Page 18 of The Bratva's Christmas Bump
Rex snorts out a laugh. “Sure. Alright, give me the details.”
Turning to face him, the corner of my mouth twitches. “You remember the girl from the bar a few months ago? The one in the silver dress?”
Rex frowns as he searches his memories, then he half nods. “Vaguely. From your description more than anything else.”
“That’s her.”
“What?” His brow jumps up to his hairline. “Jesus… Maxim.”
“I know. I know what it looks like. We never run into the same person twice in this line of work without it being a death sentence, but I believe her. This is just a really bad night.”
His eyes narrow and his mouth twists but Rex doesn’t speak. Instead he sighs. “Alright, so that’s what we’re going with? You two met a few months ago at a bar and the love blossomed from there? She’s just very spicy and very angry at you.”
“It’s also only half a lie which means even if he does go digging, Dad will find shit to back it up.”
Rex puffs out his cheeks and rubs one hand up and down his torso. “I hope she understands what you’re doing for her.”
“Nah. Less she knows, the better, for her and her family. She hates me. Understandable. Thinks I’m a murderer.”
“You are.”
I send him a withering glare. “Sure, but what she saw and what actually happened are two different truths.”
“Then tell her.”
“Did you hear what she did at the club? I’m not giving her more information to spout to anyone who will listen. It’s one thing to have her begging for help when she thinks I’m a killer, but if she started giving out details? I’d become the Mafia prince with a loud-mouthed wife, and she’d become a bigger target while making me look like a fucking fool.”
“You’re already a fool.” Rex snorts. “But I understand.”
“Thanks. You have my back on this, right?”
Rex is momentarily offended. “Dude. Did you not hear me?”
“Alright,” I scoff softly, amused. “Just checking.”
“Just checking,” Rex mimics with open mockery. “Fucking hell.”
“Boss?” Toto’s voice joins the fray, and we turn to him in the doorway. “They’re ready for you.”
“Alright!” Rex slings his arm around my neck and drags me back into the chapel. “Let’s get married!”
Inside, there are no fancy seats or pews, no aisle for anyone to walk down. This late at night and on such short notice, there’s only the officiant standing next to his makeshift altar looking half asleep. Next to him stands Stu who has his gaze fixed on Hollie.
Thanks to Xena’s magic, she’s been poured into the costume provided and despite the pain of the situation, she looks absolutely beautiful.
The bra is adorned with diamonds and pearls, featuring a string of diamonds that loops up around her neck to create a sparkling choker. Strings of pears and diamonds pour down from her breasts and across her abdomen to connect to the absolutely tiny white mini skirt that’s really more of a thick belt than a skirt. Walking up from behind, I fight to keep my gaze away from the alluring swell of her ass cheeks peeking out from underneath. Sheer white stockings connect to a glittering garter, hugging her shapely legs all the way down to where her feet are covered by white six-inch heels.
Guilt warms my abdomen so as soon as I’m close enough, I shrug my suit jacket off and drape it around her shoulders. She flinches at the contact and fixes me with a venom-filled glance, but she doesn’t refuse the cover-up.
“We’ll only need you in the full thing for the pictures,” I say in a low voice as I stop next to her.
“Whatever,” she hisses out of the corner of her mouth. “Get this over with.”
It’s not how I envisioned my wedding would happen. I always dreamed of meeting someone who could look past the intimidation of my size, my bulk, my accent, and my family and fall in love with me. The real me. Then we’d have a small, beautiful wedding at a country house surrounded by color and nature.
Here, the most colorful thing is Xena’s outfit as she stands just behind me with two other girls from the club alongside Rex and Toto.
The officiant is being paid too much to care about any of this and quickly reels through the traditional vows like he’s reading off a shopping list. There’s no romance, there’s no warmth or love in his words or Hollie’s as she flatly repeats what she’s asked to say. I try to meet her eye, clinging to a small hope that she will understand I’m doing this to help her, but she refuses to look at me. Her anger burns as hot as embers in her words and at one point, she looks like she’s contemplating making a break for it.
