Chapter 26
Chapter Twenty-Six
QUINN
Sleep is impossible. It’s not the noise so much, but the choking weight of the atmosphere that makes me restless. I can barely get a solid breath past the rising chaos; it’s almost the same feeling I had while working in the hospital the night Aleksei and I crossed paths.
Kade stands like a statue just outside my room. He might be unmoving, but I can feel him on a cellular level. I always have, though, but tonight everything is heightened.
As I walk up behind him, my resolve to stay away crumbles, and I need to feel him against me. Before all the reasons why I should stop flood my mind, I push myself against his back, my arms going around his waist.
He tucks his arms over mine, drawing me closer. “You’re okay.”
After I’ve taken my fill of his scent, and its magical qualities are working through my system, I rest my cheek against his back, listening to the steady beat of his heart. “I am.”
“I’m getting a bad feeling, Quinny.”
I squeeze him tighter. “I’ll be okay. You know that, right?”
“I want more for you than just okay. I want you to have it all.”
“Including you?”
He growls softly under his breath. “You want to talk about us now?”
I press a kiss to his back before I force myself to let go. “I will always be grateful for the time we had.”
“That sounds ominous,” he says quietly.
“Not really. I guess we spent so much time dancing, I need you to know I enjoyed every move we made.”
“I would have, and still will, jump headfirst into forever with you.” He starts to turn around, and I step a little further back.
“I know. But you being aware of how much I truly appreciate you is equally important.”
When he sees me, he reverts to his earlier stillness. “You look incredible. I’d give anything to be the man standing next to you, but that doesn’t take away from the honor you’ve given of letting me stand behind you.”
His sweet confessions get interrupted as Santiago comes back into the suite. Like with Kade, I can feel him more intensely this morning. It’s like he’s an extension of me, which, in a sense, is true, considering we’re scent matched. Maybe I’m having my own version of pre-wedding jitters.
I try not to fiddle with the ivory wedding dress that was delivered with a whole new wardrobe when I was trying to fall asleep. I’m not sure who arranged it or how they knew my sizing, but everything that was sent is stunning.
If I had to pick a wedding dress, I’m not sure I would have ever considered even trying on one with three-quarter sleeves, a round neck and a flowing skirt.
This one, though, makes me feel both elegant and strong, which, considering the task at hand and the audience waiting, are the virtues I most want to embody today.
Aleksei left a message, giving us the heads-up as to what has been happening all night.
The deep thud of music vibrating through the house, coupled with feminine shrills, made it kind of obvious that it was a celebration, and given Sergey’s ego, it makes sense he’d claim the night as his bachelor party.
“Are we ready to go?” I ask.
Santiago doesn’t stop at the door; he doesn’t slow down or stop staring at me like he can’t believe his eyes.
“Nunca lo he conocido y lo odio como nunca antes he odiado a nadie.”
He makes me burst out laughing. His bold claim that he’s never hated anyone more than Sergey is so Santiago. Around me, his scent mixes with Kade’s, and it settles like a sweet body spray on my skin, giving me as much of an ego boost as his words did.
“Are you sure you want to do this? I know Kade and I could have you out of here in minutes. The dogs would help, and I suspect Aleksei…”
“No, Santiago. This is where I need to be.”
“I can’t for the life of me figure out why you’re marrying him.” He growls, and it’s not the kind of growl that brings goose bumps to my skin. It’s the other one—pure frustration.
I want to give him a hug, but instead, I brush a hand over his shoulder as I pass behind him.
I don’t rush out of the doors separating us from the rest of Sergey’s house—that would be foolish, given the lion’s den I’m sure I’m walking into—but I also need to feel him behind me, as much as I need Kade there too.
Roshka inserts himself between me and the door, and I run my fingers through the fur on the top of his head while I wait for Kade and Santiago to be ready.
When they join me, I soak in the quiet peace they bring before the voice in my head pushes me to check again that they can do this.
“I know Sergey won’t hurt or kill me today. He needs us married. I expect him to make a fool out of me, though. But… I’m bigger than a man with an outrageously inflated ego. What would stay with me for a long, long time is if either of you got hurt because you can’t separate...”
“Quinn.” Santiago’s voice is low but full of his Alpha presence, so I have no choice but to listen and believe.
“Don’t worry about us, we will be fine. We’ll stick to what we agreed on, which is being your guards.
But you have to trust us to recognize when lines are crossed that shouldn’t be.
I know those lines, and somehow, you do too.
Kade and I have spoken, and we’re both on the same page when it comes to you.
So, let’s go get this fucking day done so we can get you safely back behind these doors as soon as possible. ”
The smile on my face is real. The puff of my perfume that they both inhale deeply is proof of how content I am.
Kade presses his hand on the door, stopping us. “Watch Roshka. Apparently, he hates Sergey as much as I plan to.”
I look down at the fluffy menace. “Roshka won’t hurt me.”
“Exactly. But he has the means to rip out Sergey’s throat probably faster than we can pull a gun. Keep him next to you, and if you see him getting defensive, trust what he’s telling you. If he attacks without provocation, you fucking run.”
“I feel like we’re blowing this out of proportion.”
“Well, I still feel like you’re marrying the wrong fucking person in this house.”
Santiago chuckles, his nearness means his breath blows down my neck, making me shiver. “Kade, you have a certain way with words. I’m surprised you’ve lasted this long undercover.”
“Santiago!” I hiss.
“What?” He laughs, way too relaxed.
Kade stares him down. “I have the same motivation as you.”
“I have more,” Santiago argues, pressing his hand to my back. It acts like a hot water bottle, and it’s done intentionally, no doubt, because his own Alpha drive to care for me is riding his ass, and my anxiety is climbing too.
“We can argue later,” I promise, before reaching above Roshka to unlock the door and pull it open.
Despite the noise that’s been echoing through the house most of the night, the corridor is strangely quiet.
There’s a strong smell of sex and excess that lingers like decaying trash.
I rub my finger over the top of my lip, leaving behind the hint of them on my skin so they are all I breathe. It makes me feel instantly better.
At the stairs, decorations you’d expect to see at a wedding start appearing—on Sergey’s side, of course. Thick, silky ribbons embellished with red, gold, and white hang like garlands around floral arrangements. We follow them like a map, coming to a large room.
From a smaller room opposite where people are gathering, the trill, like a flock of excited starlings, spills out until it cuts off as I walk into the room.
The inside has been staged with beauty stations, more of the floral arrangements, large mirrors, and billowing curtains.
A photographer is busy taking “candid” photos of Bambi and her group of besties, all appearing coiffured and shamelessly glammed up.
Each wearing what looks like very traditional, embellished Russian dresses, primarily in a deep red color.
They look at me, and in typical mean-girl mentality, pretend to hide their laughter so I can’t see it.
“So pretty,” Bambi croons maliciously before her fake smile gets wider, and she looks like a version of Maleficent—evil and overtly schemey.
She takes a step forward, and Kade edges in front of me, spurred on by a low, unintelligible growl from Roshka.
Refusing to be intimidated by her and her tribe, I sidestep around Kade and Roshka, moving closer to them. “You look lovely.”
Instead of answering me, she turns toward her friends, speaking in Russian. When she’s done, her gaze travels slowly from the top of my head, all the way down to my feet. And her bitchy friends do the same.
“You look so beautiful for a bride.” She grins.
Clearly, it’s an insult, given they start giggling again.
I wish I cared. Bambi might be Queen Bee in the life she’s built for herself, but in the real world, her immaturity would be her downfall.
The thought of that takes the sting of her being a bitch away, although if I’m honest, how she acts and speaks to me is like a papercut— notoriously annoying but already forgotten.
Putting my back to them and walking over to the station no one used, I take a seat and wait for the time I assume someone will come and get me.
In the reflection of the mirror, I can see the mess they’ve made of the room as they’ve spent hours getting ready together.
Every conceivable product spills over their stations, so opposite to my beauty regime, it isn’t funny.
I watch the photographer cautiously approach. For a moment, I think I’m causing her apprehension, but then I see her keep checking over her shoulder, flinching slightly. Obviously, Bambi and her friends have been consistent in their cattiness.
When she comes near, I stand. She doesn’t even try to speak to me, but the smile is one of those that says, sorry I can’t speak English, but we will manage. She holds up her camera with one hand and pulls a pose, pointing at herself with the other.
“Yes, of course.”
And then she leads me over to the corner of the room, where the sunlight is dappled and the breeze is fluttering white sheer curtains. Guiding me into the pose and position she wants, she takes all of three photos before Bambi rushes into the frame.
“Enough. Now us.”
The photographer doesn’t argue, but neither do I.
“Of course,” I say to Bambi, stepping out of where I was and waving her in.
I refuse to call her out on her shit; I truly don’t see the point. If she can’t see she’s making a fool out of herself, it’s not like she’s going to listen to me spelling it out.
Sitting back down at my station, I spend the entire time they’re doing their photo session dreaming about what I’d be doing if I wasn’t here.
And it’s got nothing to do with Bambi or Sergey, and everything to do with a huge bed on a tropical island, with just Kade, Santiago, and Aleksei to keep me entertained while we wait for the arrival of my sister, Marco, the dogs, and Deena.
My beautiful daydream gets interrupted when a matron-like woman appears and speaks to Bambi first, and then in broken English to me, letting me know it’s time.
Without any pomp or ceremony, a bouquet of flowers gets dropped into my hands, and then I watch as she fluffs around with Bambi. Of course, Bambi has a mini meltdown over the flowers, and the girls have to console her faux tears with cuddles that don’t mess up their makeup.
Her crying gets louder instead of quieter, and her best bestie—I seriously can’t remember her name—appears in front of me with Bambi’s flowers in one hand and expectation on her face.
“Some manners wouldn’t go astray, sunshine,” I insist when she makes a grab for my bouquet.
“We are your wedding party… um, bridesmaids, yes. Please, Bambi should be the one to hold those ones. Give them.”
I hand them over without fuss, completely distracted by the waves of distaste and repulsion coming from my security detail. Even Roshka’s not a fan of what’s going on, and he walks towards the door, making sure I’m following.
“You.” The wedding organizer is back on track, her attention now on Santiago and Kade. “Go inside.”
“How do you say, ‘fuck off’ in Russian?” Santiago asks. He hides the message under his impeccable manners and approachable expression.
I have to bite my lip to stop from bursting into laughter. Once it’s under control, I turn to face them both. “I’ll be okay. I’d feel better if you were there when I arrive, anyway. Somewhere close but not too close. Everyone is on edge.”
“I don’t like this,” Kade says softly as he steps past me into the corridor.
He waits for Santiago, but Santiago is leaning down to whisper something in the wedding planner's ear. She pales, and her eyes go wide as saucers, so I guess he’s found a way around the language barrier. As she races off, he looks back at me and shrugs innocently when I wait for an explanation.
“I’m happy to threaten every fucking person we meet if needs be, bebe.” Though the bebe is like a soft exhale.
He leaves me then and joins Kade, and I tug on Roshka’s ear until he swings his giant head my way. Seriously, the attitude I read in his eyes is the same as what I read in Kade’s and Santiago’s. He gives me the same attitude they do when I wave him out of the room.
All the hairs on the back of my neck rise as Bambi and the others stand behind me. I don’t trust them for a second, but I don’t let them sense how vulnerable I feel, either.
I have everything under control until the noxious bitch leans close but talks loud in her broken English as she passes to stand in the front to lead the procession. “In our culture and traditions, brides wear red.”
For good measure, she waves her fingers, the motion likely done to draw my gaze to the ring she’s got on her ring finger. Well, the new one that sits next to her larger copy of my engagement ring.
I think I’m meant to be horrified by her suggestion that she’s already married to Sergey. I want nothing she has, especially him.