Chapter 29
Damien
I watch the garden where the ceremony will take place, observing the wave of guests already starting to arrive.
Chicago's chief of police, various members of the Polish mob from the States, and other associates I work with.
And Marco Agosti, who, despite not being on the guest list, somehow managed to slip in and now stands in the corner of the garden, eyes fixed on Roxanne.
Interesting.
Roman and Luna are here too. Vasili's coordinating the final security details because everything needs to run perfectly.
While Roxanne talks with her uncle, I step away to make a call. Dr. Ferich, one of the specialists I sent Roxanne's file to, answers almost instantly.
"Any thoughts on the file I sent you?" I ask directly, my gaze never leaving my woman.
From the moment I saw her again in that warehouse, blood at her mouth, I knew she belonged to me.
And now, with her taste still branded on my lips, it's getting harder not to sweep her up and forget about the obligations waiting to be honored.
I listen as he gives me his opinion on the data in that file and hang up with slightly more clarity but still no concrete proof.
A knock sounds, and Tirana opens the office door tentatively.
"Mr. Kaminski, a package arrived for you. Should I leave it here?"
My gaze slides instantly to the box elegantly wrapped in white and gold. With a short gesture, I indicate for her to set it on the desk and leave.
Something about this package raises my suspicions. The card bears only two simple words: "Wedding Gift." No signature, no name.
Dread twists in my gut as I loosen the delicate bow and lift the lid. Anger slams into me at the sight of a severed hand, the seal of the Warsaw Polish mafia burned into its flesh, and a gold ring engraved with a letter.
The box contains ice packs, but judging by the skin discoloration and the way the blood has coagulated, experience tells me the victim was already dead when the limb was amputated.
With abrupt movements, I send Vasili a short message to come to the office.
This box needs to disappear, and I want a thorough check of all the guests. Again.
Within minutes, my right-hand man steps into the room, and his eyes immediately fix on the still open box. As he approaches, a string of curses escapes between his teeth as he shakes his head.
"It's Antoly," he tells me though I already knew that.
Antoly Adamiach was one of the men who voted for me. I'd strategically placed him in Warsaw to spy for me, and obviously, someone discovered our little game.
This is a bloody message promising retribution.
"Your dear mother’s getting more desperate.
Maybe you should call Berna." He murmurs the last words, aware that this is a closed topic for me.
My sister has already endured too much. I won't drag her into this war.
My only comfort is that she's being left alone now, and our "dear" mother has redirected all her attention to me, not her.
Because Marzena Kaminski turned her own son into a weapon against enemies and used her only daughter as currency for information.
From age twelve, my sister was "loaned out" to various politicians, soldiers, or associates who brought us benefits. When you have that many secrets in your pocket, you become nearly untouchable.
Even though I was just a child when my sister started being used, guilt still eats at me that I didn't save her sooner. That I wasn’t there to cut the flesh of anyone who dared harm her.
"This isn’t up for discussion, Vasili. Check the guest list again. I'll make sure we get those votes, and once I'm reelected as head of the organization, not all the connections and devils in hell will save her from my wrath."
He nods curtly and leaves the office, leaving me with a bitter taste in my mouth.
I should have insisted that Berna come with me, but I know deep down our mother wouldn't have let her leave. My sister is just a shadow of what she once was, a shell emptied of all life force.
When I turn my gaze to the window, I spot Roxanne arranging ornaments on one of the tables, and a smile blooms on my lips.
I couldn't save Berna in time, but you, s?onko, I will protect at any cost.
I spot one of my associates heading toward Roxanne, and I feel my blood begin to boil, so I leave the office and go to the garden.
The air is filled with the scent of white roses and champagne, every corner dressed in elegance and class, and I couldn’t be prouder of Roxanne for making it all happen.
"I don't know how Damien managed to get his hands on such a magnificent creature, but I'm impressed," I hear Babicz say, and I clench my fists until my nails cut into my palms.
I know they're all wondering how a woman like her would ever agree to be my wife, but they have no idea who she really is. They don't see the armor she wears or how she keeps herself distant on purpose, just so no one expects anything she can’t give.
They don’t realize my pulse speeds up every time I go near her because I can feel her body soften, even if it’s only for a moment. No one realizes how this woman saved me from the darkness.
Just a few steps away, I hear Roxanne respond.
"This ‘magnificent creature’ needs a man who measures up, so the choice was simple."
Her words hit me straight in the chest. Though when we're alone she always pretends to push me away, in front of others she defends me without hesitation. First with Roman, now with this fucking idiot, and some tiny hope in my heart wants to believe it’s because she’s starting to care about me.
If I could, I'd kiss her right now until everyone understands she's mine.
My hand slides instinctively around her waist, and the beast inside me purrs with satisfaction when I feel her melting into my embrace.
"Babicz, I hope you're not boring my future wife. I'd hate for her to run before she says her vows," I tell him with a smile that doesn't reach my eyes.
"Just introducing myself to the woman who'll have to endure you for the rest of her life," he laughs. "Though I have to admit it's about time, especially with the vote, which, from what I hear, isn't locked down yet."
My body tenses instantly, and only the presence of the woman beside me, who discreetly grips my jacket lapel, stops me from wiping that smirk off his face.
"But I think we all want to be on the winning side, don't we?" Roxanne interjects with an icy smile, and Babicz visibly pales.
"The ceremony should start," she adds, and I nod curtly, completely ignoring the idiot in front of us.
He's never been more than an insignificant pawn. An opportunist who always went with the herd. If the majority votes for me, he will too.
I lead Roxanne to the center of the garden, still looking for any unknown figure in the crowd.
In the front rows, I spot Vasili, Roman, and Luna. On the other side, Maksim and Julia sit next to Victoria.
In the back, I notice Roxanne's uncle. Next to him are several associates from the organization, who I know will secure my vote.
I sweep my gaze across all the organization members present today, searching each face for the slightest tell. There are worried looks and carefully neutral expressions, but only one person here truly matters. The woman whose hand rests on my arm—my future wife.
Roman leaves his seat and heads toward us. When he reaches us, he extends his hand to Roxanne, and I wonder why her uncle isn't walking her down.
"I'll wait for you up front, s?onko," I whisper, leaving a gentle kiss on her cheek, and my heart nearly jumps out of my chest when she gives me one of those rare, honest smiles of hers.
I head to my place after giving Roman a brief nod. He catches the gratitude in it, and though he once opposed this marriage, he recognizes the same look he wears when he watches his tygrisek—adoration, fascination, obsession.
As I position myself in front of the priest, I watch the woman who, without knowing it, completely changed the course of my life.
All I feel when my eyes rest on her is impatience to tear apart, piece by piece, the bastard who dared turn my sunshine into a shadow.
A natural smile blooms on my lips because I know there won't be a corner of the house where his screams won't be heard.
Have patience, Damien. Just a little patience.