Page 10 of Kneeling for Daddy
“According to the State of New York,” Ralston answers, already putting on his judicial robe, “we’re all done here.”
“Good,” Ani huffs. “I have an appointment at Bergdorf Goodman.” Crossing her arms, she turns on her heel and walks with purpose into the hallway. I follow behind, my eyes focused on the gentle sway of her tight ass with every heavy, defiant step she takes.
It takes about three seconds for my brain to catch up. “What the hell? An appointment?”
“She’s going shopping,” Alek shares, like he’s announcing the weather.
“She’swhat?”
“Shopping,” he repeats like I didn’t actually hear him, still smiling like this is a perfectly normal thing for a brand-new bride to do. “Part of our arrangement. I’ll see to it that she heads your way afterward.”
Without another word, he strolls toward the exit, leaving me standing there with my figurative dick in my hand.
“Congratulations,” Enzo chirps, his voice dripping with amusement as Ani storms through the door and into the alley. “You’re officially a married man.”
“Don’t remind me.”
Cillian, ever the diplomat, adds, “It could be worse.”
I shoot him an inquisitive look and snarl, “Name one way.”
“You could’ve been forced to marry someone you actually dislike.”
I bark out a humorless laugh. “You think Ilikeher?”
Cillian smirks. “Your tone and words might say no, but your eyes definitely say otherwise.”
I don’t dignify Cillian’s quip with a response as we cross the lobby, the sound of our footsteps echoing through the wide space. The three of us step into the alley just in time to see Ani slide into the backseat of Alek’s Suburban. Our eyes meet for a second, and there’s an awkwardness in our stare that catches me by surprise. The door shuts with a heavy thud, suddenly separating us. She’s angled toward the window, watching me intently as they pull away from the courthouse.
Enzo and Cillian head toward my SUV as I watch my new bride drive off toward Fifth Avenue.
Shopping…
Fine…
It’s not like I planned on going home and consummating this fraud of a marriage. At least this little temper-tantrum isn’t going to be on my dime. I know she is just making a point—showing me that she is her own person and that she doesn’t answer to me.
Cute, butshe’s wrong.
I don’t give a shit how long she’s gone as long as she shows up when she’s supposed to, I lie to myself as I climb behind the wheel of my Range Rover and make the short drive home.
By the time the sun starts sinking behind the city skyline, I’ve spent hours trying to convince myself that I’m unfazed by her bratty behavior and wondering how the fuck it’s possible to shop this long. I concluded my afternoon making room for Ani’s things throughout the apartment—the closet, multiple drawers in the dresser, and vanity space in the bathroom. A small gesture of goodwill, as Madison insisted, in an attempt to make this less torturous for both of us.
Now sitting on the terrace of Cillian’s penthouse, I have glass of vodka sweating in my hand from the summer heat and the Manhattan skyline glittering in the distance. Cillian is leaning back in his chair, Madison curled into his side with something pale and fizzy in her glass. Across from me, Enzo and Eavan are talking low, their heads close together. It’s comfortable and routine. Itshouldbe relaxing, but my brain keeps circling backto Bergdorf Goodman and the fact that Alekstillhasn’t delivered his sister—my wife—even though they closed about an hour ago.
Pacing the edge of the terrace, I take a long drag on my cigarette. I flick it over the edge of the terrace and exhale through my nostrils. I lift the near empty glass to my lips, swallowing down the last of my vodka. The clear liquid burns as it spills down my throat. As I swirl the melted ice in the now-empty crystal tumbler, I grumble, “So… anyone want to tell me what the hell I’ve gotten myself into?”
Enzo grins like he’s been waiting all fucking day for this question. “A marriage of convenience, brother. Emphasis on theconvenience.”
“Convenient for who?” I mutter. “Because so far, everything has been aninconvenience.”
Eavan doesn’t even look up from her seltzer as she lightly chuckles, “Everyone but you.”
“Don’t worry, Nik.” Madison stands and reaches for my empty glass. Taking it from my hand, she teases like my misery is some kind of entertainment. “She’ll come home soon enough, and then you can spend the night showing her what a man you actually are.”
“Jesus fucking Christ,” I snarl, abruptly rising to my feet and swiping the glass back from Madison as I glare at my brothers. “Is nothing fucking sacred to the two of you?”
“Lighten up,” Enzo calls after me between laughs as I cross the terrace to refill my drink.
