Chapter 4

FOUR

ASA

Stuffy and cluttered. And smells old, too, like ancient dust from the graveyard visible from the open back windows letting in a summer breeze. Don’t these fucks use air conditioning? My sweaty T-shirt clings to my back as I lean forward in the uncomfortable, gaudy chair. The bear stares me down with what could only be described as disdain. Deep brown eyes narrow at me.

Neither of us has spoken for a good minute. Maybe two.

I’d rather do this at my office, but he said he “didn’t feel comfortable” after he busted into my joint like he owned the place and got shown up. What a wuss. Always was.

There was one time when we were kids that he cried like a baby when he got stung by Yellow Jackets. Livia had to help him out. Sometimes I still think about his swollen face, tears streaming down his cheeks as he ran screaming and dove into the pond while I laughed my ass off.

Sniffing, my nose almost drips onto my shorts, but I catch it before it does. It’s been two days since I had coke. Not that I miss it. It’s expensive as fuck and the boys burned through the last batch like it was melting snow. No, that’s not that bad. Not compared to the throb in my head from not getting my dick sucked in six days, eighteen hours, and thirty-seven seconds.

I can’t do this anymore.

It’s been years since I had to jerk off, and I shouldn’t have to start doing it now at almost thirty years old. My new wife better be ready for those duties in about seven hours after her precious wedding she insisted we hold. The empress has her brother wrapped around her finger, from what I can tell. Though I only saw her twice. Once at the courthouse where we didn’t speak. And another at the Freidenberg manor, but I was too busy trying to kill Cal to pay attention to her then.

A frustrated sigh spears through my nostrils quickly before I wipe the perspiration off my forehead, using it to style my hair back into place. “Are you gonna fucking speak or what?”

“Listen to me, and listen good, you prick.” Max sits back in his chair and taps the legal pad on his old-ass mahogany desk with one index finger like he’s a principal and I’m in detention. “You will not treat my sister badly. If I hear a word from her about ill conditions, I’ll rip you limb from limb. Won’t even bother to make it look like an accident.” Picking up his hand, he shoves the disciplinary digit toward my face. “No boozing. And no drugs. That means you don’t cheat, either. No other women, Asa. My sister is gold, and you should treat her as such.”

“No, thanks. I’ll leave the pussy whip for you. Livia’s got such a stranglehold on your dick, you probably can’t take a piss without it coming out in two streams.” With my retort, he stands and leans over the desk like he’s gonna hit me. He could try… Wish my guys were here with me, but part of the deal was I had to come alone.

“You’re broke. Your name is a fucking joke around here. If you want Freidenberg cash and weapons, you’ll be a good husband to her.” He clears his throat and lowers his voice. “Your mother and father would have wanted that for you.”

I jerk up to a stand, ready to strike. “Fuck you. Don’t mention my family.”

“Well, you and I are already family, Asa.” Relaxing his shoulders, he sits back in his seat, kicking up his feet on the desk all at ease. “You’re my brother-in-law.” As he busies himself with some papers, he barely gives me a glance, and finishes with, “See you at the wedding.”

Picking up an ancient crystal ashtray nearby, I chuck it at his marble fireplace, making it shatter, then turn and throw open his office door, hightailing out with a pounding stride as his old butler hurries past me to find out what the commotion was.

Gold melts at a high enough temperature.

I know this because I lost my parents’ wedding bands in a poker match three years ago to Nicky Raine. Shark’s guys melted them right in front of me just to prove what an asshole he was.

After all the family jewels were gone, I started hocking art, then furniture. The only thing I didn’t touch was Ashley’s bedroom, which my mother kept as a shrine with some delusion that my sister would walk back through the front door one day like nothing happened. Dad tried to comfort her by encouraging it, too. But I knew. I was the only one who understood.

Ashley was never coming back.

But after she was gone, I faded into a ghost, not her. Without even doing anything of her own merit, she became the once-and-for-all favorite child. I had no shot for any attention after, and despite being the firstborn and a son, I was forgotten. It was over for me the day they got her mangled body back, delivered on our front lawn like a sack of meat thrown from the back of a truck.

That was the day Asa Donovan ceased to exist. And the only way I knew I was alive was because of the pain.

When I was twenty, someone shot both my parents in the head and left their bloody bodies lying on the family graves next to the Crimson Angel. It was then I decided I’d never set foot in the tomb of my family home again. It’s cursed. Haven’t been back since.

Through our lawyers, the empress of the Freidenberg clan demanded a wedding and even suggested my parents’ house. But she’d have to have it at the casino. There was no way I was venturing into a portal back to my own personal hell. It’s my household she’s coming into, and I live in the penthouse. She’ll just have to deal.

Fuck, I hadn’t even thought about where she’d put all her stupid girl shit. Hopefully, Kline dealt with that.

In the VIP lounge in the back room, the tailor fixes some last-minute touchups to my white tux as Cass helps straighten my ascot. I didn’t give a shit about the rest of the wedding preparation as long as it was at the White Wolf Lodge, and I got to pick out my Armani suit. White, of course.

“Whelp…I’m sure the triplets won’t care that you’re married.” Cass steals a glance at me before returning his focus to the silk around my neck.

Staring into the mirror, my lips tighten into a line. “They already left me the last time ’cause Cal had to spoil it. Cindy won’t come over ’cause they won’t. I don’t know about the other girls.” With a peek up at the corner camera, I narrow an eyelid. “And I have a feeling Freidenberg’s fucks are probably watching who’s coming and going from the penthouse.”

He stands and places his hands on my shoulders. “You’re really not going to keep it as just our place? A bachelor pad? You’re letting her live there?”

“Letting is a bold term. I don’t know. She seems kinda prissy to me. Maybe she’ll want to live back home. I’ll just knock her up and she can live with her asshole of a brother.”

Taking a step back, Cass inspects me with a once-over as Dave leans against the far wall, finishing his cigarette. In his mumbled deep voice, he says, “So you’ve talked with her, then.”

I run my hands through my hair as I check out my image in the mirror. Everything is perfect. No speck of dust on the expensive fabric, and my shoes are polished to a mirror shine. Bitch wanted cream and gold roses to “combine our houses,” or so Kline told me. She forced Max to pay for someone to spray paint fucking roses and, like a sucker, he did. I tuck one into my lapel with disgust. “Who?”

“Uh…your wife. You’ve talked to her, then.”

“Nah, nah.” Grabbing my crotch, I give my dick a shake. “I only let this do my talking for me.” The guys chuckle, but there’s no mirth behind it. They must be feeling what I am, which is trapped. Like we’re losing something we thought we’d always have. Good times, fun, and freedom.

What I don’t want to tell them, what I never could admit, is that there’re these hopes I have. And maybe they’re stupid dreams, but what if…

Nah, I shouldn’t even think about it.

Well, what if we fall in love and have something special, like my parents did? What if she wants a big family and to have a home and she’s like my soulmate or some shit?

So ridiculous. Plus, it would be playing right into Max’s hands by treating her like royalty. Irritating him feels like my new goal in life, and if I treated his sister right, he’d enjoy it too much.

“Mr. Donovan, it’s time.” Kline sticks his weaselly little head through the door and taps on his wristwatch. Nodding at him, the guys down their drinks or snuff out their blunts and we all exit together. As a pack. Jinx tosses his arm around me and wipes his teary eyes with a thumb.

It feels like I’m on death row being led to the electric chair.

In the chapel, it seems everyone from East and South Side tried to squeeze in to see the main event. I don’t know most of these people, but there’s Livia sitting in the front row like a demigoddess, so full of herself that there’s no room for anyone else near her. Heard the Freidenbergs’ guards were dropping like flies. Dumb fuck stole from Zayne straight up, and his girlfriend had his men nail one of their main guards to the Freidenberg front door. At least that’s what Dash told me.

Why is this taking so long? There better be good champagne at the party. Ugh, I’d kill for some blow after this. Just gotta knock her up as soon as possible and then I can die. Hopefully, she’s not a prude. That’ll be a problem for my dick. It has needs.

Where is she anyway? Are we on her time now? Hoss makes some type of seal cough behind me, and I snap a look at him, but he just shrugs his shoulders.

Just when I’m about to walk out, the music starts up, and the doors at the back of the room fly open. There’s Max in a black tux and…

My heart literally stops beating, and sweat pours from my forehead. Closing my mouth from the gasp I just let out, my breathing returns in slow inhales at the vision of her.

The empress.

A tiara on top of her head drifting into some billowy, white veil covering her rich chocolate locks of hair that have been curled into gentle, feminine waves. As if her figure needed any help, her face is exquisite, eyes permanently molded into seductive shapes with a set of full, pouty lips. Her body… Almost biting my knuckle to keep from letting out a whimper of strain, my gaze drifts down every inch of her curves. A plump bosom nearly spills out of her strapless organza gown, which is covered in tiny flowers, and ends in a dramatically long train. Despite the puffiness of the skirt, her waist is tiny, and I’ve seen her hips and ass once before. It’s all I could think about when I did.

She’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Like someone just opened a gate to Heaven and she is the source of the light.

Waltzing eloquently up the aisle, her dark eyes crawl up my torso until they lock onto my face. Hers holds a question, but mine probably shows something like awe. When she nears the bottom step, I’ve forgotten about the whole show we’re supposed to do until the officiant clears his throat and I reach for her hand, taking it from Max.

With barely a glance at her brother, who narrows his bear eyes at me with a warning, I snag her cool palm in my warm one and help her rise to the top of the stage. A peppering of pink colors her cheeks as she stands before me, and now that she’s close, I can make out the color of her eyes. They aren’t that ugly flat brown, but the color of a solar eclipse on a sunny day. Shielded by long black lashes that aren’t even fake, but the real deal, and her ears catch my notice only because…they’re unadorned. It’s surprising. And refreshing in some odd way.

“Hi,” escapes me in a reverent whisper at the creature, hoping to not scare her away.

Ruddy lips part in a small smile as a breath huffs through them in a delicate laugh. “Hello.”

“Well, now that you’ve met, let’s begin the ceremony!” the officiant says, and I hear the audience erupt into guffaws, but my attention stays focused on her as if there’s nothing else that exists.

What does she drink in the mornings? Coffee? Tea?

Does she like all the lights on in the house?

Is she cold natured, want the heat on even in the summer? ’Cause I’m pretty hot, but maybe for her, I’d be willing to turn off the air conditioning.

Maybe.

“Sir?”

“What?” Suddenly, I realize the officiant has been talking to me and everyone laughs again.

“I asked, do you, Asa McClellend Donovan, take Arianna Bridgette Freidenberg to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

Her sparkling eyes dance to mine as I nod a reply, my voice ringing out firmly to her. “Yes, I do.”

“And do you, Arianna Bridgette Freidenberg, take Asa McClellend Donovan to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

Like a snare drum, my heart picks up with that hope rising. This could be it… But she looks down at the ground, then steals a glance at the audience. Her brother—no. Who the fuck is she looking at?

Oh, hell no. That douche from the garage is here and…wait a minute. She’s looking at him! This bitch is looking at him! Cal said something about a boyfriend. And there he is, sitting in my casino at my wedding like a fucking stone statue with some weird non-expression on his face. Gripping her hands tightly in my grasp, I refrain from jumping over the pews and pummeling the piece of shit.

With a few rapid blinks, the empress impresses me with her regard once again.

Ha! Fucker. I guess I’m taking your girl, then. Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve done it.

“I do.”

A heavy sigh of relief floods my chest as she speaks the words, her voice like a little bird’s floating through the air. I just wish she looked a bit happier about it. Meh, she will after tonight, I guess.

Shit. Now is not the time for a hard-on. But I bet her pussy smells divine and tastes like sunshine. The silky skin on the backs of her hands makes my thumb tingle with anticipation of what’s about to take place right after this. Maybe I don’t need the champagne. Hopefully, she’s ready to go, because the blood is currently leaving my brain and heading south.

“I now pronounce you Mr. and Mrs. Asa Donovan! You may kiss the bride!”

Without hesitation, I pull her close to my chest, her floral-scented breath riding into my mouth as I steal a quick look at that fucker in the audience.

Watch me steal your girlfriend, bitch.

With one arm wrapping around her tiny waist and the other tenderly cupping the back of her head, I lean in to get the first taste of my wife. Brushing my lips against her, she inhales quickly, her breasts rising between us. The hairs on the back of my neck prickle as I press my mouth into hers, my tongue easing inside her warm entrance, welcoming me.

I’m used to kissing. I’ve kissed a lot of women. But this feels completely different. Not the technique. Or the softness of her body against my hardness, or the way she opens for me so easily. It’s not even the absolute match the essence of her meets me in this moment.

All the desires for that dream I’ve held back for so long erupt out of my soul, venturing through me and into her. There’s no force involved. No resistance. In fact, it’s like we’re the same. I feel it in the way she moves her jaw with mine as her arms run over my biceps and we dance in sync to somewhere I’ve never traveled. This enchantress holds some secret power over me that no one ever has. And I feel her want it, want me, so I give it up willingly. Because what I want most in this world is here with her.

To be one with my wife.

To matter to someone and for someone to matter to me.

She’s the one.

And as if the Earth itself agrees, it begins to shake underneath our feet, rocking in sudden jolts as loud booms erupt in our ears. But I don’t stop kissing her, only tug her tighter to my chest. Into my protection. The heady blast of this realization causes me to feel somewhere between sober and intoxicated on her energy.

Only when plaster crumbles over our heads and the shrieks of terror interrupt my trance do I loosen myself from her, her eyes glossed over with a daze that matches my own.

The doors blow off the back of the room as the floor shudders, and I grab her, my little wife, toss her over my shoulder, and run until we hunker under the frame of the door to my lounge. We don’t get earthquakes here in Gnarled Pine. That’s when I know…someone detonated bombs.

“Ace, man. They blew up the front door outside. Entrance is caved in up there.” Cass duck crawls over to me, his voice barely registering over the ringing swallowing my ears. The stench of sulfur bursts in heavy clouds throughout the room.

Glancing up at the chaos ensuing around the chapel, everyone scrambles in random directions, holding their hands above their heads to prevent the dust from pelting them. Everyone, except for one.

My wife’s boyfriend still sits in his seat. But now, he has a smug smile smeared on his face.

He’s dead.