Page 62 of The Queen's Denial

Minutes later, Chi begins walking down the aisle. Everyone “oohs” and “aahs” at her designer dress, but I’m just staring at her face. She’s opted out of her fake eyelashes and heavy makeup. Her natural bronze glow shines through, and she smiles at everyone. Everyone except me, which I’m certain is a methodical choice on her part.

I’m certain she knows she holds the advantage in this encounter — she controls the board. She may not be looking at me, but I’m riveted to her. I can’t stop staring. And for whatever reason, I don’t give nearly enough shits to care about who realizes it.

Cas smirks at me but says nothing. Asshole.

Chi tries extremely hard not to notice I’m staring at her, but I see the very moment she catches me in her peripheral vision. Her eyes flit away from me too quickly, and she licks her lips nervously. She can’t stop peeking at me after she notices, and I don’t even fucking care that I’m staring at her like a total creep.

Luckily, Mara comes out a moment later, and all eyes turn to her, except mine. I stare openly at Chi. I don’t know why I’m doing this to myself or to her, but I want her to feel me. I want her to be trapped, to feel me devouring her with my gaze. I want her to be as fucking eaten alive by me as I’ve been by her.

I see her getting more and more antsy as the ceremony progresses. By the time it’s over, she’s sweating me, and I can tell. Anyone who’s watching can tell, as she fidgets and steals darting glances at me — stares at everything below my neck so she doesn’t have to look into my eyes. And I fucking love every second of it.

“I now pronounce you man and wife!” Cas grabs Mara with far more strength than is probably necessary and nearly picks her up in a bruising kiss against him, right in front of everyone. It lasts so long that the crowd actually starts to get uncomfortable and murmur.

I hear someone say, “Get it, King Cas!” and I just know it’s that fucker Beck. In the moment it takes me to find him in the crowd, Chi makes her exit behind Mara and Cas. I see her hurry inside with her head down, a veil of shiny black gossamer shielding her face from mine.

When I look back at Beck, even angrier about his presence here than I was before, I realize he’s seen my scorching gaze at Chi’s back. He looks back and forth between us and then settles on me and wiggles his brows. I fucking hate that guy.

I do the necessary rounds, knowing I’m going to have to be the charming one between Cas and me, since Cas is a grumpy fucker who couldn’t care less about any of these people and likely just wants to fuck his wife into every surface of this homestead. They’re supposedly off taking pictures for the next three hours, but there’s no part of me that believes Cas didn’t take pictures for ten minutes and then threaten to slit the photographer’s throat before ripping Mara’s dress off and carrying her upstairs kicking and screaming.

Niko, Mara’s cousin, sits awkwardly next to some Russian guy I’ve seen a few times and otherwise doesn’t really talk to anyone. I think the girl Beck is with takes pity on him and goes to strike up a conversation, and before I know it, Beck is striding up to me casually without a care in the world.

“Hey, brother! So, you and Chee-chee Yan?”

I have to physically hold myself back from punching the dimples right off his face. “Don’t fucking call her that.” She’s mine. And I also know he has no actual feelings for any of the women he has ever had a relationship with. Before he was underboss, he was a romancer. The only woman I’ve ever seen him lower himself to speak to in public is his old boss’s daughter, who came with him today, and they have more of a friendship vibe going on than anything else.

I fucking hate romancers. They’re pretty little shits who flash their pearly white teeth at the ladies with serious financial issues and then get them to work for their shady-ass strip clubs. Cas says Beck isn’t into that anymore, but I don’t care. Nothing about it sits right with me, so Beck himself doesn’t either.

“What?” he asks, looking mildly scandalized. “I know her. Well, a little. I met her twice. Once when I saw her at her mansion, and then another time when I came to Boston for a meeting and then saw her out at a club afterwards. Girl was barely 21 and licking lemon drops off my abs like her life depended on it—”

I’ve got him by the collar of his shirt before I can think twice, and I pull him so close to my face that he crashes into me.

“What the fuck—”

“Don’t ever talk about my girl like that again, you motherfucker. Or Cas won’t be the only one threatening to cut your head off your body and stick it on a pike outside that gaudy, ugly-ass mansion you call home.”

Beck continues to smirk at me, which I feel is a terrible choice on his part because I am never this irrationally angry. I don’t even recognize myself right now, and have no idea what I’m capable of when I’m like this.

“Whooooaaa, Andy, take it easy. I heard you were such a cool, laid back guy. Sounds like we could be best friends, ya know? If you could just stop being such a fucking prick.”

“Sure, I’ll be your best friend. Let’s go take a walk, asshole. Watch this best friend impale you with a fucking tree branch—”

“Okay, boys.” The girl that Beck came with grabs his jacket like he’s an unruly teenager and pulls him back from me, while also pushing me harshly enough to make it clear that if I take this any further, I’m in trouble, too. She jostles us around a bit, but my grip on his jacket holds strong.

She is undeterred and continues. “Maybe we can refrain from being complete assholes at your best friend’s wedding, Andy? What do you think?”

“Oh, that’s weird; this weaselly little fuck just said he wanted to be my best friend. I was gonna show him my gun collection and see if he wanted to do some target practice with me.”

“Jesus Christ.” The girl — I think her name is Viviana — pushes me harder, but I don’t budge. “Aren’t you supposed to be the sane Scutari?”

“Andy, what are you doing?” The dulcet tone of Chi’s voice cuts through the haze of anger immediately. I turn my head to meet Chi’s eyes, soft as melted chocolate, and the fire and adrenaline in my gut vanish. I let go of Beck’s suit and shove him away.

Beck studies his outfit and finds a tiny crease that he pushes down with his finger. “You’ve ruined my suit, sir. Expect a bill.”

“Andy, let’s go, please?” Chi pulls me, and I follow, willingly, blindly, and without care as to how many years of my life I’ll lose walking away from her again after how hard I’m about to slam my cock into her on every surface of the bridal suite.

Chapter 33

Chi

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