Kai motions at his guard with two fingers, and he lowers the gun. Kyle doesn’t disappear from behind him, probably because Kai can order his henchman to shoot me at any second.

“What option do you think it is?” Kai asks me. “Was it an accident or intentional?”

“Intentional.” I don’t even hesitate. “You wouldn’t have been that lucky if it were an accident.”

His lips twitch as he approaches me, not attempting to stop the blood oozing from his side. Sure, it’s not a lot, but it’s still a wound.

“I will pay a visit to V Corp.”

“Not Sergei?” I ask, bemused.

“Not Sergei.” He motions at my waist, and I follow his gaze to find blood on my front and on my wrists. I must’ve caught it during my sneaking journey. “Congratulations on the wedding.”

He reaches a hand out, probably to shake mine, but Kyle steps between us, blocking my vision of Kai. “You don’t get to touch her after you threatened to kill her. Piss off.”

“Fair enough.” I don’t see Kai’s face, but I can hear the smile in his tone. “Until we meet again.”

The guard bows his head in a show of respect and follows Kai. The moment they disappear, Kyle turns around so abruptly I flinch backward.

I’ve never seen this expression on his face. His eyes are fierce and the mask he usually wears is completely gone, allowing me a peek at the real man inside. And what I see in there? Well, it’s more complicated than anyone can decipher.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

It takes me a second to try to wrench myself out of his magnetic hold. “I told you I was coming with you.”

“And I told you to stay put.”

“Just because we’re married, barely, doesn’t give you the right to dictate my actions.”

“Bloody hell, Rai.” He kicks the car, causing its alarm to go off. “What if he shot you, huh? Would your stubbornness have saved you?”

“He wouldn’t have. Kai is our ally.”

“What if he decided he’s no longer an ally? What if he killed you to send a message to Sergei?”

“He wouldn’t do that.”

“What if he did?”

“I would’ve gotten myself out of it.”

“You can’t get yourself out of death. The moment the bullet is in, it’s in—do you understand?”

I don’t know if he’s still talking about this situation or something entirely different, but I nod anyway. Even I realize we’re at different skill levels and this could’ve really ended badly for me.

He wraps a hand behind my back, and I yelp as he holds me in his arms bridal style.

I grab his shirt with my fingers for balance. “What are you doing?”

“Consummating our marriage, Princess. It’s long overdue.”

11

Rai

Did he just say he’s going to consummate our marriage?

Yup, I think he did.

I’m stunned into a long silence at his words, my limbs staying still and my hold on his shirt loosening.

For some reason, my chest rises and falls heavily, and it has nothing to do with the adrenaline rush from earlier.

I stare at his face as he carries me, like, really stare at him—at the sharp lines of his jaw, his straight nose with the slight crookedness that makes him imperfect in so many ways, the man who became my husband because I agreed to it.

At that moment when the priest asked me to be his wife till death do us part, the past crashed into me and all I wanted to do was to run and never return.

My heart still bleeds from back then, and I didn’t trust that I could let it exsanguinate this time. Because now? Now, I have a feeling he will hurt me irrevocably if I let him.

By the time I shake myself out of my reverie, he’s reached his car and has opened the passenger door.

I squirm in his hold, needing to put as much distance between us as possible. “Let me go.”

“No.”

“I have to go back to check on Sergei and Ana.”

“They’re fine. The Irish who showed up were taken care of by Vladimir and the others.”

“Still—”

He holds the back of my neck with his rough, strong hand, forcing me to stop squirming. His face is mere breaths away as his hard eyes peer into mine. “Quit worrying about everyone else on your wedding day.”

“This is not a real wedding.” I meant for my voice to be hard, but it’s almost a whisper.

“Yes, it is. You said ‘I do’ in front of God and all his holy subjects.”

“You don’t believe in holy things.”

He smirks. “You remember. Were you that obsessed with me?”

I huff, turning away from him, but his hold on my neck keeps me pinned in place. “Don’t flatter yourself. I only remember things that will be of use.”

“You remember my teachings, too.”

“I do not,” I snap, chest going back to its heavy rise and fall. “That’s not the point.”

“Then what is?” His voice drops in range. “Oh, is it the part about how I don’t believe in holy things?”

“Yes.”

“You do. That’s what counts.”

“Who says I do?”

“You believe in anything the brotherhood believes in. A Bratva princess, through and through.”

I hit his chest with a closed fist. He lets me, then feigns a dramatic wince. “Kinky this early in the evening? I’m going to have my hands full with you tonight, aren’t I?”

“Not if you want to keep your dick where it belongs.”

He chuckles, the laugh lines around his eyes turning them lighter, shinier. “Oh, it will stay where it belongs and maybe I’ll use it to shut that stubborn mouth for once.” He strokes his fingers across my skin, eliciting zap-like sensations from the bottom of my stomach. “You won’t have much to say when your lips are wrapped around my dick, will you?”

A shudder goes through my entire body at his explicit words, and I blurt something out to camouflage my reaction. “Maybe when you’re in a coffin.”

“It’s a bad omen to imagine being a widow when you’re a bride, Princess.” He aligns his mouth with my ear until his hot breaths are the only thing I feel on my skin. “It might come true sooner than you think.”

I pull away, his words hitting me like an electric shock. “W-what do you mean?”

He places me on my feet only so he can nudge me into the passenger seat. I don’t protest, because all I can think about are his words. What does he mean I’ll become a widow sooner than I think?

Kyle climbs into the driver’s seat, and I fully face him. “What did you say just now?”

His whole body leans over in my direction, and my nostrils are assaulted by his distinctive clean smell as he straps the seatbelt over me. His mouth is a few inches away from mine when he pauses and expands the palm of his hand on my stomach where there’s a stain of blood.

“Our life together started with blood,” he says in a calm tone. “How do you expect it to end?”

I swallow the clog that lodges in my throat without warning. “Didn’t you tell me we choose our own destiny?”