Page 8 of Savage Beauty

But with Josie gone and no reason to decline, I reluctantly agreed to the arrangement. It was supposed to ease tensions and appease the family, after all.

I fiddle with a corkscrew as I explain. “I didn’t exactly plan it. But her scumbag of a fiancé hurt her right in front of me, and I...reacted.”

“By which you mean he’s dead.” Vlad massages his temples with his fingertips. “I knew you only agreed to marry Claudia because you’d missed your chance with Josie. I didn’t expect you to be so stupid as to formally accept the match only to fucking take another wife first.” He throws his hands in the air. “I mean, what the fuck do you want from me, Sasha? I can’t make this go away. Tosca will be livid, and with good reason.”

“You married a civilian,” I say. “That’s what pissed off our rivals and allies. The richest plum we had to offer was you, and you gave yourself to Morgana. I’m not saying you were wrong, but it’s no wonder other mob families feel slighted.”

“Oh, right.” Vlad folds his arms and leans against the wall. “And I’m sure your impulsive Vegas wedding to a drunk girl, after you agreed to wed a mafia princess and ease tensions, will do wonders to improve matters. Thanks.”

“Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit, you know.”

“I swear I’m gonna break your fucking jaw any second.” Vlad glares at me and sighs. “You are going to apologize like a whipped dog, and I’ll arrange to have your marriage annulled.”

I don’t know why I married Josie. But there’s no way I’m backing down now, not when I have the perfect excuse to keep her.

“Vladi, I’ll say this once, and I don’t care if it earns me a punch,” I declare firmly. “Josie was miserable. Her fiancé was an abusive monster, and if I hadn’t intervened, she would have condemned herself to a life of misery. You understand that, right?”

Vlad is still seething, but his expression softens slightly. I know damn well he can relate; he reacted in much the same way when his own beloved wife was in trouble.

“So what’s the plan?” he asks wearily. “Tell me you have one.”

“I can’t let her go. Divorced, annulled, it’d make no difference. Tosca would have her killed just to satisfy the insult. As my wife, she’s entitled to our protection.”

“What does Josie think about all this?” Vlad asks, pulling a bottle of Côte du Rhone from the rack. “I can’t believe she agreed to it.”

“She doesn’t remember.”

Vlad wheels around. “What the hell do you mean?”

“When I say she was drunk, I mean blackout drunk,” I say. “She knows I killed Bonneville, but she doesn’t remember that we went to the twenty-four-hour chapel and moved the wedding up. She was supposed to marry Bonneville there at noon today, but she ended up marrying me instead at around three-thirty in the morning.” I smile. “She won’t be happy, but I’m ecstatic about it.”

Vlad thrusts three bottles of wine into my hands. “You fuckingidiot,” he says. “I was worried about Tosca’s reaction, but wait until Josie realizes what you’ve done. I don’t know who I’d rather take on.”

6

Josie

Morgana quickly clears the people out of the kitchen—a pregnant woman is a force of nature, and no one argues with her. Now we’re sitting in the breakfast nook as I try to understand what’s happening.

“Sasha’s engaged?” My voice trembles as Morgana hands me a glass of water, but my hand shakes so much that I have to set it down. “What the hell?”

“A mafia family demanded a display of good faith from the Kislevs,” Morgana explains calmly. “Vladi was expected to marry a mob princess, and most of our rivals and associates accepted it gracefully when he married me instead. But the Toscas didn’t take it so well. When Sal Tosca wanted Sasha for his daughter, Vlad floated the idea, and to everyone’s surprise, Sasha agreed.”

Wow. The eternal playboy, ready to settle down? And here I was, foolishly believing he might be getting all protective of me because he had unresolved feelings. Maybe he’s just toying with me while he still can.

“I couldn’t have imagined Sasha ever getting married,” I remark, sipping my water. “He did that just for the family?”

“He said it was to prevent the bratva from going to war over something so trivial,” Morgana replies with a sigh. “Vladi believes that Sal Tosca was just looking for an excuse to pick a fight. He disapproves of Vladi’s management style.”

Figures. Vladi may not be one to trifle with, but he’s far less volatile than his late father, Sergey. On the other hand, Sasha seems to have inherited that impulsivity and embraced it with gusto. It makes him a formidable enforcer; he doesn’t hesitate to do what needs to be done.

Just as I’m about to inquire further about Claudia Tosca, the man himself, Sasha, enters the kitchen. Our eyes lock momentarily, and Morgana takes her cue, heading for the door.

“I’m leaving,” she announces, poking Sasha in the chest with her finger, “so you can explain yourself. I don’t know what you’re going to say, but it better be good.”

“Believe me,” Sasha mutters, “it isn’t. If you think you’re pissed at me now, go find Vlad. He has the full story.”

Morgana glares at him before casting a fleeting smile in my direction. Then she’s gone.

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