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“Stop this immediately!” a deep voice bellows, and I recognize it to be my father’s.
11
Viktor
Ifeel anger before anything else. I rarely do when things get ugly, but to have Sage’s wretched excuse for a father crashing through the window and ruining my wedding day is something I can’t move past so easily.
I release Sage’s hand, pushing her back into the arms of my security guard before going for my gun. I didn’t want to have to kill Mr. Thompson, but I will if he’s going to crash my wedding and cause a scene.
He’s made his choices. It’s about time I make mine.
“Don’t shoot him!” I hear Sage’s voice behind me, but I ignore her. I’m blinded by my rage, unable to exercise what little empathy I have left. I charge toward Mr. Thompson as two guards grab him, yanking his hands behind his back to leave him vulnerable to my fists.
He isn’t armed, which is both a mistake and a blessing for him. He won’t be able to defend himself, but he also isn’t a threat toanyone here, so he doesn’t necessarily need to be shot on the spot.
I start with a fist to his stomach. I’d love to scramble his face, but I have a habit of breaking people’s skulls when I hit them. He could die from a single fist, and I’m certain Sage would throw a fit about it.
She married me to save him, after all. If I kill him, she will feel betrayed.
But he’s the one betraying her right now, showing up to the wedding to play hero. I could’ve sworn I had managed to keep anyone from knowing where the venue was, but somehow he found us. I want answers before I end his miserable life.
There’s a rat among us, and he’s going to tell me who.
I realize as I pull my first back again that everyone is staring at me. Beating a man senseless in front of my guests is far worse than what Mr. Thompson just did, so I drop my hand. I’m not trying to embarrass myself at my own wedding.
“Bring him downstairs,” I grunt to my guards as he wheezes in their arms. He’s limp, but obviously still alive. A blow that big gut of his isn’t going to kill him.
I spin around on my heels, ignoring the rolling murmurs from the crowd as I pass through it again to reach Sage. She’s already in tears, her mascara running down her flushed cheeks like polluted rivers.
Even though her father is the one responsible for this mess, I’m hit by a pang of guilt. This is her wedding too, usually one of the most special days in a woman’s life, and I’ve made a scene out of it.
“Come,” I mutter, grabbing her by the arm to lead her out. “Let’s put this behind us.”
She continues crying, not saying a word until we’re out of the hall and behind closed doors, where our honeymoon suit has turns into a battleground.
Less than five minutes after our vows, and I’m already heading for divorce. Lovely.
“How could you do that!” she shouts at me, throwing her fists down to her sides the moment the door closes.
I sigh, the weight of the moment pulling the confidence out of my shoulders. I slump forward a bit as I sit down on the edge of the bed, thinking of a response. “What can I say but I’m sorry? I didn’t know that he’d be at the wedding. I specifically took precautions against it,” I say.
She shakes her head. “Not enough, obviously. And then you went and pulled a gun on him. Were you going to kill him in front of everyone?”
I laugh through my nose. “No, that would’ve been a bit extreme.”
“You almost did it. Everyone saw you pull that gun,” she says, using a napkin from the table to dab the tears from her eyes. It’s a bit late for that now, but I wouldn’t dare tell her. The last thing you want to do is nitpick an angry woman.
“I didn’t shoot him, but I do think he deserved the punch to the gut. He tried to ruin our wedding,” I say.
She crosses her arms. “You didn’t have to do that either.”
“What should I have done?”
She shrugs. “Escorted him out. Your guards already had him.”
I shake my head. “How do I know he wouldn’t come back with a gun? The man has lost everything.”
“Correction… You took everything from him. He didn’t lose it on his own.”
