“Sasha, shut the fuck up,” Vasili warned his brother. Sasha had a damn knack for grating people when they were at their worst.

“We are just exchanging numbers,” Sasha said with a grin. “Let me write down my personal cell-”

And I lost my shit. My hand wrapped around Sasha’s neck, lifting him off the ground. The fucking dude wasn’t a small guy either.

“She’s my wife,” I gritted between my teeth. “You won’t be texting with her.”

Bianca’s small fists hit my back. “Put him down, you brute.”

I ignored her and squeezed harder. Her defending him made me even more pissed off.

“Alexei, won’t you help your brother?” Isabella Nikolaev muttered.

“Bella, I told you to remain inside,” Vasili scolded her. She must have been worried about her husband and found her way back out much to his dismay. What was it with these women that just didn’t listen?

I didn’t want to end my wedding day on an even shittier note than it started, but if I have to, I’d fucking fight them all. Nobody would flirt or touch my wife. Otherwise, we’d have a bloody wedding day.

“Alexei!” Isabella scolded.

“Nah, I’m good,” Alexei replied. “This is kind of fun.”

“Raphael, please help Sasha,” Isabella begged.

“If you successfully kill Nico, you can have all his money,” Bianca chimed in, her little fists on my back felt like a massage.

“Don’t even think about it, Raphael,” I told him, then narrowed my eyes on the pissed off beauty in front of me. “We just got married, wife, and already contemplating killing me? How you wound me,” I mocked and she scoffed. “Can you move to the left and hit the spot there, Cara Mia? I love the rough massage.”

She immediately stopped and pulled her hands away from me. I turned my head her way, needing to see her. Her hurt expression hit me straight in my chest. It didn’t take a genius to know today wasn’t the best day of her life. Not that I expected it to be but it turned out even worse.

“How could you?” she asked.

“How could I what?” I replied, though I had a suspicion I knew.

“You invited my mother and that man?” she rasped. “You knew she was Benito’s-” She couldn’t finish the sentence. “Your dad said something about revenge. Is that it?”

I should have known my father would try to stir some shit.

“I didn’t invite your mother nor Benito King,” I told her, and it wasn’t a lie. “I did suspect they’d come.”

“How?”

“Jenna Palermo alerted him,” I confessed, locking eyes with her. It was important to me that she believed me, at least in this. “When you told me about her and William, I started digging and found out she was the connection that fed Benito information. About you and William. It was the reason I moved up the wedding.”

Disappointment shone in her eyes, and I knew without a doubt, she was thinking about our earlier conversation. No more surprises. But this was another one.

“You are wrong on so many levels,” she mustered sadly “I’m going in the house.”

She turned around, not sparing me nor Sasha another glance, while he still hung up in the air, gripping at my hand.

I let go of him and he landed on his feet, gasping for air.

Isabella shook her head, giving us all a glare. I guess she wasn’t happy nobody would step in to save her brother-in-law. It was my wedding after all; the groom was always right on his wedding day. Right?

My wife would disagree. I fucked up big time on my wedding day.

“Wait, Bianca. I’ll come with you,” Isabella called after her. My wife turned and waited for Isabella. The latter was pregnant so when they resumed walking, Bianca slowed down her pace. That was her - thoughtful and caring. For Christ’s sake, she even apologized to Bear for calling him scary.

“I knew you’d listen eventually,” I told my wife. She never even turned around, just flipped me the bird over her head.