Page 36 of Devious Kingpin
“Her mother is probably turning in her grave. I remember when Juliette was born. My best friend and his wife vowed they’d throw her a big Irish wedding.”
“They did?” she questioned, surprised. Liam nodded. “They aren’t here, Dad,” Juliette reasoned. She kept herself together but I noted her hands trembling. What in the fuck was going on? “So let’s leave the Irish wedding for some other time and all just move on.”
“I agree,” I chimed in. “We’ll do what Juliette’s most comfortable with.” Ironic considering how I trapped my wife.
Liam sighed. “Okay, we’ll leave off the Irish wedding, but we’ll do the proper wedding. Tomorrow.”
Juliette let out a frustrated breath, her eyes flashing with annoyance. “It isn’t like this was a dream match or anything. The two of us got drunk and had an unoriginal idea to get hitched. A mistake. Nothing more; nothing less.”
I gritted my teeth while bitter amusement filled me. This dark-haired woman was all I’d been thinking about and she was calling this a mistake. I let out a sardonic breath. She was put on this earth for me and only me, so I’d show her how perfect of a match we were.
And with that, I wrapped my arm around her waist and pulled her closer to me, tightening my grip around her.
“Tomorrow. Formal. Wedding.” Liam’s tone made it clear it was non-negotiable. Then, just in case he didn’t get his point across, he added, “That’s final. We already finalized the idea with the guests.”
“So good to know it’s about what I want,” Juliette said. “Aye, aye, Captain, we’ll be there.” Her eyes held something dark when she turned to me. “Right, husband?”
“Correct, wife.”
Something was off about her, I just couldn’t put my finger on it.
CHAPTER17
Juliette
This was what they called shit backfiring in your face.
Wynter, Davina, and Ivy gushed over the wedding preparations while I stood there, barely keeping it together. My fingernails dug into my palms while I desperately held on to my composure.
For everyone, it was where Dante and I were always meant to end up. For me, it brought a different kind of worry.
The wedding night.
I survived it last night, but then I couldn’t remember much of it. Maybe it had been as horrific as that night all those years ago, only I had no real way of knowing. A cold shiver rolled down my spine each time I thought about it. My breathing hitched and terror spread through my veins. Some would say it served me right. I taunted and mocked, acting tough, and now I wanted to crawl into a hole and hide.
“What’s going on?” Ivy asked under her breath. “You’re walking around like a zombie. It’s Emory’s party and you’re acting like it’s a funeral.”
I met her gaze, but nothing but mild curiosity met me. Even she didn’t know of my demons. She didn’t know me back then. Wynter and I met Davina and Ivy in college, but Wynter also had no idea about that night.
My ears buzzed, fear pushing adrenaline through my bloodstream and making it hard to breathe.
“She’s probably upset that Dante finally got her,” Wynter attempted, easing pliable tension with a joke. She was wrong. It was so much worse than just that. There was a reason I never went past a certain point with a boy. It brought ghosts and terror back with a vengeance.
Davina gripped my hand hard. “I know you’re upset,” she murmured. “Liam insisted on a more formal wedding tomorrow. I tried to dissuade him, but you know how stubborn he gets.” I nodded. I knew my father’s stubbornness very well, even though we didn’t share any genetics. There was nothing anyone could say to stop him when that man made up his mind.
I swallowed while my heart thundered in an erratic rhythm in my chest. My stomach revolted at what was to come, and I pressed my palm against it. At this rate, I’d stroke out before tomorrow. I had to calm down.
I could get through this. Many had gone through much worse and survived. My eyes flickered to Alexei Nikolaev who stood alongside his wife. He’d survived unspeakable horrors.
His arctic-blue eyes met mine for the briefest moment. It was hard not to feel fear when that man focused on you. You never knew whether he was planning on killing you or just extracting all your secrets out.
I forced a smile, then returned my attention to my girlfriends.
“So who’s getting me a wedding dress?” I asked, my voice slightly higher pitched.
My best friends weren’t fooled but they decided to play along. The next thirty minutes were spent talking about readily available designer dresses to choose from in Nevada.
All the while my mind worked on the next man I’d hunt down and torture. I had another name—Jovanov Plotnick. He was present the night my birth parents were murdered.
