Page 62 of Ruthless Bonds

Kreos was many things, but patient was not one of them. I’d figured I would have months before he would want to get married, but he wasn’t even giving me weeks.

Six days.

He was giving me six days before he stripped me of all my freedom. And that really put a damper on my escape plan. Because it seemed like half of New York was downstairs in the massive ballroom, waiting to see the woman who had melted the monster’s heart.

At least that was what Tash said she’d overheard on her way up to check on me. Now I stood hidden behind a pillar as Grig pointed discreetly into the crowd at the monsters wearing designer suits.

“Roman Lomanovich.” He nodded at the man with the shaved head. “The extortionist. He can strip a man of everything—dignity, wealth, even his suit—without even raising his voice.” His eyes shifted to the right. “And there next to the Pakhan—Cheslav Zatori. Tech genius. You can’t hide anything from him.”

There was no way I was going to remember any of this. I took a deep breath, attempting to calm my nerves. “Who else?”

“The man in the bright red suit, that’s Ezo. He’s the weapons guy—buying, selling, smuggling. He’s got a temper that makes a bomb look stable. Stay away from him. Then over there with the redhead on his arm, that’s Leonis Riska. Those mangled ears are from his underground death matches. And he’s talking with Aleksandr Petrov, who once killed a man for spilling his vodka. He’s in charge of making sure things run smoothly in Toronto.”

I studied Kreos’ inner circle, his Vors, trying to commit each of their faces to memory. They were a group of men in their late thirties who looked like they should be on the cover ofGQmagazine, but in reality they would destroy your entire life if you crossed them.

They weren’t the only powerful men in the room. Grig pointed out several senators, judges, millionaire businessmen and women all mingling together, getting off on their power and wealth. And blending into the background was a sea of security and bodyguards, all focused on making sure no trouble erupted.

My gaze traveled back to Kreos, who stood out like a wolf among his sheep. His dark blue eyes surveyed the room with a calculating coldness. From up top, I could see how others instinctively created space around him, like they knew they were too close to a predator.

Except for one dark-haired woman in a red dress who kept finding reasons to put her perfectlymanicured hands on Kreos. She’d touch his arm, lean in too close, laugh way too loud to be genuine. It wasn’t like I was jealous. But come on, this was my engagement party, and she was acting like a dog in heat. Well, we’d have to put a stop to that now, wouldn’t we?

“I’m ready.” I nodded to Grig and Tash who escorted me to the top of the staircase. Once there, they stood behind me as I walked down the red-carpeted stairs. The champagne-colored gown Dove had picked out shimmered with every step, thousands of tiny little crystals catching the light.

The crowd murmured and parted for Kreos, who came to wait for me at the bottom of the stairs. He was devastatingly handsome in his black tux. His eyes darkened as they swept over me, a possessive look in them making my pulse quicken. When I reached him, he took my hand, pressed a kiss to my knuckles, then another to my cheek. God, he smelled good. I hadn’t seen him since yesterday in the closet, but for some reason, it seemed like weeks.

He turned to address the crowd. “Ladies and gentlemen, may I present my fiancée, Alora.”

Applause surrounded us, with some wolf whistles thrown in the mix, making me chuckle. Not everyone was happy, though. The dark-haired woman glared daggers at me, and I smiled brightly in return.

I let Kreos walk me around the room and introduce me to everyone who was important. It was surprising how nice everyone was. Maybe I was a fool who was easily manipulated, but not everyone seemed like a monster. I’d have to ask Gavriil, since he was the secrets expert.

Dove was sipping on a glass of champagne nextto Gavriil, and I made my way over to her. I’d told her she didn’t have to come, but she’d insisted she wasn’t going to miss out on dressing up. Her white dress clung to her, a complete contrast to her tattooed arms. She wore a silk scarf braided into her hair like a crown that reminded me of a Greek goddess. Gavriil had insisted on babysitting her, which was driving her insane.

A man came to talk to Gavriil as Dove and I stood off to the side so she could complain about him hovering over her. She didn’t think it was as funny as I did though, her fingers typing faster than ever about how he was the Devil.

When the man with Gavriil rolled up his sleeves, all my attention focused on the tattoo on his arm. It looked similar to the design on the coin the dead man had given me.

As soon as the man left, I asked Gavriil what his tattoo meant. He quirked his eyebrow at my tone, but told me it was a family coat of arms—a group of symbols dating back to medieval Europe that reflected a family’s descent and alliances, among other things.

My thoughts raced as I tried to figure out what it all meant. Why would the dead man give me a coin with a coat of arms on it? What had he been trying to tell me? I nibbled on my bottom lip, cursing myself for not telling Kreos about it. It was too late now, though. I didn’t want to face any type of punishment he would force on me for lying to him.

I lost sight of Kreos for a while and went to the back bar area to grab a drink. I surveyed the crowd looking for him, and my eyes landed on the dark-haired woman. Obviously she was beautiful and sophisticated—polished was more like it. If I had to take a guess atwho was a mafia princess in this room, all my money would be on her. She’d probably be a better match for him. When my gaze clashed with hers, I found her glaring at me, and I let my smile drop from my face. She was lucky I didn’t have a place to hide my knife in this fancy dress, otherwise I might stab her in the eye.

“Now that is an excellent resting bitch face.”

I startled as a petite woman with curly dark hair stood next to me. She looked about my age, and had the same eyes as Kreos, except less threatening. She took a sip of her champagne, her gaze traveling around the room.

“Thanks. I’ve been practicing for twenty-five years.”

She chuckled and held out her hand to me. “I’m Bela Zokrov. Your new sister-in-law.”

“Alora.” I shook her hand, noting the firm grip. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Likewise. I hear you’re keeping Kreos on his toes?”

“Well, he’s practically kidnapped me and forced me into marriage, so”—I shrugged my shoulders—“can’t take it too easy on him.”

She chuckled, the sound light. “My brother can be extreme, but his heart is in the right place. He protects what’s his with a ferocity that can seem cruel, but it’s done out of love. I should know.”

---