Page 3 of Bedazzled
“Where is Patrick,” he enunciates carefully.
“I think he’s dead,” I was crying because why not? Yuri's gone and a bunch of his people are dead and-
“Tania, do not go outside,” his stern voice broke through my hysteria a little, “there may be more. Stay inside!”
I ignored him and slammed through the front doors where the poor doorman was dead I think and dropped to my knees by Patrick. There was an ocean of broken glass around him and I was trying to stop the never-ending flow of blood even though he was probably dead and I stared at my sunflowers. They were crushed and torn and the yellow flowers were nearly as dark as the purple ones because they were stained red with my Yuri’s blood.
Chapter One
In which Yuri and Tania experience the better “Meet Cute.”
Yuri…
Maksim and Ella Morozov’s wedding: Six months ago…
“Really Maksim, I must ask this yet again, “Why must you do everything the hard way?”
BeingPakhanto the Morozov Bratva is a grim business, but even here, in front of the archbishop and about to marry the world’s most unwilling bride, my brother’s expression was cold and composed.
“Shut up, Yuri.” He refused to look at me, still gazing stoically down the aisle.
I turned slightly so no one could read my lips. “I have seen this woman angry. I have no doubt she will attempt to murder you in your sleep. It is possible,” I allowed, “that you deserve it, but…”
“You’re betting your personal safety on the fact that we’re standing in front of the archbishop and you know I won’t beat the hell out of you in front of a man of God,” Maksim said, “but you are forgetting that my memory is long, and my reach is longer. It might be five years from now when it amuses me to do it, but Iwillpunch your pretty face.”
The archbishop was gazing at us sternly, so I struggled to stop laughing before my brother really made good on his promise.
Ella was lovely, I absolutely agreed with that. Tall and elegant, and physically, at least, she was a perfect match for my brother. They made a stunning couple with their black hair and pale eyes. She was walking sedately down the aisle until her steps slowed, and then the girl holding up the wedding gown’s silk train behind her discreetly punched her in the back.
Hmmm… who have we here?
She might have been petite, but she was balancing on sky-high heels like she did it every day. She looked up, and I noticed her eyes, a spectacular golden color I had not seen before. Her blue dress showed off all kinds of curves and luscious, tanned skin.
I love a woman with a tiny waist, and I caught a glimpse of her shapely, round ass before she turned to face me. My gaze darted up but she was trying to smother a grin. She knew exactly where I had been looking.
It was clear no one had warned her about her role in the ceremony, so when I lifted the golden crown for Maksim, I nodded toward Ella’s. She watched me lift it over his head and did the same, though even those four-inch heels were not quite high enough. But she held the crown up and steadily, even though she was doing it on tiptoe. My new sister-in-law glanced at us as her friend winked at me and I grinned back, rolling her eyes at the both of us.
Tania…
Was it wrong that I absolutely intended to bag Maksim’s brother before this night was over? Yeah, this was the most fucked-up wedding ever and the ballroom of the Four Seasons was filled with bad guys. I mean,reallybad guys but this Yuri looked like he was a bad, bad boy in all the best ways.
But first; keeping Ella’s shit together because my girl was on the edge. We were hiding in the ladies’ room, because ever since junior high school, that’s where we had all our best conversations.
“You don’t really have to pee, huh? Are we hiding from someone?” I rubbed her back and checked my hair in the mirror. Oh, man, the dam broke and she told me about getting threatened at gunpoint by Maksim’s psychotic ex - Cat… Kitty…Katana, I don't remember, Sokolov - and Ella’s shitty ex-boxer bodyguard was in on it and even though she was marrying into the Bratva this was her first held-at-gunpoint experience and I was ready to shoot this Russian hellhound myself. And to top it off? The bodyguard was getting a blowski as we passed by on the way to the bathroom! That was one shitty work ethic, dude.
Poor Ella’s face was crumpling and I panicked and grabbed tissues and threw them at her like confetti.
“Okay, okay,” I babbled and waved my hands around a little. “Okay, listen here, little missy! You just suck it up, do you hear me!” I knew she would laugh because that’s what my mother used to tell us.
Her bodyguard had zero sense of timing and pounded on the door like his bladder was about to detonate and this was the last toilet left in Manhattan.
“Mrs. Morozov, they are calling for you.”
“She’ll be out in a minute!” I shouted, “Look, get through this shitshow, eat some cake - oh, and make sure you take a giant chunk home because that looks delicious - and then tell Maksim-”
“Mrs. Morozov, you will come out now.”
“In a minute!” Ella and I shouted together and I tried to refocus. “Tell Maksim later so he knows how to handle the Sokolov’s who are clearly seriously fucked up. Okay?”
