7. Alek

7

ALEK

T he day of the wedding dawned dark and stormy. It put me in a sinister mood, ready to impart some violence to ensure this union wouldn't happen. Summers were hot and brutal with the heat of the city, but as I walked the last block toward the old church where Andrey would take Mila as his bride, a cool breeze threaded through the streets.

I'd never taken stock of my surroundings with too much sentiment. I wasn't superstitious, and I didn't have the creativity to assume my environment could add to my plans. Under the cover of dark, heavy clouds and the threat of rain, though, I could easily convince myself that the setting was appropriate.

Chaos. That was what the sky promised. And that was all I intended to bring to this ceremony.

Cars lined up along the street. On the sidewalks, guests hurried inside before the clouds opened and dumped a deluge. Humidity stuck to the surface of the windows as air-conditioning units cranked at top throttle to chill the building. Even though everyone rushed inside and claimed seats, I lingered outside, stalling and waiting for my opportune moment to strike.

Last night, Nikolai and Dmitri stayed over to discuss how I could pull the brakes on this wedding. Killing the groom or bride seemed excessive, and it would be a weightier grievance than merely preventing their wedding from proceeding as planned. If I could secure evidence that the Kastavas were trying to fuck us over, Pavel wouldn't want Andrey to marry Mila. All I needed was time to prove that my suspicions were warranted. After I accomplished that, I didn't give a shit who married whom.

As long as it's not me at the altar. I snorted a laugh as I leaned up against the rough brick wall to the church. Marriage wouldn't be in the cards for me. I doubted I'd ever want to marry, and since I was only a cousin, the son of a dead man, my marriage wouldn't carry much clout for the Family. My life was better spent killing, spying, and supervising the family's businesses. I hadn't bothered to seek any women lately, but the alternative, to only have one woman to look forward to, didn't appeal to me.

Andrey disagreed. He'd already announced his intention to cheat on this Mila woman. Affairs weren't anything out of the norm, but I'd never shared that opinion. My mother was loyal to my father, and before his death, he had yet to move on from her and seek a lover after her passing when I was five years old.

Maxim was young enough to be optimistic that he could have what our parents had once shared. Our baby brother was the hopeless romantic, but I was content to stay jaded like this, alone and untethered to live my life as I saw fit.

If I were to be stuck with a woman… I shook my head and lit a cigarette as I stalled, amused that my thoughts meandered to such a silly topic. I'd want a curvy spitfire like that secretary.

It'd been two days now, and still , I couldn't get her out of my mind. I kept thinking back to her bold gaze, unflinching as she stared me down in that office. Her kissable, fuckable lips as she'd pouted and expressed her uneasiness with what I said. And the way she'd crossed her arms? That sex kitten knew what she was doing, enticing me to check out her generous tits.

Fuck. She was seared into my mind. It wasn't only her beauty. More than anything, it was her spirit, her attitude. Bratva women weren't supposed to speak up, to act out, or to argue. Yet, she had, and that fight turned me on.

I diligently remained in the shadows to watch the guests enter the church. Guards—both Valkov and Kastava men—patrolled the block. Many of them glanced at me, curious and suspicious about why I lingered there. I wasn't a mere soldier. I wasn't part of the security force.

Instead, like I'd planned with my brothers who were already inside as guests, I would disturb the peace. The moment everyone was inside, ensuring the collective threat of so many prominent bratva acquaintances sitting vulnerable under one roof, I'd head inside and unleash gunfire. I didn't intend to kill anyone. I would if I had to. The simple suggestion of violence would be enough to cause a commotion. No one would know if they were targeted. Everyone would assume they were the one being shot at. And it would work. It was the simplest pause on the wedding that would stir enough doubt from both parties. Pavel might be too stupid and insist that they resume the ceremony after they proved the gunfire was a false alarm. But I had a hunch it might spook Kastava into reconsidering until further negotiations.

And if that didn't work? I had another idea that would cause war.

"We'll have plenty to celebrate."

I turned my head, stubbing my cigarette out on the sidewalk as a Kastava soldier spoke up on the steps. Hidden by the wall to the steps up to the entrance, I was in a prime position to listen in.

"Yes, we fucking will," his companion joked back. "Sergei is wise to set this up."

Set this up? Those words raised a red flag.

"I can't believe we've scored this big," the first soldier said. "I mean, that we will score this big."

"Yeah. Not just a portion of the arms, but the whole shipment."

They chuckled, laughing softly among themselves. Down on the street, in the darkness, I fumed.

I fucking knew it!

They didn't plan to get a cut of the arms—arms it sounded like we couldn't afford to receive in the first place. They planned to somehow take it all.

When another man approached them, they changed the topic, discussing the security for when the husband and wife left after the ceremony was over. I tuned them out, knowing it wouldn't get to that point. I wouldn't let them. Hearing these men convinced me that I was right to suspect the Kastavas would screw us over, and I wouldn't stand by and let us get connected to enemies intending to steal from us. Or set us up. Either would end us, and it was up to me to stop it.

Enough of this bullshit. I wouldn't second-guess myself again. The Kastavas didn't want an alliance. They intended to take over.

Over my dead body. I glared at the street, biding my time until the guests were all inside. A glance at my watch confirmed that the moment neared. Any second now, the music would waft out through the slim window over my head. It would be my cue to act, and I would, ruthlessly and swiftly.

My phone buzzed. It was the text Ivan had agreed to send, a final confirmation that the key players were in place.

Ivan: ..

Two periods. It was his code for an all-clear, and I knew that to mean Pavel and Sergei were both inside, seated in the front-row pews.

I drew in a deep breath, relishing the cooler, open air out here before I left my hiding spot. Confidence filled me, not nerves. Power strummed through my muscles as I jogged up the steps. Not fear. I wouldn't hesitate, not for a second. When I made my mind up, nothing and no one would steer me from seeing my mission through.

Recognized as a top brother in the bratva, I was given clearance at the large, wooden double doors that had been pulled shut. My brothers wouldn't think anything of my presence here. The Kastavas would know better than to wonder why I came inside now. I was expected, and with that easy entrance, I headed inside the vestibule.

Incense assaulted my nose, and I winced at the old, musty stink of the ancient building. Dim light shone from the mosaic-decorated ceiling, but I didn't wait to reach for my gun. I strode over the polished marble floor, knowing many more shoes would be stampeding over the surface as they fled the burst of gunfire I'd send to the ceiling.

Ivan glanced at me. It was all the acknowledgment he'd give me. Dmitri nodded, standing at his position near another door that led into the cavernous space of the church. Near the furthest of the three doors leading into the congregations' pews was Nikolai. He rocked back on his heels, a tell for his anxiousness to move and act on a plan.

Easy. Just wait.

I walked up closer, keeping my gun tucked to my side as I scanned the church. Guests and family members waited for the wedding to begin. I saw no sign of Andrey at the altar yet, but he had to be inside somewhere.

I glanced to the left, narrowing my eyes in the direction of the rooms where I bet he would be waiting to walk out. The hallway showed no activity, no guests or Valkovs preparing to walk down the aisle.

What's taking so long? Music continued to flow from the organ. Melodic chords carried through the chilled building, and as the tempo increased, so did my heart.

Any second now.

I turned, glancing to the right to see if the bridal procession was coming from that side of the building. More rooms were positioned there, and I knew plenty of people would be attending to the stars of the day. Bridesmaids, flower girls, the bride. They had to be down there, about to enter the aisle space.

All I saw was one angry guard. He approached so swiftly, I didn't have a chance to step back.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

Shit. He had to have seen my gun. I'd pulled it out too early. Or maybe not.

Fuck it. I lifted my arm, ready to pull the trigger and start the chaos. Pandemonium would follow the noise, but he stopped me.

Grunting hard, he chopped his hand down on my arm, and I spun to deflect his next hit. Just like that, we fell into an intense fight. Others rushed closer. My brothers jumped into the action, backing me up. It was madness.

Just as I pistol whipped the guard who'd first noticed me, I jerked my head up at the change of music.

The bridal march.

The wedding was starting.

The distraction cost me, and before I could refocus on firing my gun, another soldier tackled me. My gun went flying, skidding across the floor, out of reach for my first plan.

It's not over yet. I gritted my teeth, punching and kicking the Kastava assholes while I strained to reclaim my gun.

I would not let us get hitched to the enemy. Until my dying breath, just like my father had, I would fight for the bratva.