Chapter 30 #2
Reality is quite different. It gets blatantly shoved into my face the moment I walk into where the reception is being held.
In the time I’ve been gone, the space and mood have changed, again.
All the lights have been dimmed, and the dining tables where guests were enjoying traditional Russian delicacies have been cleared.
Nausea rises in my stomach when I take in the table decorations now on each of them—sleeping children.
They must be drugged because, despite the noise and the predatory shark-like behavior of most of the people in the room, they don’t stir.
“What do you think of our wedding gift from our friends in Ireland?” Sergey booms his question across the room as I stop at the first table.
He’s taken to lording back on one of the Chesterfield leather lounges dotted around the room.
This one has been positioned right in the middle of the action, of course.
His eyes are cold and full of dark, swirling energy. He’s enjoying himself and reveling in my shock, which I fight hard to blink away.
I know better than to make a scene in a room full of his people, so I plaster a smile in place as I walk towards him. As soon as I’m close, he’s barking at me again. “I asked you a question, wife, and I expect an answer. Do you like what our Irish friends sent us?”
His Alpha bark means I have no choice but to answer.
Bambi is sitting nestled up against him, and one of her friends is sitting on a cushion between Sergey’s thighs on the floor.
He rests a hand on each of them. On the other lounges near him sit who I assume are his closest friends and allies, all of them mirroring each other—jackets off, ties hanging loose, drinks and women on hand.
So many unspoken messages being flung at me by so many different people. I have to roll my shoulders to bolster against the crushing pressure of them.
“It’s very generous of them. Who should I send a thank-you card to?”
I want names, so once I’ve watched life drain out of Sergey’s eyes, I can go and hunt down every other person involved in the kiddie industry.
Sergey points a finger at two women sitting with them. “Olga and Catalina handle that side of my business.”
Some people might be shocked to discover women are involved in such an abhorrent crime. I am not one of those people. I add their names to my list and memorize their faces.
“Can I get you a drink?” I ask Sergey.
I make it obvious I’m not including anyone else in that question; I pay them no credence. I’m no one’s drink bitch, but I need him to see I’m his. I’m dutifully doing my part playing his wife so, one day, when the time comes and I get him alone, it doesn't raise alarm.
He tips his head to the side, and the grin on his face widens. It’s not an open and welcoming smile. “First, I want to know about Aleksei.”
My stomach plummets until I remember it is Sergey.
The man’s ego is so huge, he’s only obsessed with himself, which means this isn’t about him figuring out I’m Aleksei’s mate.
This is coming from a different space, his own, sick entertainment.
As soon as I adjust my perception, the stress I was dealing with having to pretend Aleksei is nothing to me disappears.
But since Santiago is watching me like a hawk, I also earn a quiet warning from him, which I read as do not antagonize this fucking idiot. And while I’m focused on Sergey, I’m also left reeling by the fact Santiago understands me as a person.
I back off on being overly aggressive, drawing on all my medical training when I look blankly at Sergey. “What do you mean?”
“Tell us about my brother’s cock. Is big, huh? He couldn’t fuck for a long time because of it. You like it, though?” He leans forward before the lot of them burst into laughter.
I look at him, and only him, until the noise settles down again. Once it’s quiet and everyone has picked up my polite hostility, I speak, only addressing my husband. “I’m going to arrange champagne and let the kitchen know we’re ready to cut the cake.”
Of course, as soon as I turn my back, Bambi starts giggling.
I blow out a long, centering exhale, muttering under my breath, smiling as I search for the kitchen manager. Except, they find me. Aleksei too.
“I’ve asked to do the cake, and Sergey could do the toast. It’s getting late,” he says, careful not to look at me too much. There are so many eyes on us, I don’t take it to heart.
“Perfect. Can I help?”
Aleksei shakes his head, answering the question I had for the other person.
He dismisses them with a terse bark in Russian, but he makes a motion for me to wait.
When the other man races away to arrange the next part of the festivities, Aleksei turns to me, but his eyes stay locked on where Sergey is.
“You look lovely.” He grins at someone over my shoulder, waving at them, but he talks softly to me. “Can you do me a favor?”
“As long as you’re not going to ask me to go sit with them, I’m all ears.”
“All ears? I don’t get what you mean,” he says, appearing confused.
I hide my laughter behind a tight smile. “It means I’m listening.”
“Why not just say that?” Which is probably the most Russian thing I’ve heard him say. “Anyway, I need to speak with Sergey, but the dogs…”
“I’ll do it.” I jump at the chance of escaping, even for a little while.
He walks off before I’ve finished saying I would, but I can feel all the attention of Sergey and his group on me again, which is all the heads-up I need. And because they are watching, I walk out of the room without saying a word to Kade or Santiago, making them chase after me.
The corridor is a hive of activity, and like before, nobody acknowledges me. Nalla leads us past everyone, and Roshka sticks close, as always. He makes it so I’m always walking with him on one side and the wall on the other.
I start freaking out that I won't remember the code to Aleksei’s kitchen as soon as I see the lock, but by the time we’re stopping at the door, the numbers are in my head and the latch unlocks.
Kade and Santiago follow me in. The door shuts behind them at the same time that I walk past the spot where the dead man was to open the back door.
A blast of fresh, icy wind is the medicine I need after being around so many unknown people.
I stand outside, breathing in lungfuls of the frigid air while Nalla and Roshka do their business.
When I leave them sniffing, Kade and Santiago are already busy with getting the dogs’ bowls ready.
“How much do they eat?” Santiago shakes his head as I add more to the bowl he already made up.
“A lot. Do you have pets?”
“No.”
“Do you want any?” Kade asks me, joining the conversation.
I think I once fed him some BS about being allergic, and given his question, I suspect he always knew it.
“I want a life where I get to choose if I do,” I say back softly, without looking at either of them.
Santiago and Kade both make a rumbling noise, and I twist around to see them better. “What? Did I say something wrong?”
Santiago is the first to move again. He comes in close enough that I get all the benefits of his Alpha scent and presence, but not close enough to leave his scent on me. “I guess your honesty just threw us.”
It takes me half a second to catch on. “Yeah, well, I figured we’ve been crossing lines all day. Why stop now?”
Kade takes advantage of the subtlety of his scent, and he brushes a piece of hair off my face. “That’s quite a flip, though.”
“Or Quinn’s finally ready to admit she’s succumbed to our charm,” Santiago teases.
His response is exactly what the moment needs. We leave our chat there.
I venture back outside to sit in the fresh air while the dogs eat.
It’s a good chance to start trying to sort out if, and how, any of this is going to work.
I can easily recognize I was swept up before by Aleksei, and in the torrent, I unwittingly dragged Kade and Santiago with me.
Maybe it’s wrong, or maybe I need to lean in to the fact there’s a reason our paths have crossed.
“Come on,” Kade calls me inside again.
I step over the threshold of the door, and he catches my hand as I pass. “Shit, your hands are freezing. Lucky, I know you’ve got a warm heart, Quinny.”
Without even realizing, Kade says the sweetest thing.