Page 17 of Midnight Wedding

I’m covered in a sheen of sweat when I finish. I have no idea what’s happening with me. I want to splash water on my face, but that’ll only ruin my makeup. Instead, I fan myself with paper towels and lean up against the wall.

Mom’s right. I need to see a doctor. But what Vadim said starts to bother me.

I know he was joking—but what if he’s right?

I haven’t had sex since that night with Arsen, and I haven’t seen him around the building since.

We weren’t careful though, and what if I really did get pregnant?

I push the thought away. No way in hell is that happening. Mom’s my focus right now, and I’m not letting myself get distracted by some stupid what-ifs.

Instead, I remind myself why I put up with this horrible job—money, Mom’s cancer—and slip out of the bathroom.

The thing about Saro’s office is it’s in the very back of the building. The music’s not as loud and he’s got his own exit into the alley right outside in the hall. The door’s open and light spills in from outside. Cool spring air blows against the little hairs on my arms. I’ve never actually seen this door open before, and my God, I should just head back to the dance floor and start slinging overpriced alcohol some more.

But it’s an open door I’ve never explored, and there’s no way in hell I can resist it.

I creep over, paying attention in case Saro or one of his cronies shows up. I don’t feel like getting yelled at tonight, not after spewing my face off. I look out at a dumpster and some indistinct graffiti sprayed on the wall, probably Saro’s gang tag or something equally stupid. I poke my head out, just wanting to get a feel for what’s going on?—

And stare at two men, their backs to me, both of them holding guns as Saro cowers on the ground in front of them.

I freeze. Cold terror fills my bones.

The look on Saro’s face is horrifying.

His eyes are wide and his mouth is trembling and he looks like he wants to start crying. I’ve never seen anyone look so pathetic and scared before in my life and it shatters my heart and sends icicles clawing down my spine.

I need to run. I need to run.

But voices hit me, and I stay where I am.

“…we’re finishing what you started. You understand that, cousin?”

“Please, Arsen,” Saro croaks, tears running down his face. “I didn’t mean anything. The family was at war and I thought?—”

“You thought you’d steal what’s rightfully mine.”

I can’t move. I can’t breathe.

That name.

That voice.

His wide shoulders and lean, muscular physique. The way he holds himself like he’s about to spring into motion.

That night comes back to me. His hands on my body, his tongue in my mouth, his dick between my legs. His smirk as he tugged me closer against him and bent down to whisper in my ear. “I’m not done with you yet, my thief.”

“It’s not like that. I just wanted something for myself.”

“Shut the fuck up, Saro,” the other man says. “You and your idiots killed two of our guys and muscled onto our territory. You know what has to happen.”

“We can make a deal. Please, I’ll join you against Uncle Garen.”

Arsen’s chuckle is low and deadly. It sends a knot of pure, frozen fear into my guts. I think I might throw up again, except I don’t know how to make myself move.

“And trust a traitor? Sorry, cousin. I don’t think so.”

Saro lets out a low, pathetic moan—and then he looks at me.

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