Page 26 of His Wild Attraction

He probably saw more than she thought, but he wouldn’t have to deal with any of that anymore.

I was here now, and I would protect him. Give him a life any kid would be lucky to have, filled with warmth, security, and happiness.

I just had to figure out how to kill his sperm donor and not freak Ellie out.

Step one was getting her to date me. But that was moot since she asked me to marry her.

Being a father to Sammy was one of the perks of being with Ellie. And being with her was everything.

I checked my watch and sucked in a breath. We were starting any minute now.

Just seconds away from putting my last name on her, from sliding my ring onto her finger, where it would stay, and I swear to fuck, I was shaking with nerves.

Goddamn.

Anxiety skittered up my spine, and I flexed my hands, trying hard not to show it. This was the most important moment of my life.

The moment I become a husband and a father.

“Relax, the wedding is the easy part,” Adrik said, joining us with Marat on his heels.

“Take it easy. You’re like family, bro. We got you,” Marat added.

“Um, I know this is short notice, but since I’m about to become a married man, I figured it’s as good a time as any to confess something?—”

“Confess? What are you talking about?” Adrik asked.

“Well, um, you mentioned I was like family. So, you know how my last name is Ramirez?”

“Yeah.”

“Actually, that was my stepfather’s name.”

“Oh, yeah?” Marat said, sipping from his tumbler of whiskey.

“Yeah. My biological father’s surname was Volkov.”

Marat made a choking sound, turned his head, spitting out the ice cube he almost choked on.

Adrik just glared at me with his dark, unwavering stare.

As for Josef, well, he just whistled.

“Our father did not cheat?—”

“Not your father. Your uncle. Ivan Volkov. He was my biological father. I never met him, but his name was on my birth certificate and my mother told me all about it when I turned sixteen and found it in a desk drawer.”

“So, you are saying what, Andres? All this time, you worked for me, and I didn’t know you are our cousin,” Adrik said, his voice deep and low.

I tipped my chin and exhaled a breath.

“That’s what I am saying,” I said, looking at Adrik for a reaction.

“Excuse me, gentlemen, the ladies are ready to start,” the officiant, an older man who worked at my mother’s church, interrupted us with a genuine smile on his face.

I nodded my head in his direction to show I’d heard him and waited for him to walk away before directing my attention back to the men standing in front of me.

The officiant’s name was Arthur McDonough, and I’d hired him after a thorough vetting on my mother’s recommendation.

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