46. Forty-Six #3
“Is the same as yours?” I laughed bitterly.
“That’s what you’ve always counted on, isn’t it?
That I’d follow your orders because of some twisted sense of family loyalty.
” I shook my head. “But I’ve spent my entire life watching you destroy everything you touch.
You drove my mother to suicide. You orchestrated Luca’s death.
And now you want me to betray my husband? ”
My father’s hand shot out, gripping my arm with bruising force. “You ungrateful little—“
Arrow moved so quickly I barely registered the motion before his hand closed around my father’s wrist, squeezing until I heard bones creak. “Remove your hand from my wife,” Arrow said, his voice deadly soft, “before I remove it for you.”
The tension in the alcove ratcheted higher, my father’s capos shifting to defensive positions, hands drifting toward concealed weapons. Arrow didn’t flinch, his focus entirely on my father, his grip unrelenting.
“Let her go, Giovanni,” Arrow commanded. “Now.”
My father’s face contorted with rage, but he released my arm. Arrow didn’t immediately let go, maintaining his hold for several moments longer than necessary—a clear message about who held power in this situation.
“You think you’ve won,” my father spat, rubbing his wrist. “You think this marriage changes anything? The Virellis and Romanovs have been at war for generations. A piece of paper and some pretty words won’t change that.”
“Actually,” I said, stepping forward to stand beside Arrow, “I think it changes everything. Because now your enemies and my allies are the same people.” I smiled, letting him see the cold calculation in my eyes. “And I know all your secrets, Father.”
His expression flickered, something like uncertainty crossing his features before his mask of control slipped back into place. “You’ve chosen your side, then?”
“I’ve chosen my husband,” I corrected. “The rest is just details.”
Arrow’s hand found the small of my back, warm and possessive. “This conversation is over, Giovanni. You’re a guest at my wife’s wedding reception. I suggest you act like it, or leave.”
My father’s eyes narrowed, and for a moment, I thought he might escalate the confrontation. But after a tense silence, he stepped back, smoothing his expression into something more neutral.
“Enjoy your victory while it lasts,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “The war isn’t over. It’s only just begun.”
He turned and walked away, his capos falling in behind him like obedient shadows. Arrow’s grip on my waist tightened, his body still vibrating with barely contained violence.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice softening as he examined my arm where my father had gripped it.
I nodded, though my heart was racing. “I’m fine. He’s always been a bully when he doesn’t get his way.”
Arrow’s jaw tightened. “No one touches you like that and walks away.”
“Not here,” I warned, placing my hand on his chest. “Not today.”
He looked down at me, something fierce and protective in his gaze. “Not today,” he agreed reluctantly. “But this isn’t finished.”
I knew he was right. My father wouldn’t let this stand—the public rejection, the alliance with the Romanovs. He would retaliate, and when he did, the bloodshed would make our wedding look like child’s play.
“Let’s get back to the party,” I said, forcing a smile. “We have guests waiting.”
Arrow nodded, his hand sliding from my waist to take mine.
As we walked back into the ballroom, I felt the weight of dozens of eyes upon us, assessing the aftermath of our confrontation.
Whispers followed us as we made our way through the crowd, speculation spreading like wildfire through the ballroom.
“I think that went well,” I murmured to Arrow, keeping my smile firmly in place.
His laugh was low and appreciative. “For a declaration of war at our wedding reception? I’d say you handled it perfectly.”
We continued mingling, accepting congratulations and well-wishes that I knew were merely masks hiding the real thoughts of those in attendance. Everyone was waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the carefully constructed peace to crumble.
Luna intercepted us near the dessert table, her eyes bright with concern. “What happened? Everyone’s talking.”
“Just a family disagreement,” I said, selecting a chocolate-covered strawberry. “Nothing to worry about.”
Arrow’s hand tightened on my waist. “Giovanni made his position clear.”
“From his perspective, I’ve joined the enemy,” I admitted, watching my father across the room as he spoke with one of his capos, his expression thunderous.
“You’ve joined your husband,” Arrow corrected, his voice dropping to that intimate register that made my skin prickle. “That’s the only perspective that matters.”
Luna glanced between us, a small smile playing at her lips. “Well, whatever was said, you two look more united than ever. That’s what everyone will notice.”
As if to prove her point, Arrow’s lips found my temple in a gentle kiss that felt both possessive and tender. “Let them talk. They’ll learn soon enough that we’re not playing by the old rules anymore.”
* Princess
* My love