Page 29 of Bratva's Innocent Obsession
He’s the Kingpin of Harlesden, and no less powerful than Maxim or Feliks. If he wanted to see me, he would.
It hurts that he doesn’t.
13
KON
I thought I could let her go, for her sake.
Turns out, that’s a lie. I’m selfish, and obsessed, and I need to see Taylor more than I need air.
Thankfully, I can compromise on the watching beingonesided.
14
TAYLOR
The first time I see Kon again is at Hayley’s wedding, about a month after I return home.
Payton and I are the Maids of Honour, and I tease her that she’s a matron now that she’s married too. I am very much the odd sister out, though they insist I’m not.
I spot him in the crowd as soon as I step into the church with my sisters, the organ playing. There are flowers on every surface, and Payton and I are wearing matching but not identical dresses. And amongst the sea of faces—mostly the London Maths Club, who have been so kind to us as newcomers—my eyes immediately single-out Kon.
He’s in a dark grey-blue suit with a waistcoat, and his pale-blue shirt is almost the same colour as Payton and my dresses.
And his eyes. It’s ice-blue like his eyes.
As I walk up the aisle, his gaze doesn’t leave me.
Even as everyone else switches—rightly—to admire Hayley, who looks amazing, his attention remains on me.
I smile, because that’s what you do at a wedding, but Kon doesn’t. He’s so serious.
And maybe it’s wishful thinking, but throughout the gorgeous ceremony where Hayley and Maxim make promises toeach other, and there are poems about love, I feel Kon’s gaze on me. When I sneak a look over my shoulder, my eyes find his immediately.
I’m warm all over, despite the cold of the stone church and my thin satin dress.
I can’t speak with him, of course.
I follow the happy couple back down the aisle, laugh as I throw rose petals over them, and then we pose for photographs. My cheeks ache from smiling, but part of my smile is for the thought that maybe I could find a way to talk to Kon today. If he wants to. We sit at either end of the huge horseshoe-shaped tables for the meal. I’m between my sisters in the middle, and he’s right at the end of one arm.
I’m opposite the kingpin of Canary Wharf’s wife, Adi, and the conversation thankfully doesn’t need anything from me, since I’m peeking around heads to see Kon.
We’re all drinking fancy fizzy non-alcoholic drinks because Payton and Hayley are hoping they’re pregnant, Adi is three months pregnant, and I don’t feel right downing champagne on my own. My decisions cannot be trusted, after all.
Though honestly, my stomach has been so sensitive since I arrived back in England, I wouldn’t risk it anyway. Must be the change in diet. I’ve been sick repeatedly, like my fussy tummy is refusing to adapt to English food.
“You had a baby last year?” Payton asks Adi, eyes wide.
“He was only very little,” Canary Wharf says innocently.
“Nine pounds is not little!” Adi giggles, and I join in when Hayley and Payton laugh too, although I really don’t know. I haven’t been doing the research they have. How heavy is nine pounds?
“It is given the amount of stuff the baby has. Every luxury. Blankets, clothing, breastfeeding,” Canary Wharf says dryly.
“Don’t listen to him.” Adi rolls her eyes fondly. “He spoils all the kids rotten. He has an app to keep an eye on them from the office, even though the nanny promises she’ll video call if they do anything cute while we’re both out.”
“Basic security,” Canary Wharf mutters and digs into his food.
