Chapter 13
Adrian
Two hours later, I've had enough of the politicking and entertaining. My mother can handle the remaining guests.
"We're leaving," I tell Sera, who's been talking with Gemma.
Relief floods her face. "Thank God."
Gemma smiles. "Congratulations. Both of you." She shoots me a loaded look, which I ignore. She can disapprove all she wants. I'm not asking for her blessing.
"Thank you for everything," Sera says quietly, genuine gratitude in her expression.
I make a mental note to facilitate a relationship between them. If Sera feels connected to the family, the transition will be easier for everyone.
We say our goodbyes to my mother, who looks like the cat that got the cream. I suppose she has reason to—for once, we align. Her desire for me to marry and produce an heir has been fulfilled, and I've done so willingly.
And now my wife is coming with me.
"Are we going to the penthouse?" she asks as I guide her through the crowd.
"Not yet," I say.
"Don't tell me you're taking me on a honeymoon." Sarcasm drips from her voice.
"I figured you wouldn't want to travel yet," I tell her. "Though you name the place, and we'll go."
"I want to see Gabe."
I ignore her, leading her deeper into the house. The reception was held in the ballroom downstairs. Now I'm taking her upstairs to our wing—her new home, whether she's ready for it or not.
"I want to show you where we'll be living. We have the entire east wing of the mansion."
The horror that crosses her face is immediate and visceral.
I laugh—I can't help it. She's so transparent, so easy to read.
"Relax," I say, enjoying her panic. "We can stay at the penthouse until I inherit the house if that's what you prefer. I understand your reluctance to live with my mother. It's why I have my own place."
"But eventually we'll have to live here?" she asks.
"Yes. This is my family home."
I open the double doors and gesture for her to enter.
The space is exactly as I left it years ago. I haven't lived here since college. I wasn't lying when I told Sera I understood her desire not to reside with my mother.
As I look around, I realize how masculine everything is. This was a space I curated as a boy. Now I'm a man—a husband and soon-to-be father.
"You can decorate however you'd like," I say. "I want my office to stay the way it is, but I'm not particularly attached to anything else. The staff can help you obtain whatever you need."
Sera walks through slowly, taking it in. Her dress rustles with every step, the veil still pinned in her hair making her look like a ghost drifting through my space.
She stops in front of the windows, looking out at the garden below. The moonlight catches on her veil, making the pearls shimmer.
She looks like something from a fairy tale. Beautiful and unreal.
I move behind her. Close enough to feel her heat. Close enough to smell her perfume mixing with the scent of roses from her bouquet.
"You did well today," I say quietly. "I know it was difficult."
"Difficult." She laughs without humor. "That's one word for it."
"You're a Nero now. You'll get used to it."
"Will I?" She turns to face me. "Or will I just get better at pretending?"
"Does it matter?"
The question hangs between us. Her eyes search mine, looking for something. I don't know what, but as we stand there in the moonlight, I wonder what she sees that makes her eyes flicker and her mouth turn down.
"I want to see my brother," she says finally. "You promised. After the wedding."
"Tomorrow."
"You said after—"
"Tomorrow, Seraphina." I reach up, starting to remove the pins from her veil. "Tonight is ours."
She doesn't move as I work the pins free. Her hair comes loose, cascading down her back in dark curls.
"Adrian." Her voice wavers. "I'm tired."
"I know."
"I want to sleep."
"You will." I pull the last pin free. She looks like the girl from the gala now, less like my mother's creation.
I don't answer. Just pull her to me and kiss her.
She makes a small sound of surprise before kissing me back. Her hands come up to my chest—whether to push me away or pull me closer, I don't know.
Maybe she doesn't either.
I deepen the kiss, tasting her. Claiming her. Reminding her that she's mine now. Legally. Permanently. In every way that matters.
When I pull back, she's breathing hard. Her lips are swollen. Her eyes are dark with want.
"I hate you," she whispers.
"I know."
"I don't want to want you."
"I know that too." I trace my thumb across her bottom lip. "But you do want me. Don't you, wife?"
She doesn't answer. Just looks at me with those wide, conflicted eyes.
"Turn around," I order.
She narrows her eyes but does what I say without protest. I lean down, undoing the hundreds of tiny buttons down her back. My fingertips brush against her skin as I work my way down her spine, and I hear her breath catch.
The dress slips down her body, pooling at her feet.
I move around her, hold out my hand, and she steps out of the creation. The moonlight highlights her pale skin, the white lace lingerie, the gentle curve where my child is growing.
She's breathtaking.
But I can't ignore the bruises still dark on her ribs. A reminder that she was hurt less than forty-eight hours ago, and I'm standing here thinking about fucking her.
I want to push her down on the bed. Peel off that white lace. Make her mine in every way that matters.
But those bruises.
Dimitri put those there. And here I am, thinking about causing her more pain for my own pleasure.
The thought makes me sick.
I'm not Dimitri. I'm not a Morozov. I don't take what I want without thought for the cost.
"Here," I say, shrugging off my jacket. I wrap it around her body, covering her.
"What—"
"I should have had a robe brought up. This part of the house gets cold at night. It slipped my mind."
I take a step back and breathe. I want her desperately, but I can't. Not now.
For once in my life, my needs must come last.
"Let me show you the bedroom," I say, walking her out of the foyer.
When we enter, the space is dark but well-prepared by the staff. Candles flicker on the nightstand. The bed has been turned down.
"You should take a bath and rest," I say, taking another step back as Sera walks farther inside.
"You're not staying?" Her question carries layers. I can tell she's not just asking why I'm leaving—she wants to know why I'm not fucking her. It's a valid question considering I've made no secret of wanting her.
And I do. Desperately.
But not like this.
"You need rest. For the baby," I say. "And I need to talk to Leo."
"Leo?"
I keep forgetting how little Sera knows about this life. "My head of security."
"Are we in danger?"
I laugh quietly. "Always."
I lean down and press a kiss to the top of her head, breathing in her scent. "Get some rest."
I'm halfway to the door when her voice stops me.
"Adrian."
I look back.
She's standing there in my jacket, looking small and lost and beautiful. "You're really leaving?"
"You need rest."
"I need—" She stops. Shakes her head. "Never mind."
"What do you need, Sera?"
She looks away. "I don't know anymore."
The honesty in that admission nearly breaks me. I cross back to her, cup her face, press my forehead to hers.
"Sleep," I tell her. "Tomorrow, I'll take you to see Gabe. I promise."
"You promise a lot of things."
"And I keep them." I brush my lips across hers. Once. Soft. "Get some rest, wife."
Then I leave before I can change my mind.
Leo is waiting in my office when I arrive.
"The wedding went well," he observes.
"It went as expected." I pour myself a drink. Whiskey. Neat. "Alexei made his move."
Leo's expression sharpens. "What did he say?"
I relay the conversation. The implications about Gabriel. The suggestion that Sera's brother has been feeding information to the Morozovs.
"Do you believe him?" Leo asks when I finish.
"I believe Gabriel Romano is a problem." I take a drink. "Whether he's an informant or just an idiot with a gambling addiction, he's created a vulnerability. And Alexei knows it."
"What do you want to do?"
"Find out the truth." I set down my glass. "Gabriel's being held at the safe house in Queens. Tomorrow morning, I want to know everything. Every debt. Every contact. Every conversation he's had with anyone connected to the Morozovs."
"And if he was feeding them information?"
"Then he's lucky I married his sister before I found out." My jaw tightens. "Because that's the only reason he'll live through this."
Leo nods. "I'll have answers by morning."
"Good." I lean back in my chair. "And Leo? Make sure no one disturbs Sera tonight. She's exhausted."
Something flickers in his expression. Surprise, maybe. Or approval.
"Of course," he says, and leaves.
I sit alone in my office, staring at the whiskey in my glass.
My wife is upstairs. In my bed. Wearing white lace and my ring.
And I left her there.
The old Adrian wouldn't have. The man I was three months ago would have taken what he wanted without hesitation.
But that man didn't have Sera.
Didn't have a child on the way.
Didn't have something worth being patient for.
I finish my drink and pour another.
Maybe, if I'm patient enough, she'll learn to crave this. Crave me. Want me the way I want her.
The thought should feel like a weakness.
It doesn't.