Page 24 of Bound to a Monster

“Lady shit. You wanna see my tampons now too?”

He snorts and crosses his arms over his chest. “I grew up in this house with you. I know how gross you are by now.”

I shove the bag of pregnancy tests—all used, all positive—into my drawer. “Tell Dad I’ll come down and talk to him in a little while.”

“You sure you’re good?” Luca glances at the wedding dress hanging on the back of the closet. “I know this is a lot. I mean, shit can’t be easy?—”

“I’m fine.” I stare at him before forcing myself to smile big. That’s right, I’ve got it all together. I’m good to go. I’m normal, regular, happy Carmie, easygoing and amenable.

“Yeah, all right, Carms. Just go talk to the old man before he loses his fucking head. And if you need anything, ask me. I mean that. I know this sucks, but you’re doing the right thing.” He hesitates and I can tell he wants to say more, but he leaves it there and walks off.

I slump back against the bed and stifle a sob. I have to bite my lip to keep from breaking down.

I’m screwed. I’m so screwed. I’m beyond screwed—I’m destroyed.

Lev’s going to realize what happened, and he’s going to kill me. I can’t exactly hide a baby. And there’s no way in fuckinghellI’m getting an abortion or anything like that—maybe this isn’t how I saw myself becoming a mom, but that still means something to me.

This baby’s mine, whether I wanted it or not, and now I have to figure out how I’m going to handle this absolute wreck of a situation.

Chapter 9

Lev

Iadjust my tie and stare at myself in the mirror. The mask is on, but it feels heavy, like my usual charming smile wants to slip off and reveal the inky black horrors underneath.

I hate this shit. I despise being the center of attention. It’s still early in the day, and I’m already exhausted. Everyone assumes that fun-loving, charismatic Lev loves a party, but they’re so fucking wrong. This sort of event exhausts me because it means I have to beonfor hours.

I have to keep the mask firmly in place.

No slips. No excuses.

The wedding’s happening at the Fairmount Waterworks. It’s the old water station right next to the Schuylkill River, and it’s a gorgeous venue. Italians and Russians mingle indoors and on a huge patio area where the main reception will happen. The weather’s gorgeous, which is a bonus.

I haven’t seen my wife for longer than a few minutes. For all I know, she’s running away.

“You good, bro?” Alex steps into the little private room set aside for the groom’s side.

“Just taking a break.” I look sideways at him. Of everyone in the world, I could probably be myself the most around Alex. Except even that’s dangerous. “I was hoping for something small at the courthouse, and yet here we are.”

“Valentin Zeitsev requested this, and if that’s how thepakhanwants it?—”

“That’s what thepakhangets,” I finish for him.

He squeezes my shoulder. “Come on, it’ll be all right. Ceremony’s in a half hour. Dancing and dinner after that. Then it’s all done and you have yourself a pretty new Italian wife.”

“I’m so excited I can barely breathe.”

“Tell that to your face.” He stands beside me in the mirror. I’ve got a smirk plastered on, but it’s hard not to see the stress at my edges. “You know how much this means to everyone,” he says softly.

“I know why I’m doing this.” For the family. For myself.

Not for the little fencer that stormed into my life and upset the balance I’ve so carefully constructed.

“Then let’s get through it.” He takes a flask from his jacket and holds it up. “Za vas.” He takes a hit and passes it over.

“To the family,” I say before letting some whiskey warm my throat.

After that, it’s more mingling. I meet more old Italian men than I ever wanted to. Adriano’s there for most of it, guiding me along and letting me know which of his Capos are importantand which are on the outskirts of his organization and which are only aware of their legitimate activities, such as they are. I do the same for him with my people, and I can’t help but smirk at the idea of having a mafia/bratva mixer and networking party.

---