Chapter 17
17
Six days later…
Leon
I pause at the bottom of the church steps, taking a moment to center myself. It’s been a long week of meticulous planning and careful maneuvering, but it’s also been a week of watching—and waiting.
I’m making her mine, and I’ll be damned if anyone stands in my way.
Emery may not have realized I was there, but I could tell, more than once, that she sensed me.
The way her head turned just a fraction when I walked past her café window. The slight widening of her eyes when she caught my reflection in a car window outside her apartment.
I’m sure she blamed an overactive imagination brought on by the stress of her upcoming marriage. But her shoulders stiffened whenever I was near, as though her body knew something her mind refused to accept
I’ve shadowed Emery too much this past week. It was an indulgence I shouldn’t have allowed myself, but I couldn’t help it.
With endless duties and responsibilities calling me, I dumped it all to track her like a man hunting a beautiful, endangered animal.
And she was endangered until she met me. Anyone who touches her now will lose their hand and possibly other parts they value even more.
This whole scheme—uprooting her life, intercepting her wedding, making her future my business—isn’t something I ever planned for. But once my obsession took root, I stopped wanting to resist.
Emery needs someone who understands her better than she understands herself, who can see past her walls and insecurities and show her what it means to be valued. And I’m her man.
A sleek black sedan pulls up beside mine, and Roman and Viktor step out.
I’m glad to see my oldest friends and allies; although I have everything lined up and ready, there’s always a chance this could go to Hell, and they always have my back.
“Gentlemen,” I say.
Roman inclines his head slightly. “You good to go?”
“More than ready,” I say. “But you could have dressed up for the occasion. It is a wedding, you know.”
Roman gestures incredulously at his twelve thousand-dollar suit. “I missed you too, you fucking reprobate. I can’t remember when I last attended a wedding that was not so much arranged as forced, but I like it. Positively medieval.”
“On that note,” I say, taking my gun from the holster under my jacket, “are we all tooled up for trouble? I’m not expecting it, but Dante is a wildcard, so better to be prepared.”
Viktor produces a pistol and a butterfly knife, and I frown.
“ Tovarishch , why are you such a savage?” I ask. “Knives are so personal .”
He shrugs. “I like to have the option. You know, if someone pisses me off enough that I have to get nasty.”
I think of Dante’s smug face, my chest flaring with rage, and I hold out my hand. “You know what? You convinced me. Hand it over.”
Roman opens his jacket to show me his semi-automatic. “Spetnaz special, just for you,” he says. “Great for crowd control.”
We check our weapons, a formality more than anything else. We’re not here to start a bloodbath, but we’ll sure as Hell end one.
The church is filled with guests, none with the faintest idea of what will happen.
But before the fun starts, I need to take out the trash.
I spot Dante at the front of the church, flanked by a couple of his buddies and laughing as if today is nothing more than a routine business transaction. He’s brimming with counterfeit confidence, exuding that swagger he thinks makes him seem intimidating.
He’s another one who doesn’t keep a close enough eye on his surroundings. That characteristic alone makes him and Emery well-suited.
As I approach, one of the lackeys grins and claps Dante on the shoulder.
“You’re doing the right thing, boss,” he says. “The girl needs a firm hand to shape her. She’s soft. A bit of a mess, honestly.”
“Don’t worry. I’m working on it.”
Dante’s chuckle turns my stomach. “Once she’s mine, she’ll be on a strict regimen. No more of this indulgent nonsense. A little starvation and plenty of gym time, and she’ll learn to fit my standards. She’s got potential. Just needs discipline.”
The rage that burns through me is almost blinding. The thought of Emery being reduced to some malleable, frightened thing makes my blood boil.
I step closer, making sure he notices me. He glances over, surprised, and his expression falters as the dumb shit recognizes me.
“We need to talk, Dante,” I say. “In private.”
The goons drift away, sensing the danger, and I’m gratified to see that Dante doesn’t command much real loyalty. He smirks, feigning nonchalance, but I can see the uncertainty in his eyes.
His nose is still messed up where I punched him, and his hand flies to it for an instant before he steels himself.
“No can do, asshole.” He pulls himself to his full height but is still eight inches shorter than me. “Take a seat at the back or, ideally, in the road outside. I’m busy.”
It takes a special kind of arrogance to come to my city and make waves without doing any due diligence. This cunt has no idea who he’s dealing with.
I step closer and press the cold metal of my gun against Dante’s ribs.
“I said we need to talk,” I say, keeping my voice low. “Do you still think it’s a request, you fucking moron?”
Dante’s eyes dart around, checking if anyone’s noticed, but I’ve angled us so we’re hidden from most of the congregation. His hangers-on are too distracted, assuming he’s handling some last-minute wedding detail.
He knows better than to push it. With a barely restrained snarl, he mutters, “Fine. Vestry. Now.”
He walks, and I follow close behind until we reach the vestry door. I close it behind us, and as I turn to face him, Dante’s back straightens, and he gives me a look of pure venom.
It’s all for show, though, and he doesn’t dare reach for the pistol he thinks is well hidden beneath his jacket.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he hisses.
I smile, savoring the flicker of fear that flashes in his eyes. “Just thought I’d drop by. Funny—you’re not the type I’d expect to be settling down. Then again, you’re not marrying for love, are you?”
“What do you care?” Dante scoffs. “Emery Bright will be my wife, which makes her my property. And I’ll do what I want with her.”
I step closer, my gaze locking onto his. “She’s not yours, not anymore. As of today, she’s mine.”
He sneers, but I can see the cracks forming. “Who are you to waltz in here and take her?”
“I am Leon Vasiliev, pakhan of my bratva. That makes me a king, you whining little shit. And if you make a scene, I will end you. Right here, right now.”
Dante pales. “You’re bluffing.”
“No, Dante. I don’t play around because I don’t need to. I screwed up all your investments, too, because I don’t fucking like you.”
I lash out and slap his cheek. “Get the picture? You can walk out of here on two working legs, or I can break them both and hurl you out head-first. Decide before I make your mind up for you.”
God knows I want to kill him, but letting him live with the humiliation is more satisfying. He’s no threat to me anyway.
Dante doesn’t say another word. Instead, he straightens his jacket and storms past me, not daring to look back. Emasculated rage rolls off him in waves, but he knows better than to defy me now.
Red-faced and visibly rattled, Dante storms out of the church, his men scrambling to follow.
I step out of the vestry after him, adjusting my cuffs. The few guests who notice Dante’s abrupt exit exchange confused glances, but I don’t give them a second thought. Roman and Viktor approach, flanking me on either side as I take my place at the altar.
Emery’s father beckons the priest over for a quiet word, and I watch as the man glances nervously at me, clearly understanding that events have taken an unexpected turn. The guests shift uneasily, their curiosity morphing into discomfort as they try to make sense of what’s happening.
As for me, I’m fucking stoked. This is exactly how I planned it.
Emery is expecting to walk down the aisle toward a man who sees her as little more than a trophy, an asset to be controlled.
Instead, she’ll marry me. And from today forward, she’ll finally learn what it means to be genuinely valued.
Roman glances at me, his expression calm but inquisitive. “Everything go well?” he murmurs.
I smile, feeling a dark satisfaction settle in my chest. “Perfectly. Now, all we have to do is wait.”
I stand tall, taking my place at the altar, and let the anticipation simmer beneath my surface.
I’ve played my hand. All that’s left is for Emery to walk through those doors and into the future I’ve chosen for us.