Page 161 of Villainous Kingpin
“I don’t think that’s the first time those two have danced to that song,” Dante said as he shifted back on his heel, his hands in his pockets.
Wynter and Sasha started lip-synching to Jaymes Young “Don’t You Know” both smiling, like this was their own goddamn wedding. I left my cousins and sister standing there and headed for Sasha and my wife.
Sasha’s eyes darted to me and they darkened a bit. The cold, calculating bastard that he was, he drawled, “You know I love you, Wyn.”
“Love you too, Sasha.”
Burning fury burned through me and it took all my willpower not to pull out my gun and shoot the motherfucker. It simmered under my skin, making me want to lash out at all of the Nikolaev men.
“Sasha, let Wynter dance with her husband,” Vasili, his brother, said, his tone cold and annoying, heavy with their Russian accent. Brennan insisted they be invited and now I regretted it. I’d much rather kill them.
“Only if she wants to,” Sasha retorted, eyeing me like he was ready for a fight.
I shifted forward but Wynter dropped his hand immediately, while Vasili grabbed his younger brother and tugged him along to his table, hissing something in their heathen language.
I quickly took Wynter’s hand and made her dance the rest of the song with me.
“You really have to calm down,” she remarked with a heavy sigh.
“Then stop dancing with other men,” I warned.
She rolled her eyes. Fucking rolled her eyes at me!
“You used to be more fun,” she muttered and then as if she realized she slipped, her eyes snapped to mine.
A lazy smile curved on my lips. “The last time we danced I had to beat up another man for touching what was mine. Maybe I need to up my game,” I drawled.
“Don’t hurt Sasha,” she warned, and it fucking annoyed me she would care whether he was hurt or not.
“Time to throw the garter!” Dante shouted and both of us turned our heads to find Juliette glaring at Dante. My cousin grinned at her, like he was ready to devour her. He’d had a fascination with her ever since she kneed him in the balls. You’d think it would have the opposite effect, considering how much that shit hurt. But no, my unhinged cousin took it as his own personal challenge.
The crowd circled us and someone brought over a chair. I sat her down, then hunched down and cocked my eyebrow at my wife. She sat there, her eyes frozen above my head, and her hands clutching her dress so hard, her knuckles turned white.
I followed her gaze and found it on my father. Where in the fuck had he come from? My eyes found Priest and Dante, the two nodded and surrounded him. To my surprise so did Sasha who looked ready to pounce on him.
And all the while, my father was grinning and his eyes were locked on my wife.
“When will we see bloodied sheets?” my father exclaimed and Wynter flinched, then narrowed her eyes on him. Sasha growled and Brennan reached for his gun. Wynter’s mother paled and my uncle, of all people, found himself next to her and shielding her body with his.
“You haven’t heard,” Wynter said, tilting her chin up and giving him a proud smile. My father couldn’t see Wynter’s hands curled into a fist on her white dress because I hindered his view. “He popped that cherry a while back.” Someone started choking behind us, but I didn’t turn to see who, keeping my gaze locked on my father. “The only blood you’ll see tonight might belong to a DiLustro.”
Atta woman,I thought proudly.
A deadly quiet filled the chilled air and guests stilled, every man shielding their own family with their hands on their guns. The tension was louder than an explosion, and the anger burned my chest. My fingers twitched with the need to pull out my gun and shoot the motherfucker, consequences be damned.
The only thing that stopped me was Wynter. I felt her tremble under my touch and I didn’t want to cause her more distress.
My uncle nodded at Brennan, then moved towards his older brother. I followed the two of them, my uncle ushering my father into the house, and I didn’t turn my back to them until my father disappeared from view.
Wynter watched them too and the look in her eyes was haunting. It tore at my black heart.
“Principessa,” I murmured softly and her eyes lowered to me. Slowly the tension in her shoulders eased, but the anguish still lingered in those green depths. That talk she promised me had to happen.Pronto. “Just watchme,” I told her and she nodded.
I cupped her calves, her skin soft and warm under my rough palms. She went to lift her gown but I stopped her. “I’ll find it,” I rasped.
Gently, I slipped off her heel and our first date flickered to the forefront. When our eyes met, I knew she thought of it too. That day in Emilia’s shop. The first kill I did for her; it wasn’t the last.
I slid my palms up slowly until I reached her thighs. I could feel goosebumps on her skin, a little tremor rolling down her body. But she held my gaze, as if she found strength in it. I reached higher and higher, until my fingers brushed her garter on her right leg. I lifted her dress, just enough to put my head underneath it, my face against her soft skin.
