Chapter 23
Artem
I can split open a thousand men and bathe in their blood, but nothing compares to the euphoria I feel when I breathe in her vanilla scent and look into her blue eyes.
And I haven’t even kissed her yet.
Finaly, there is silence in my head. Especially after ten days in which I thought the voices would win the battle they were waging against one frail thread of conscience. I clung to it as hard as I could, constantly reminding myself why I had to stay away from Ekaterina.
My patience was tested every second, and I am not known for being a patient man.
Maybe that is why I watched her in secret every day whenever I had the chance.
And when I could not get there, I had Dima taking pictures of her and send them to me.
Not one or two a day. I texted him almost every hour, sometimes even more often, and now I have an album made only of images of the woman I am obsessed with.
Unfortunately, my brothers followed me like shadows throughout this entire time, afraid I would lose control completely. Otherwise, something beautiful would have happened the night Ekaterina went to dinner with my number one enemy.
Beautiful for me.
Ugly for him.
Spoiler: we would have made him eat
pieces of his own flesh.
And I would have done it under the eyes of the journalists he himself brought there, according to my sources.
He made his return to the city sound like a real lifestyle event, but something wasn’t to my beloved’s taste.
And I’m not referring to the food, but to the conversation I was able to hear thanks to the microphones installed under the table.
Oh, yes. With the right people, I was able to get into his assistant’s system and find out where she had made the dinner reservation. In a digital age, no information is safe anymore, and I have a team capable of finding out everything.
That conversation was the last drop in the glass.
But the glass spilled over the day Ekaterina tried on the wedding dress.
A true princess, meant to be my wife, in that very dress, but stained with the blood of those standing in our way.
The first to kill was the loudmouthed woman with a small device in her ear, who was getting ready to announce to everyone that the bride’s new bodyguards were dropping like flies behind her.
The boys could have restrained her easily, without hurting her.
But I had enough days to find out the ugly things that woman had been doing with her clients’ money, so they had permission to eliminate her if she got in their way.
What can I say?
Suppressed guns were perfect for this kind of operation, especially since we also had music in the background to cover any other noise.
I’m not a fan of these events, but I really liked this one. Not to mention this is the first wedding I have ever attended, and so far, I like the way it’s unfolding.
Especially the part where I get to kiss the bride.
I can hardly wait.
Someone clears his throat behind me, and a deep voice tells me quietly, but firmly. “We are kind of in a hurry...”
I swear Yaroslav was born to be the most nagging brother alive.
I sigh and whisper to the woman in front of me,
“We’ll continue later.”
“I’m going to kill you!” I hear another voice behind me, far angrier, and I turn slowly toward Oliver Prescott, future Lord.
Future corpse.
Yes, yes, we will get there too.
For now, though, he is very red in the face.
“You’re the one with a gun pressed to your temple, you bloody idiot,” I tell him in an impeccable British accent that hides my origins.
“Do not think you’re going to get away with this so easily?” He keeps raging, but I ignore him.
I wrap one arm around my bride’s waist, pulling her against me, and looking across the room. Meanwhile, I extend my other arm, the gun almost touching Oliver’s forehead.
I am surprised he’s not crying, considering there are two weapons aimed at his head. Mine, and Yaroslav’s, who doesn’t loosen his powerful grip on him.
Unfortunately for Oliver, I have other plans when it comes to him.
“I want someone to officiate a marriage, or I blow his brains out,” I say loudly, stirring a wave of panic.
I feel Katya’s whole body turn rigid, but her gaze drops toward Oksana, her friend, who is now crouched on the floor, following orders like everyone else.
Meanwhile, Mikhail remains frozen in his place on the bench, pretending to be surprised – just like everyone else – by this unpleasant situation.
Luckily, no one here knows his true nature, or how quickly he would have pulled out the gun he has hidden somewhere under his jacket and fired at anyone who threatened his little sister’s life.
But Mikhail is the only guest who supported my plan from the moment I told him, and he is ready to intervene if things get even more out of hand than I expect.
“Don’t make me repeat myself. With this many people in here, we can surely find one priest. Alive. Now, whether you want to witness a wedding or a massacre is entirely your problem.”
The sobs around us intensify, but a man past sixty slowly rises from his seat. Luck is smiling on me because he is already dressed in priestly robes.
“I can,” he says, his voice trembling.
“If you are kind, we are all waiting for you here,” I tell him, lowering my gun.
His gaze darts to the former priest’s corpse, still stretched out at my feet.
“Keep it short, and I promise nothing will happen to you.”
He quickens his steps a little, and when he reaches us, he asks, more frightened by the second. “Who is getting married?”
I pull my bloodstained bride closer. “The two of us.”
That sparks an explosive reaction from my beautiful bride.
“Have you completely lost your mind?”
I bring my face close to hers again.
“I have never been more lucid, Ekaterina,” I murmur against her skin, calm but firm. “And if you want all these people to walk out of here alive, you would be wise not to complicate this situation any further.”
“I hate you,” she hisses with anger.
I smile, though she cannot see my face.
“I don’t believe you. By the way, give me your engagement ring.”
I extend my hand, and she stares at me, shocked.
?Why?”
?You really think we’re getting married with that idiot’s ring still on your finger?”
She clenches her teeth and, thankfully, says nothing else, because that would only drag the moment out even longer. And time is not on our side. Soon, we will be surrounded by police.
She hands me the ring with a near-violent motion – that make me fall harder for her – which I slip into my pocket. Then I pull another one from inside my jacket – the one I had made especially for her, with a diamond in the center and sapphires all around it, just like her beautiful eyes.
I turn my attention back to the priest and gesture for him to hurry with the hand holding the gun.
“As short as possible, Father. And skip the part about ‘freely and willingly,’ please.”
He clears his throat and presses his lips together, but after making the sign of the cross, he begins. “We are gathered here today...”
Yar makes a sound close to a growl, reminding me that he warned me from the beginning that my wedding idea would cost us precious minutes.
I don’t like it when someone else is right and I am not.
“Go straight to the vows,” I say the sharp order to the priest.
“Yes,” he quickly agrees, swallowing with difficulty. “Ekaterina Borislova, do you take...”
He looks at me. With this mask on my face, I don’t think even my father would recognize me. But I cannot know for certain, because he didn’t attend the wedding the way he was supposed to.
“Just an angel,” I answer the priest with a calm and confident voice, making him blink with confusion.
“Do you take this angel to be your husband?”
She doesn’t answer. If her fury could produce smoke, I would see nothing around me, and I would be covered in soot.
“Tick-tock, Ekaterina, or I start removing one person for every second I waste here.”
But in my earpiece, I hear the voice of one of my soldiers positioned outside the building.
“Twenty seconds. One car is arriving even sooner, but we’ll eliminate them before they reach the cathedral doors.”
I tighten my fingers around her waist, causing her a little pain, I’m sure.
“Ekaterina, I will shoot them.” Is time for threatening.
“Yes! Fine!” she snaps, like a spoiled child.
“And I do!” I rush to say with an enthusiasm worthy of Sasha.
But the priest insists on doing it his way.
“Angel... do you take Ekaterina to be your wife?”
“Yes,” I say again, normal this time.
“By the power vested in me by God, I now pronounce you husband and wife.”
I turn my head toward Katya just as the priest utters the ordinary words giving me permission to kiss her. I don’t need anyone’s permission to wrap one hand around her throat and pull her toward me. I turn my back to our wonderful audience and lift my mask, pressing my lips to hers.
Explosions detonate inside my head the moment I conquer her mouth, hungry and desperate to feel all of her. My tongue lures her in, and I lick her lower lip. When she gives in and grants me access, I become a god through everything she gives me.
Her lips.
Her tongue.
The sigh that escapes her chest.
The delicate hands gripping the lapels of my jacket.
But I want her heart.
I pull away and put my mask back in place just as the voice in my earpiece – human voice – tells me the teams are in front of the cathedral.
Fortunately, whoever sent all these reinforcements doesn’t seem to have blocked the exit through the underground passage, which we discovered recently while analyzing every inch of this location, even though the door had been sealed for years.
“You need to leave with her right now. We’ll handle things here,” my older brother tells me as one of the brigadiers takes over Oliver.
I hesitate. I don’t want to leave my men behind, least of all my brothers, but Yar puts a hand on my arm, the one still holding Katya close to me.
“Go. We’ll be fine.”
I exhale shortly.
“I want at least one of them alive,” I tell him quickly, then start to leave.