21. Alek

21

ALEK

T he priest didn't answer, fumbling with sounds and stuttering like he didn't know how to reply.

She tried again, asking louder as she remained near me on the floor. "Can you still marry us? Can you stand?"

Unbelievable. It was so fucking impossible that I struggled to convince myself of what she said, of what she wanted.

She wanted to run. I knew it. I saw it in her eyes. Those beautiful blue orbs had been so hesitant, torn with the urge to flee and abandon me while I was down.

But she hadn't. She chose to stay here and still wanted to get married to me.

I glanced again at Andrey and considered why she'd be so eager to align herself with me. She'd just murdered a prominent man in a rival bratva. She'd be hunted. Targeted. Alone and without support, she'd never make it. Married to me, though, she'd have some protection.

Anyone who wanted to punish her for killing Andrey would have to go through me first. She knew it. But I suspected she wanted to stay for another reason.

As I sat up with her help, dizzy from the bullet that Andrey had aimed at her, I realized that this bold, sexy woman was made of much stronger stuff than I'd first thought. She may be young, na?ve, and stubborn as fuck, but she was mature with an old soul. And she cared. I'd suspected that she was a maternal nurturer, and she'd more than proved it. She showed me how much compassion and courage she had to help me with my wound, then to see to my brother's comfort. And the priest's as well.

It should've been an oxymoron, calling her a compassionate, caring woman when she'd just murdered a man, but even in that, she'd been selfless. She'd shot him to spare my life.

"Careful," she chided as I got to my feet shakily. Her small hands braced me as she offered physical support to stand.

You care. It was a monumental concept to understand, but I felt stupid to fight against it. She'd already shown how much she cared. Despite her sass and ease with arguing with me, she gravitated toward me with affection. Like when she'd woken up in the middle of the night, still half asleep and seeking my touch and warmth on the bed. Already, she craved my touch. It gave me all the fuel to look forward to what waited ahead of us. I wanted to think that this primal desire sizzling between us could be the starting point of something that would evolve and grow into love, a deep, lasting bond with respect and need. A partnership like what my grandparents had so long ago.

"I can," the priest said as Maxim approached him and helped him to his feet. While Mila draped my arm around her shoulders and guided me toward the man Maxim had paid to be here to officiate the wedding, footsteps thundered down the hall. With Mila's support, her shoulder wedged in my armpit to stabilize me, I grabbed my gun from her hand.

My injury protested. Fierce stabs of agony lanced down my arm as I held my gun up, but I was used to being pushed to my limits.

Just as the door flew open and one of Andrey's closest confidants rushed in, I aimed my gun at his head.

He flung his hands up into the air as he skidded to a stop, breathing hard. "Aleksei?" He narrowed his eyes, looking at Mila with me, then Maxim and the priest. Last, he noticed Andrey dead next to the other Valkov soldier.

"What the fuck is going on?"

"You're going to stand right there and bear witness to our wedding." When he opened his mouth to shout back, snarling at what I'd said, I took one step closer with my gun trained on the spot between his eyes.

"This is bullshit! What the fuck are you trying to do, Aleksei?" He advanced, but Maxim lifted his gun to aim it at him as well.

He quieted, swearing and rubbing one hand over his face.

Under gunpoint, he'd behave. I glanced at the terrorized priest. "We need two witnesses?"

He gulped, his huge Adam's apple wobbling as he nodded quickly. "Yes. Two."

"Go on, then," Mila said, glancing at this newcomer who fumed at us together.

"Do you take Aleksei Valkov to be your husband, now and forever?" the priest asked her.

"I do." She glanced at me, then frowned at the man Maxim and I kept under gunpoint.

"Do you take…" The priest faltered, volleying a nervous look at Maxim, then Mila. He raised his brows, sheepish.

"Mila Kastava," she supplied, rolling her eyes. "Quickly."

"Do you take Mila Kastava to be your wife, now and forever?" he asked me.

"I do." I slammed my lips to hers without taking my eyes off the soldier near the door.

The priest dropped his jaw, blinking in shock from the fast pace of the vows. Maxim had to have warned him to keep this short and simple. As the elderly man winced in pain and pressed the cloth to his wound, I knew he'd appreciate this hasty ceremony.

"Rings?" I asked my brother.

He handed them over, and as we both kept an eye on the soldier getting angrier and angrier at the door, Mila and I slipped the simple bands onto each other's fingers. Dmitri had texted that he was still looking for our mother's ring, somewhere at the mansion my father had once shared with Pavel, but he hadn't been able to locate it yet.

Later. I'd give my wife anything she fucking wanted, all the jewels and gems in the world. Everything she coveted, I'd deliver.

"You're nothing but a fucking traitor," the soldier accused. He pointed at Andrey on the floor and twisted his lips as he struggled to keep a lid on his temper. "You've betrayed us all. You've betrayed the Family!"

I tilted my head to the side, peeved with his outburst.

"Who killed him?" he demanded.

"I did." I stood as tall as I could, ignoring the biting stabs of pain in my shoulder and back. I would never let Mila take the blame for Andrey's murder. She didn't deserve that fault. "And you're going to run home and tell him. Tell Pavel the good news."

"That you shot his son?" he shouted, reaching for his gun.

I fired one shot at his hand, hitting my mark perfectly and preventing him from trying anything else. He'd live, if with a nasty scar.

He dropped to one knee, hugging his mangled arm to his chest as he reacted.

"Go home. Tell Pavel the good news. That I've ended the waste of life that he called his son." I tightened my arm around Mila. "And that I've claimed a wife." Without looking away from him as he rocked and cradled his arm in pain, I pressed a quick kiss to her temple.

The faster he could relay this information, the quicker my uncle would be pushed to losing it. I needed him off balance, riled up, and crazy with how messily his world was crumbling apart.

"Fuck you. You'll never get away with this, Aleksei!" He staggered to his feet, weaving in his steps as he turned and rushed out the door, still holding his arm up protectively.

Once he was gone, I checked that the priest was still standing. Maxim, too. They needed medical help, and I wouldn't keep them here and prevent them from getting it.

My younger brother sighed, stepping closer with relief and worry mixed in his troubled expression. "You're all right?"

I nodded. With Mila, I sure as fuck would be. "You?"

He winced but nodded. "Before you go," he said, quick to know that we couldn't linger here. After he reached into the pocket on the inside of his jacket, he handed over papers.

"What's this?"

"Nikolai snagged them from a Kastava guard near the Colver dock." He raised his brows, wondering if he'd need to explain further.

He didn't. I flipped the papers open, spotting the familiar coded lines of gibberish. These were more copies of that same encrypted correspondence that I'd been hoping to use for answers about that big shipment. That trade was intended to damage the Family, and I hoped that these new papers would shine light on how Sergei Kastava planned to set the Valkovs up.

"Thank you." I refolded the packet of papers, aware of Mila watching me with an unreadable expression. Once I slipped them inside my jacket, secure in my pocket, I realized that she had yet to look away.

Her curiosity intrigued me, but it wasn't the time or place to put her on the spot about her observations and the strange way she stared at me.

For all I knew, she was just zoning out, skittish and slow to react or think after all that had happened. She'd just killed a man, and I bet it was the first time she'd taken a life. She'd just married me, and I knew she had to have mixed feelings about that after that brief moment of her hesitating to flee the scene.

I'd cut her some slack. Just a little. Once we were out of here and I saw to my wounds, I would focus on helping her adjust to our new life.

Eliminating Andrey was a huge, important step in my agenda, and I couldn't have anticipated how soon he could've been taken out of the picture. I had assumed that I would need to hunt him down and draw him out of hiding, but no. His ego, his pride, had brought him here with a lame attempt at foiling me.

"Until I see you next time," Maxim told me, leaning in for a feeble pat on the back. He didn't touch near my wound, but still, we were both running on fumes from the extent of our beatings. I knew without asking that he'd handle the bodies in my wake.

"You too, Sister ," he added with a sly smile for Mila.

She dipped her chin in acknowledgment and shifted her weight on her feet.

Curious or not, she was mine—now and forever, like the priest had declared.

It was the fastest, bloodiest wedding I've ever witnessed, but it was over.

We were married, and it was time to get my wife out of here.