She nods.
"Saint… Victoria, why is it that you two can’t keep your hands off each other for the few minutes that’s needed from you to seal this holy union?"
Victoria tries to pull away. I release her neck, only to wind my arm around her waist and pull her close. She resists, but I tug with enough force that she falls into me. I keep her there, pressed from thigh to hip, tuck her under my arm. Good. I have her where I can finally keep an eye—and other parts of my body—tuned into her.
I glance at Edward, "Perhaps because there isn’t an unholier couple in history who’ve attempted to make a go at this bloody ceremony?"
"Saint," Edward admonishes me, "language."
"Fuck, Father. Seriously?"
Edward frowns, then steps back. We walk through, and come to a halt. I glance around the assembled faces.
"The fuck?" I glower. "What’s this, a circus?"
"You’re getting married, ol' chap, couldn’t pass up the opportunity to invite our friends to witness your downfall," Weston ambles forward.
Amelie breaks away from his side and darts forward.
She embraces Victoria, "Oh my God!" she whisper-screams, "You’re doing this? You’re actually gonna go through with this, V?"
Victoria pats the woman on her shoulder as her eyes meet mine.
I glare at her. She swallows, something in her gaze pleading with me, beseeching me... For what? Reassurance? Asking me to tell her that it will all be okay? Perhaps a promise that all the bad stuff will go away and we’ll live happily ever after? Not. She’s not getting anything of the sort from me.
I turn away, crack my neck. "The fuck is it so hot in here?"
Weston blinks. He peers into my face, then chuckles. "You nervous, man?"
"Of course, not," I frown.
"You should be." He grins, "Not every day that one of the most confirmed bachelors in town decides to walk down the aisle."
"It’s a fake wedding, dickwad," I growl.
He laughs, "You sure about that?"
"Of course, I am… I mean, it’s real to begin, but I plan to walk away from her when—" I twist my lips.
"When?"
"When all of this is over, of course," I wave a hand in the air.
"What is over?" He folds his arms over his chest, "Explain it to me, Sherlock."
"When we’ve tracked down the members of the Mafia who did this to us, make sure they are locked away, or better still, six feet under. And when she is safe, when—" my voice tapers off. Shit, do I mean that? No. I don’t mean that. Did I propose a marriage to tie her to me? Of course, I did, but only so I can keep my property safe. Because she is the key to unlocking the door, to leading us to those who turned our lives upside down.
"You gonna complete your sentence anytime soon?" Weston smirks.
"No," I growl, then drag my fingers through my hair. "You don’t have to seem so pleased with yourself. You wait until it’s your time."
"My time?" He cups his chin, "I’m not the one who proposed a wedding to get close to an asset."
"She’s more than that," I frown.
"Of course, she is…to you." He slaps my shoulder. "It’s what landed you in this mess."
"Fuck." My heart begins to race. Sweat beads my palms. "You’re talking as if my life is over…"
"In a way, it is... Beginning of a journey, and all that bullshit..."
"Don’t you have a procedure to attend to? You’re supposed to be a hot-shot doctor—"
"Who wouldn’t pass up the chance to be there for one of his closest friends."
"Ha," I snort. "What a crock of bull-fucking-shit. You’re here to ensure I am tied up so you can capitalize on the assets of 7A Investments and FOK media."
"Now would I do that?" He raises his hands. "After all, everything is spelled out in black and white. No way, can I go against the split of profits."
"There are other ways to go behind our backs and take what’s not due to you."
"Especially when it’s money that should have come to you." He nods, "Now, I am not saying it hadn’t crossed my mind." He grins. "Not my fault if I pull it off either, given you and Sinner—" he jabs a thumb over his shoulder, "are occupied with matters of the heart, and all that."
"This isn’t a matter of the heart," I growl.
"You’re right, again." He slaps my shoulder. "It’s your dick that’s leading you on, man. You should’ve fucked her and gotten it out of your system—"
I redden.
"What?" He opens and closes his mouth, "No."
"Shut up," I mutter.
He takes me by my shoulders. "Look into my eyes, my child. Tell me it’s not what I suspect it is."
"Back the fuck off, wanker."
He searches my features, "It is, isn’t it?"
"What is?" a familiar voice sounds behind him.
I groan, "No, no, no. Enough of this asinine chitchat."
Arpad saunters up, "The man doth protest too much."
"Why the fuck aren’t you on your watch already?"
"Because," he opens his arm wide, "I had to see you safely married first."
I glare at him, "You seem in a rare, fine mood, ass wipe."
"Temper, ol' chap. Gotta watch that old ticker, now that you’re getting into a different phase of your life. You’re going to have your hands full, as it is, dealing with the wife… The kids."
"What?" I gape. "No kids," I cut the air with my hand, "no way."
"No patter of little feet in your living room then?" Damian prowls over, his golden locks glinting in the light from the chandelier above. "You mean, you don’t want the little devils waking you up early in the mornings?"
"Nope."
"But…but, you’ll have so much fun teaching them to play Cricket. Oh, wait, the potty training comes before that. That could be fun; you’d be a natural at it."
I stare at him in growing horror," Jesus, I have no idea what
