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Chapter1
Nikolai
Iwipe the blood on a snow-white handkerchief, the dark humor of the moment not lost on me. I flex my hand experimentally; my knuckles only hurt a little, and while there won’t be bruising, I can see where the teeth scraped my skin.
Funny how this wouldn’t fucking bother me if it had been last year.
“There’s trouble coming.”
Tony doesn’t answer me as he drives. He doesn’t have to. Instead of trying again, I put the bloodied square of material down and pick up my Kimber, reloading it before I flex my hand again.
Fucking Rose. She’s not going to like it. She’ll fuss and be a pain in my ass. Her sweet touch will slip over the slight injury before her big blue eyes meet mine, and those shining eyes will be full of a dangerous mixture of anger, worry, and that tiny gleam of satisfaction, like she’s not ashamed of the life I’ve dragged her into. Like she’s proud.
She’s a conundrum, one I can’t let go of, one I can’t quite solve.
I’m not used to the sweetness, the soft touch, the way her fierceness and bloodlust affect me. It’s like a shockwave of a slowly-rolling quake, like nothing on this Earth.
She’s going to cause problems.
Enemies, at least those that remain, see her as my vulnerability.
They’re right.
Today, I sorted out rumblings of dissent; if heads were smashed, lives ended, so fucking be it. I’ve worked hard to get here. The ordinary whispers and tests of my power, I expect. Fuck, I’d be suspicious without them. It’s the tone I don’t like. Exactly what that means, though, I’m not sure.
“You could always not marry her,” Tony says.
I pull my phone out and send a one-handed text for our next quarry. Then, I point my gun at him. “I could always just shoot you.”
He scoffs. “Mia won’t like it.”
I smile nastily. “I really don’t give a fuck. Besides, your wife will get over it.”
“Maybe.” His soft laughter fills the space again as he turns onto the road where we’ve got a warehouse meeting. “You think the trouble here is gonna be something, or just the ordinary?”
He pulls up and checks his gun. As we get out of the car, I look at him. “Guess we’re gonna find the fuck out.”
* * *
Fuck. My day ended up longer than I wanted or needed.
Too many small things to ignore. A few too many changes with some suppliers. A so-called fucking ally or two who were unexpectedly busy to talk to me.Me.
Even without the shift in power, all those things happen on a regular basis. Still, the beat beneath them has changed, and I’m listening.
It’s that beat that winds back to the word trouble.
Now that I’m in my study, I loosen my tie and pour a whiskey, knocking a good portion back. It’s my upcoming marriage that’s got tongues loose—the real one, not just some made up charade to piss off her father. People are uneasy, at least some of them, but I know it’s more than that. I can almost taste it in the fucking air.
Tony’s right. I don’t need to marry Rose. I’m not into that shit, or the gilt and fanfare and the traditional claiming. The only part that I like is the officialness of it all—her being mine legally, on paper, as well as heart, mind, and soul.
Completelymine.
I close my eyes a moment. Rose… fuck. Rose wants the ring I gave her. She wants the wedding.
Rose deserves the fucking world.
I refill my glass and sit, pulling up my computer right as my phone rings. Without even glancing at the screen, I know who it is.
