Page 76 of Hers to Control

Not feeling like there is anything that can break through my apathy right now, I nod. “Okay, what is it?”

“He hid the money. If you want it, it’s yours. He gave me the codes to access the accounts.”

I shake my head. I know exactly what money Eric is talking about. The money my father stole from the Russians. It wasn’t his first crime. Those started when he got involved with the Bratva, but it was the one that truly destroyed us. The one that landed him, in a roundabout way, in prison. “I don’t want anything to do with that money.”

Eric nods. “Okay.”

“If this plan Gianna and Mikhail came up with is supposed to work, I can’t be seen throwing around money that my father stole from Tsepov.” Talking about my father has a weird pressure building in my chest, and I guess that’s the weight of grief that I have to get used to now.

“I can handle that. We wash money through the gambling halls all the time. The Russians wouldn’t find out. I don’t give a fuck if you want to let that money rot, but if you want it, you can have it, no risk of blow-back.”

I shake my head again. “I don’t want it.”

Eric lifts his hand and strokes my cheek. It’s such an unexpected gesture I stare at him in bewilderment.

“If you want, I can get that money washed and put it into an account for Peanut. For college or something.”

“Peanut…” The thought of securing Peanut’s future is about the only thing that might change my mind, and the fact that Eric is thinking about it has whatever was left in me that was holding back from him melting away.

“Yes.” My voice is stronger now. “Okay. I want you to do that.”

Eric’s gaze softens in a way I’ve never seen before. “I’ll take care of it.”

Eric

As we step into the church, the scent of incense and candle wax fills the air, mingling with the murmured conversations of the congregation. Mia’s presence at my side only adds to the satisfaction coursing through me. These are my people. With the shit of the previous months over with, I no longer feel the sense of betrayal Gianna’s doubts in me caused.

Mia’s hand in mine replaces the feel of my knife’s handle that I usually play with to occupy me.

This is a fuck of a lot better than my blade, and I quickly check her expression.

She looks relaxed.

The church is filled almost exclusively with faces I recognize, members of the Bruno syndicate and our associates mingling among the pews. A few people from Angelo’s family are sitting towards the back and I can spot their boss in the front with only his right-hand man, Toni, next to him.

As we make our way down the aisle, I remind myself that soon I’ll get Mia to walk down this same aisle. I won’t give her much more time. The ring is on her finger now. Time she accepts that it’s a done deal.

Most people’s eyes are on us, forcing me to do my best to suppress the urge to flip those of them off who are grinning like maniacs.

Despite Gianna’s decision to keep things relatively simple, despite the extensive guest list, she’s still an Italian at heart. No surprise then that the church is decked out with rich tapestries, ridiculous amounts of flowers, and flickering candlelight. It’s a testament to our heritage and my cousin’s influence.

There are close to five hundred people packed into this place. It’s a security nightmare, in all honesty, but we did several sweeps of the place and had people guarding the doors for the past two weeks since the plans for the wedding started in earnest.

Two weeks of hell, if anyone asks me. Today I’m a guest, though, sitting in the congregation right after I deposit Mia at the front of the church, where she’ll take her place next to Gianna. The bridal party is about the only thing that was kept small. Given that Mikhail is standing up front by himself, it would have looked ridiculous otherwise. Plus, Gianna doesn’t do girlfriends.

Last night, instead of some sort of bridal shower or some shit like that, we went to eat at Mateo’s restaurant. Romeo, Mateo, and Maria joined Gianna, Mikhail, Mia and I. Casual.

Family.

“Slow down,” Mia hisses, and I realize I’ve been stalking towards the altar. I slow my steps.

“Are you going to give me a date soon, or do I have to give you one?” I ask her as we finally approach the front.

Mia huffs. “This is hardly the time to fight about that.”

“I’m not fighting.”

She snorts. “Well, I’m sure as hell not going to let you pick our wedding date.”

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