Chapter Nineteen
In which there is the most uncomfortable wedding photo shoot and plenty of hot Russian visitors.
Wallace…
I admire and respect Uncle Cormac, but right now, he’s a fecking cock blocker.
My wife is in my arms, wet and shivering, sweet and soft. And my goddamned phone goes off. The ringtone is “Ride of the Valkyries” and I groan, tightening my grip on her for one, perfect moment before pulling away.
“Sorry, lass. That’s the Chieftain's ringtone.”
Sighing, she nods, letting me go. “I’ll go tidy up.”
I watch her pert arse disappear into the bathroom, trying to shove down my resentment as I answer.
“Wallace here.”
“And here I’m thinking becoming a married man might help ye relax a wee bit.”
“Hello, Chieftain. You’ve heard already, aye?” I can hear Scarlett singing something softly over the splash of the water.
“I knew exactly what you’d be doing when ye left the house. I was more surprised it took ye an additional twenty-four hours,” he chuckles. “Ye know this might be the union that finally sends your poor grandmother over the edge.”
The thought that Scarlett and I would now be facing the wrath of the Lady Elspeth sends a shudder through me. My grandmother is a tiny slip of a woman and ten times more terrifying than all the MacTavish men.
Combined.
“The Lady Elspeth will not perish from this earth before the rest of us have, waiting there to serve her in the afterlife,” I say dryly. “But I am hoping to escape the inevitable estate wedding for as long as possible. Scarlett’s still shell-shocked from this one.”
“Ye should take your bride home,” he says, all business. “Assign a couple of guards to her.”
Every muscle turns to granite. “What do ye know?”
“There’s no immediate threat, dinnae worry. I’d already have half your cousins converging on The Witchery if there were.”
I dinnae bother asking how he knows where we are.
“There’s been some interesting developments,” he continues. “Maksim Morozov is sending his two eldest sons here for a visit.”
“Dimitri and Roman?” I’d gone to the Ares Academy with Roman.
“Aye, it looks like some collaboration between the families is in order,” he says.
“This has something to do with Kholodov, doesn’t it?” I’m already getting dressed and checking my guns.
“It could be good news for ye and Scarlett, he’s making a mess in New York in Morozov territory, that’s why Dmitri and Roman are here for a consultation.”
“Kholodov’s stepping on a lot of toes for a new Pakhan,” I say, moving over to the window and scanning the street. “Sounds like he’s been making plans for a long time, aye?”
“I’m thinking he drove his Da to the train station to catch his express train to hell,” Uncle Cormac agrees. “Not that Leonid Kholodov being gone from this earth is anything but a blessing for mankind as a whole.”
“That’s certain. When are Dmitri and Roman getting here?”
“In a couple of hours. Why don’t ye take that pretty new wife of yours home and come see me?”
“I dinnae like the idea of leaving her alone, even with the guards,” I say. “Not with Kholodov acting like a jilted groom and that arsehole Kyle scrambling to find her.”
“I’m thinking spreading the word about your happy nuptials might be a good start,” he suggests. “I can have our publicist drop a word to a reporter or two, get some stories planted. Ye know your grandmother will instantly demand a photoshoot.”
“Ordinarily, I’d be finding the first point on the map furthest from here at such a suggestion,” I sigh. “You are, however, as always correct, Chieftain. The sooner those fecks find out she’s under our protection, the better.”
Which is how Scarlett and I find ourselves under a huge oak tree on the MacTavish mansion’s grounds two hours later. I had my suit - along with some dresses and accessories for Scarlett to choose from - delivered before we got there.
“How did they put this together so fast?” Scarlett whispers. She’s beautiful - and uneasy - in a forest green silk dress, and she refused the offer of a professional makeup artist and did her own.
“You’re a bonnie thing.” I kiss her, just under her ear. “Everything moves fast with this family. They’re used to MacTavish men tying the knot with impulsivity and usually, with utter lack of forethought.”
“Yeah, I heard some stories from Logan and Kai last night,” she chuckles, looking up at me.
“Perfect! Just like that!” Kieran, the photographer is more relentless than a wasp at a picnic. “Show the love!”
“You look extremely hot, by the way,” Scarlett continues. “You are totally executive porn in that Tom Ford suit. You had to get it custom fitted, though. Didn’t you?”
“Why do you say that?” I kiss her hand, angling her wedding ring toward the photographer.
“Please. With shoulders like these?” She slides her hands up said shoulders, smiling up at me slyly. “You’re built like a bear, though less hairy and somewhat more attractive.”
“I’m humbled by your flattering assessment,” I say dryly.
“Now put your arm around her waist and face the camera,” Keiran says, angling one of his lights.
“Yes, put some warmth into it,” calls Roman. “Where’s all that fiery passion you were known for at the Academy?”
“Shut up, ty mudak, you asshole.” Dmitri slaps his brother on the back of the head, a practiced motion that tells me it’s happened often. “He’s taking his wedding photos. This is hardly the time to be bringing up his sordid past.”
“Thanks for being on my side, Dmitri,” I snarl.
“Of course,” he calls out graciously.
The Morozov brothers were more than happy to postpone our meeting with the Chieftain to enjoy the spectacle of this awkward photoshoot. Scarlett is handling it all extremely well.
“Sordid, eh?” She smiles up at me adoringly for the camera while stepping on my foot.
“I was at the Ares Academy for less than two years,” I say between my teeth, still smiling. “Hardly enough time to develop a grotty reputation, though the same canna be said for Roman.”
“Okay, Wallace, stand behind her if ye will, arm around her waist. Scarlett, can ye please put your arm over his and show off that big, sparkly ring?”
“Why is life lived in MacTavish time speeded up to triple everyone else’s?” she asks, settling against me.
The feel of her pert arse and the very recent memory of squeezing it as she came on my thigh makes me groan internally. If I step out of this position with a stonner, fecking Roman will never let me live it down. “We canna help it, Luaith Bheag. Ye know that in our world, life is short.”
“It’s just hard to believe that it was only last night that you dragged me into The Witchery and forced me to marry you,” she says, smiling sweetly for the camera.
“And it’s hard to believe that ye were calling out for a higher power, rubbing against my leg only this very morning.” Her instant blush is very flattering for the camera lens, I’m sure.
“Scarlett, would you join me for civilized afternoon tea while this lot has their meeting?”
Aunt Mala - Uncle Cormac’s wife - is one of the sweetest of my aunties, and she always seems to know when to step in. She’s waiting after the photoshoot to rescue my wife. Scarlett hesitates, looking at me.
“If there’s any news about the Step Arseholes, we’ll talk after the meeting, aye?” I murmur, leaning closer. “Aunt Mala’s grand. She’ll make ye comfortable.”
“Okay.” She puts on a brave smile for me as Aunt Mala leads her away.
“She’s gorgeous,” Roman says as we settle in Uncle Cormac’s office. Uncle Dougal - Kai and Logan’s Da - is there as well. “How did you trick her into marrying you?”
“Some of us rely on charm and sincerity,” I take the most comfortable chair before he can get to it.
He bursts into raucous laughter while my disloyal uncles hide their grins behind their drinks.
“Dmitri, as the only responsible Morozov here,” Uncle Cormac says, “tell us what’s happening.”
He’s the first-born son of Maksim Morozov, Pakhan of one of the most powerful Russian Bratvas with bases in St. Petersburg and New York City.
Dmitri’s stern, and serious, which is in keeping with being next in line as Pakhan.
He looks more like his mother Ella, with black hair and pale green eyes.
She’s a doctor who spends an endless amount of time patching up their soldiers.
“We’ve heard from two of our major clients that Kholodov approached them, claiming he can bring in their cargo for half the price through his new supply lines in Boston,” Dmitri says, nursing his drink.
“We know the Banners are too inept to be brokering this deal. But they do have some excellent port and transportation routes, thanks to their cannabis business, even if they don’t have the money to be using the routes properly. ”
“Kholodov is starting his reign as Pakhan by trying to undercut the most powerful Bratva in New York City?” Uncle Dougal shakes his head. “His Bratva dinnae even have a presence there.”
“One of our clients said he was very aggressive about the deal, claiming he had a new transportation system already underway,” Roman adds. “He seems confident about this alliance with the Banner Syndicate.”
“There seems to be one small snag,” Dmitri grins at me. “Bratva alliance marriages are taken very seriously, and yet you seem to have already tied the knot with his intended.”
“Unless he’s planning on marrying Marlena, there’s no Banner bride available,” I say.
“What’s the likelihood that he’ll swallow defeat and scuttle away?” Uncle Cormac asks.
“We’ll have to see how he responds to this news,” Dmitri says. “He’ll throw a mighty tantrum, the spoiled little svoloch', the bastard. He’s unstable, but I can’t see him chancing the combined wrath of the MacTavish and Taylor Mafias.”