Page 33 of Vicious Heir

Except something keeps itching down my spine. I want her here, right next to me, where I can make sure she’s safe.

That fucker Demir got under my skin, which is probably exactly what he wanted when he approached earlier.

A steady stream of Capos, made men, and society people stop by to congratulate me. I shake hands, exchange pleasantries and business cards, and do my best to be professional.

All the while, I’m smoldering inside.

“You look like you need a break,” Lev says, grinning like this is the most fun he’s had in forever. Knowing that crazy Russian, it probably is.

“What I need is another drink.” I gesture for more whiskey. It’s good, but not as good as that hundred-year stuff Bianca swindled from me earlier. “Has anyone seen Lucille?”

“I can go find her if you want,” Luca offers.

But before I can tell him to do it, Bianca comes hustling through the crowd. She’s saying something into a headset, her expression grim. “We need you,” she says. When I don’t react, she nudges my shoulder. “Right now.”

“I didn’t realize you were talking to me.”

“Hilarious. It’s time for your first dance.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Don’t be difficult,” she says through her teeth. “Get your ass up.”

I’m about to tell her off, but I stop myself. First dance means I’ll be with Lucy. And if she’s in my arms, nothing can touch her.

Reluctantly, I get up. Bianca seems surprised that I’m not fighting harder.

“Well? Let’s fucking get this over with.”

“Good luck, big guy,” Lev says pleasantly. “Have fun.”

I ignore him and follow my sister toward the dance floor. My head’s a buzz of conflicting emotions. I’m thinking of my father in his wheelchair. I’m thinking of the same wheelchair waiting for me. I’m thinking of a family, of children, of Demir and his threats, of that lying witch Helena Willing-Morris.

But all that leaves my head when I spot my wife waiting for me all alone.

Fuck. She’s perfect.

There are beautiful flowers on every table. Streams of expensive lights dangle from the ceiling. Real cut crystal glasses are passed around. The room is the definition of gorgeous opulence.

It all pales compared to her.

Lucy’s immaculate. She’s small, almost dainty. The little strands of extra hair frame her pretty face. Her big eyes stare into mine, almost defiant. I think of her mouth wrapped around my dick, her spit dangling down toward the floor.

“Let’s get this over with,” she murmurs as I take her into my arms.

“You in a rush to go somewhere?” I mutter back.

The song starts. It’s “At Last” by Etta James. I glance over at my sister and she’s watching with a scowl as she barks into her headset. I’m sure she picked the music.

“Just looking forward to the rest of my life, that’s all.”

I tug Lucy closer. She yelps slightly with surprise as our bodies press together. “And here I am, only looking forward to tonight.”

Her cheeks turn pink as she stares down at the floor. “Don’t talk like that right now.”

“What? You don’t want me to embarrass you?”

“Not in front of these people. They’re all just waiting for me to screw up.”

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