Page 144 of His Ruin
I shrug casually as I button my jacket. “She can’t stay angry forever.”
Ivan sighs deeply, sitting forward as he rests his elbows on his knees and presses a thumb to the bridge of his nose. “I can’t believe you’re making me do this…”
Simeon throws a smile over his shoulder as he raises his glass. “To the new addition of our family!”
The guys cheer, knocking back their drinks as Ivan has an existential crisis.
I fix my cufflinks, making sure I look the part of a husband and not the being I am at my core. Death won’t be making an appearance today. Instead, Kaden Wilder, the groom, will.
“Is everyone here?” My eyes flicker to Saint in the mirror as he plops down beside Ivan and pours himself a glass of whiskey.
“Present and very confused,” my friend concurs with a tilt of his chin. “It’s chaos out there. Your mom and dad have no idea what’s going on.”
“Good,” I praise as I get one last look at myself in the mirror for approval. “The less time they have to think, the better.”
“I hope you’re ready for war,” Ivan says with an edge to his tone as he sits back. “No one will agree with this, you know that, right?”
“Which is why I have a failsafe in place,” I respond as I catch Simeon’s eye. He nods subtly, the plan still fresh.
“You’re fucking insane,” Ivan shakes his head in disbelief.
The door to my dressing room opens again as Sergey saunters in with an unlit cigar between his lips. “We’re ready to begin,Smerti.”
Saint is the first one up, brimming with something sinister as he leads our group out the doors. Ivan walks beside me, his face set as he stares straight ahead. He’s calculating again—preparing to bury bodies before I’ve even made a move. The inner workings of a true Pahkan.
The corridor stretches on, lights twinkling softly as hardened criminals from the underworld taint the fine halls of this establishment. It’s almost comedic to see how hard they’re trying with their tattoos pitifully covered by their suits and their constantly searching eyes as if they expect us to enter a turf war in the middle of The Plaza.
It’s the thought that counts.
As we near the grand double doors, Saint doesn’t hesitate to throw them open widely. Inside the banquet room, tables are lined with fine satin linens, and white roses overflow from crystal vases. A floral arch stands tall near the windows, draped in ivory fabric. Candle clusters line the aisle, flickering against the white runner that leads to the center stage where we’ll speak our vows.
It’s everything my sister wantedit to be.
The room quiets at our arrival, murmured voices dipping into hummed sounds as multiple sets of eyes find us. Mom and Dad rise from their table in the front, their brows drawn as they take in my entourage.
Kodi sweeps through, her beige satin dress trailing behind her as she stalks towards us with a fierce expression. Simeon intercepts her, pointing his gun into her side as he leans close, and her eyes round in terror.
“Go back to the altar,” he instructs slowly. “Don’t make me correct you again.”
She swallows, her eyes flickering to me as her chest heaves with a deep breath. “What are you doing?” She hisses.
“Getting married,” I respond as I pass her without a glance back.
She follows, her head tucked before she takes her place on the altar and holds her bouquet so tightly that it bends the stems. Her jaw flexes as she shifts uncomfortably in place.
As I step up, Mom and Dad attempt to leave their table, but are stopped short when they receive the same treatment as Kodi—the barrel of a gun jammed into their spines.
“Son!” Dad projects across the room, his voice booming. “What’s the meaning of this? What’s going on?”
“It would be best if no one tried anything,” I warn. “Anyone makes a move, and you won’t be leaving here alive.”
Mom gasps, grabbing at the skirt of her satin green dress as she gawks at me like she doesn’t know who I am anymore. “Kaden, what’s gotten into you? What’s this about?”
Dylan’s family is corralled towards the left, enforcers closing them in as they take their seats with their weapons brandished. It’s a silent threat that carries weight.
Ivan steps up beside me, slapping a hand over my shoulder. “I hope she gives you hell.”
“She’s heaven,” I respond. “There are no depths she could drag me to that I wouldn’t gladly drown in.”
