The main hall was a marble-filled monstrosity of gold and bronze and silver. The chandelier was original from the twenties and likely cost more than the entire building that housed it, and yet I couldn’t focus on the finery.

I stared at the guests filtering into the space.

Most of them Oligarch-adjacent. Men and women I worked with and who owed me favors. Members of the Drozdov, a couple lieutenants from the Polish mafia, several from the Ukrainians, even the boss of the Japanese Yakuza appeared and gave a respectful nod.

And I didn’t give a damn about any of them.

“Where is he?” I asked Erick softly.

“He’ll show.”

“He’d better. We’ve lost too much for this to fall through.” I tapped my foot, unable to contain my nerves. Upstairs, Cassie was getting ready with Roza, and she was a big part of the twisting in my guts. I wanted to see her badly, to kiss her and make sure she was okay, but most of all to stare at her in whatever dress Roza picked out.

I knew she’d be gorgeous. She was beautiful all the time, but Roza would outdo herself as always, and I felt a fluttering in my chest thinking about my lovely bride.

My wife, my future.

What started out as a business arrangement turned into so much more.

The guests crowded into the main banquet hall and filled in the chairs. I took on the central staircase looking down at them, keeping my bodyguards between me and the rabble. I didn’t want to get distracted by shaking hands and making small talk, even if that was expected of me.

None of that mattered, not really.

“Boss.” Erick nodded toward the doors. “Look.”

Eamon Ward stepped inside wearing a cheap black suit. He glared around him like the walls were covered in live snakes, then turned and motioned someone forward.

A wheelchair was pushed in after him. Sitting with his hands folded in his lap was Oisin MacKenna. A massive bodyguard rolled him forward and swiveled him to follow the flow of people congregating toward the chairs and the ceremony.

Oisin looked awful, much worse than I expected. He was old, his hair thinning, his pale skin liver-spotted and saggy. Thick black bags hung under his eyes and his suit was like a blanket draped over a skeleton. His shoulders were hunched, but his sharp green eyes scanned around him like lasers, and though he appeared to have one foot in the grave, I knew Oisin was still in there, and still sharp as ever.

“Come on,” I said, stepping past Erick.

I strode toward Oisin and my heart felt like it might rip itself into pieces.

I’d been hunting this man for years. I hired the best soldiers, spent hundreds of thousands of dollars on the chase, and kept narrowly missing the old bastard. This moment should’ve been triumphant, and yet it felt almost wrong, like I had stepped up to take my final vow, only to learn that the terms had changed.

Oisin met my gaze and a shaky smile crept over his paper-thin lips.

“Hello, Roman.” His voice was like sandpaper.

“Oisin. Nice of you to make it.”

“I thought it might be fun. You are marrying one of my girls, after all.”

Eamon’s jaw clenched at that, but he said nothing.

I ignored Cassie’s father. He was nobody to me, only dead weight. The moment she gave the word, I’d finish him and wrap his skull in a gift box.

“I wasn’t sure you’d come, considering I’ve been trying to kill you for the past three years.”

Oisin laughed, rough and guttural. He coughed, then beamed at me. “I’m glad you brought that up. Eamon here told me I shouldn’t show, but the possibility of an alliance with you through his daughter is far too tempting to ignore.”

Exactly what I hoped.

“You’ve heard about what’s going on right now with the Liberto and the Ramos. I think if we join forces and bring the Drozdov along for the ride, we can win considerable power all along the east coast. But I’ll need concessions from you, Oisin.”

The old man held up a hand. “We’ll talk after the ceremony. There’s plenty of time for that. First, I want to see you marry the girl.”

“Then you’d better take your places.” I checked my watch. The hall was nearly empty. “We’re starting soon.”

Oisin laughed again and gestured for the bodyguard to push him forward. Eamon stared at me but followed his boss into the main hall, and the three of them took their seats.

I watched them get settled. Erick stood at my elbow.

“He’s not what I expected,” I said softly.

“The wheelchair?”

“That and he doesn’t seem afraid.” I frowned, tilted my head. “He must know I have something planned.”

“Maybe he doesn’t care anymore. Clearly running and hiding from you for the past three years took a toll. Maybe he’s just done and willing to take an out, no matter how tenuous.”

“You could be right.” I squeezed his shoulder and nodded. “Is everyone in place?”

“Everyone’s ready.”

“Darren’s not here.” I was disappointed. I wanted him to challenge me, even if it would be a public spectacle.

“For the best. We’re lucky Oisin came anyway. I bet he didn’t realize Darren wouldn’t show.”

“How many men do you have looking for him right now?”

“As many as I could spare and still pull this off.”

“Good.” I ran a hand through my hair. I was nervous—and I never got nervous. This was the culmination of so much, the moment I’d planned and fought for.

And it was my wedding.

“You have the rings?” I asked.

Erick patted his jacket pocket. “I would be a shitty best man if I didn’t.”

“Good. It’s time for me to get married then.”

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