Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Lucia
The wedding wasn’t meant to feel romantic, and no one in that room expected it to be.
It was planned for something else entirely, something heavier than vows or celebration, and every detail reflected that from the moment I stepped inside.
The church was filled beyond capacity, not with guests in the traditional sense but with men and women who carried power in the way they stood, watched, and with the quiet understanding that this wasn’t just a union between two people.
It was an alignment between families and a statement made in front of those who mattered. The weight of it pressed in from every direction.
Everything at the venue was excessive, from the marble floors polished to a sheen, to the gold threaded into the smallest details. It was the kind of wealth that didn’t need to be announced because it was clear where it came from.
The blood of others.
As nervous as I was, I was proud of myself for not letting it show outwardly.
The air held a different kind of tension, something that was sharp with anticipation and expectation. This wasn’t my love story about to unfold. This was the pathway to hell itself, and the devil was the most handsome man I’d ever seen.
The reception hall was overwhelming in the kind of way that had nothing to do with size and everything to do with money. Crystal chandeliers stretched across the ceiling in long rows, each one dripping in light that reflected off the wealth.
The tables were dressed in silk and fine linens, centerpieces overflowing with flowers that had been flown in, their scent mixing with expensive perfume and aged liquor.
Servers moved through the room in silence, carrying trays of champagne and food that most people wouldn’t even recognize. Every detail was planned, and simply perfect.
No expense was spared. My family wanted everyone to know exactly how much wealth they had. This was what power looked like when it didn’t need to hide.
I stood beside Alexei in the middle of it all, aware of every glance that lingered too long, every quiet conversation that shifted when we moved past, and every calculated look that measured what our union meant.
Or maybe it was because I had just been married off to The Butcher himself?
But none of that held my focus for long, not when Alexei stayed at my side like he belonged there, like I did, too, now whether I wanted to admit it or not.
His gaze kept drifting back to me, dark and unrelenting, as if the entire room full of power and wealth was nothing compared to the sight of me beside him.
His hand rested at the small of my back, firm, steadfast, and every time someone stepped too close, it shifted just slightly, tightening, reminding me and everyone else exactly where I stood. It made a statement that wasn’t subtle if you knew what to look for, and in this room, everyone did. Mine.
The word didn’t need to be spoken. It was already understood.
The heat of his palm burned through the thin fabric of my dress, a silent claim that made my pulse quicken every time his fingers flexed possessively against my spine.
He leaned into me at one point, his mouth brushing close enough to my ear that I felt his breath before I heard his voice. “Stay close.” The command was quiet, measured, but it wasn’t something I could ignore even if I wanted to.
My body reacted before my mind caught up, curving into him just slightly. I felt the shift in him immediately and the way his hand pressed more firmly at my waist like he noticed. Of course he did.
A low sound rumbled in his chest, barely audible, as my body brushed against his. Something raw and hungry came from his throat that he quickly swallowed back.
“Careful, little wife,” he growled softly against my ear, the words dark with warning and filthy promise. “Keep rubbing against me like that and I’ll bend you over the nearest table and fuck you in front of every last one of these bastards. Let them watch The Butcher claim what’s his.”
I audibly gasped at his lewd and crude words, even though my pussy got wet with desire. We moved together through the room like that, not separate, not even slightly, and I felt it in every glance, every pause in conversation, every subtle reaction that followed us.
“You’re staring,” he murmured at one point, his voice low, almost amused.
“Everyone else is staring so I might as well, too,” I said, though my attention had already drifted back to him without meaning to.
His eyes darkened as they traced the line of my neck, the curve of my shoulder, lingering with an intensity that made the air between us feel charged and far too warm for the elegant room.
Time blurred after that, the noise, the movement, the constant presence of people who watched and waited. And with each passing second, the tension in my body grew until it like it would explode out of me.
I was turned on by the little touches from Alexei, of his breath at my ear as he whispered to me, and the way his big body kept me close so everyone knew I was his.
I didn’t realize how much desire had been building until Alexei’s hand tightened once more.
“We’re leaving,” he said, and it wasn’t a suggestion or something.
It was decided, and God help me… I didn’t argue or even hesitate. I let him lead me to hell.
The shift in the air around us was immediate the second we stepped away from the reception. The noise faded behind us as we made our way through the hall, past people who noticed but didn’t stop us, past conversations that paused and then resumed as if nothing had happened.
His hand never left me, guiding, and steady. I didn’t pull away because I didn’t want to.
I felt his fingers tightened slightly at my back, drawing me closer as he leaned in, his mouth brushing near my ear. The noise of the room dulled until it felt like it was just him and me. I felt the shift in Alexei and the way his body angled more toward mine, closing off any space between us.
“Why?” I finally asked in a breathless tone, even though I already knew.
His thumb pressed into my waist, slow, measured, like he wanted me to feel every second of it. His breath brushed my ear again, his voice dropping lower, rougher this time, and I shivered. “Because this part is done,” he said quietly. “They’ve seen what they needed to see.”
“What happens now?” I asked, my voice barely audible, but I knew he heard me.
“I take you upstairs to our suite,” he continued, his tone leaving no room for misunderstanding, “and I make you my wife in every way that matters.”
My breath caught, sharper than before. I felt the way his grip tightened, like he noticed every reaction I couldn’t quite hide.
“That’s why we’re leaving,” he finished, pulling back just enough to look at me, his gaze steady and dark.
“I’m not waiting any longer. I’ve been hard since the moment you walked down that aisle in white and lace, knowing I’d be the one to rip that dress off and paint your virgin cunt with my cum tonight. The Butcher doesn’t wait.”
Every step pulled us farther from the reception, the noise fading behind us as the private corridor stretched out ahead. He took hold of my hand, guiding me without hesitation, without asking, and I didn’t question it because I already knew where we were going.
The honeymoon suite that was already prepared and waiting.
My wedding night was here, and there was no stopping it.
The thought settled heavier with each step, not unfamiliar, not unexpected, but different now that it was real, now that we were married.
He didn’t slow as we reached the elaborate double doors, didn’t look back, or give me time to overthink any of it. His hand tightened in mine, keeping me right where he wanted me as we stepped inside.
The door shut behind us, cutting everything else off in an instant. The noise, people, and especially the weight of being watched.
Now, it was just us.
The suite was just as excessive as the rest of the hotel with high ceilings, soft lighting reflecting off crystal prisms, and silk, marble, and gold threaded through every furnishing. But none of it held my attention for long because Alexei’s presence commanded the room.
He was so close and just watched me, his predatory gaze reaching out and caressing me.
I barely had time to take a breath before he curled his fingers possessively around my throat. I tipped my head back to look into his face.
The shift between us was immediate, but that disappeared completely as his gaze dropped to my mouth, slower this time, and more deliberate, like he was still holding himself back.
Alexei’s hand slid up from my throat to my neck, fingers curling slightly to the side where my pulse point beat rapidly before settling there, firm.
He held me in place as his thumb brushed once along my jaw.
The touch wasn’t rushed or careless, and it made the tension between us stretch tighter instead of breaking.
“This is where everything changes,” he said, his voice lower now, rougher than it had been all night. “No more waiting, Lucia Drakovich.”
Hearing him say my new last name, my Bratva husband’s last name, shouldn’t have made my pussy wet and my nipples tighten.
I didn’t answer and couldn’t move.
He gripped me tighter, pulling me into him until there was no space left between us. I felt him fully now, the heat of his body, the strength in it, and the way he held me like I was already his in every way that mattered.
And God… he was hard. He was long and big and so thick that his erection pressed against my belly.
His head dipped slightly, his mouth brushing just at the edge of my jaw before moving lower, close enough that I felt every word against my skin.
“This will be your first time,” he murmured, his tone quieter now but no less certain. “I’ll take my time with you, be as soft as I can, sweet Lucia.” There was a tightness in his words, something primal that made my pulse spike.
His grip tightened at my hip as his breath dragged across my neck, slower now, heavier.
“And when I’m done,” he continued, his voice closer to something unrestrained, “the sheets will be wet and tinged pink from your virginity and the cum from our orgasms. There won’t be any question about who you belong to.”
My breath caught again, sharper this time, and he felt it. I knew he did from the way his body pressed more firmly into mine. I felt his erection throb against me as his arousal grew.
“You’re mine now,” he said, pulling back just enough to look at me again, his gaze dark and focused.
“No one else touches you. No one else gets near you. I’ll kill them if they do.
” His voice was hard and unyielding, and there was no doubt he told the truth.
“I’ll slit their throats and make you watch if any man even looks at you too long.
Then I’ll fuck you on their corpses so you never forget who owns this tight little pussy.
” His fingers flexed around my throat, not choking but promising how easily he could.
“Say it. Tell me you understand who you belong to now.”
Everything else fell away completely. The room, all the expectations that had been ingrained in me, and all the fears and worries that had plagued me. All of it was gone in an instant until all I could feel, see, and touch was him. Alexei. My husband.
“I’m yours.” That was the only thing I could say.
I focused on the way he touched me, on the consuming way he looked at me, and how there was no distance left between us anymore—and not just in the literal sense.
“Yeah, you fucking are.” His fingers dug into me more now, not enough to hurt but enough to hold, enough to keep me exactly where he wanted me.
And whatever came next… there was no walking away from it.