Savage Hearts (Queens & Monsters Book 3)
Savage Hearts: Chapter 48

The reception is held at the Four Seasons Hotel in a magnificent ballroom. It has floor-to-ceiling windows, grand glittering chandeliers, and expansive views of the lush green Boston Public Gardens.

Every guest has to pass through a metal detector on their way in and also undergo a pat down by hand, performed by glowering Irishmen.

I’m surprised there isn’t a cavity search, these guys are that intense.

Sloane chose to forego a head table of the entire wedding party—another wise move—opting instead for a sweetheart table she and Declan sit at alone.

Marveling that she pulled all this together in a matter of days, I sit at a table with Nat, Kage, and five swarthy Sicilians wearing so much cologne, I can taste it.

Kieran and Spider sit at a table directly across the dance floor.

Every time I happen to glance in their direction, Spider is staring at me.

After everyone is seated, Nat introduces me to her fiancé.

He’s ruggedly handsome. With tousled dark hair, an unshaven jaw, and massive shoulders, he emits the kind of big-dick energy every woman and man in the room can feel.

Though he’s wearing a tux, he seems like he’d be far more comfortable in a leather bomber jacket and combat boots, a handkerchief knotted around his neck. Chunky silver rings decorate the thumb and middle fingers of his right hand. One of them is a skull.

He’s what I picture the swashbuckling pirates of the Caribbean looked like.

“It’s nice to meet you, Kage. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

He has the kind of gaze Mal does, that same penetrating, laser beam intensity that could slice you in two. But his eyes are dark instead of pale green.

“Bet you have,” he drawls, slinging an arm over the back of Nat’s chair. “Must be some interesting conversations that go on in that household.”

I smile at him. “Don’t worry, I didn’t believe a word of it. If Nat likes you, you’re good in my book.”

He tilts his head and considers me. After a moment, he says, “You okay?”

He packs so much into those two words, it’s amazing. My heartbeat ticks up a notch.

I know he’s the one who gave Mal information about Declan when all this started, but I also remember Sloane saying the Russian Bratva and the Bratva in the US aren’t that friendly.

What I don’t know is if Kage and Mal are still talking.

On the off chance they are, I’m not missing the opportunity to send a message.

“If you mean physically, yes. If you mean mentally, spiritually, emotionally…I’m dying.”

He inclines his head. “Yeah. Heard you caught feelings while you were away.”

“It’s much worse than that.”

He looks at me more closely.

“Do you think we could talk after dinner? Somewhere not so…” I glance at the Sicilians. “Loud?”

“You got something you want to pass along?”

I nod, starting to tremble.

“Declan won’t like it.” He glances at Nat. His tone becomes wry. “I’m already in enough trouble as it is.”

Nat squeezes his thigh. “It’s okay, honey. This is different.”

He sends her a look that’s equal parts hot and sour.

“I don’t want to get anyone into trouble. I won’t say anything to Declan, but I doubt he’d mind anyway, considering he tried to get a message to Mal for me, too.”

Kage narrows his eyes. “He tried to send a message from you to the man who wants to kill him?”

“Mal isn’t going to kill Declan.”

“Since when?”

“Since I asked him not to.”

He’s silent with astonishment for a second, then he shakes his head and chuckles. “Talk about a self-fulfilling prophecy.”

“I don’t get it.”

“Never mind. It’s just something Malek said to me once. Sure, we’ll talk after dinner.”

“Thank you.”

Then, somehow, I’m conversing with the Sicilians. They’re so eager to know if I’m single, I’m worried they want to sell me on the black market. It becomes apparent after a few minutes, however, that what they’re really after is an alliance with Declan.

One of the men has a son he’d very much like to see married to someone in Declan’s family. The other has a daughter around my age, who he casually mentions is still a virgin and comes from excellent stock.

He says it as if he’s a farmer discussing his breeding mares.

I guess the whole arranged-marriage thing is still alive and well in the Mafia.

Dinner is served, followed by dancing. From what I can tell, Kage is the only Bratva in the room. Everyone else seems to be either Irish or Italian, though I do hear a few accents I can’t place.

When I feel a hand on my shoulder and turn to see who it is, I freeze.

Spider stands behind my chair, gazing down at me.

“Care to dance?”

I hesitate, but he’s relaxed and smiling, so I smile back and nod. “Sure.”

He pulls out my chair for me then leads me onto the dance floor and takes me into his arms.

Because of course the fucking music changed from pop to a ballad, didn’t it?

It’s like Fate hates me.

We sway in silence, listening to the music and not looking at each other, until he says, “You look beautiful tonight.”

“Thank you. And you’re very handsome in that tux.”

He glances down at me. A muscle flexes in his jaw. “I remember you called me that the day we met. Handsome.”

“And I remember how red your face turned.”

“It was the first time I’ve ever blushed.”

He spins me around. I see Declan and Sloane at the sweetheart table, watching us, but then Spider spins me again, and they’re gone.

“I owe you an apology for the way I acted a few weeks ago. I was an idiot.”

He sounds sincere. I’m relieved but don’t want to make a big deal about it, so I keep my voice light. “It’s over. Let’s forget it.”

“I can’t. I’ve tried.” His arm tightens around my waist. His voice drops, turning husky. “I can’t forget anything that happened between us.”

My relief vanishes. Butterflies explode into panic in my stomach.

We dance for the rest of the song in silence. As soon as it ends, I break away, murmur a thank you, and head to the ladies room to hide.

I lock myself into a stall, lean against the door, and close my eyes while I try to come up with a solution to the Spider situation. Short of a kick to the balls, he doesn’t seem like he’s going to be deterred.

Just get through tonight. Then talk to Declan and Sloane, and let them take care of it. Spider will listen to them.

Except he might not, considering he followed you to another country against Declan’s wishes.

Heaving a sigh, I use the toilet then go to the sink to wash my hands.

When I turn off the water and reach for a paper towel, I happen to glance into the mirror above the sinks.

I freeze.

A man is directly behind me.

He’s huge.

Frighteningly tall and broad, he stands with his legs spread open and his massive hands hanging by his sides. He’s all in black, including a heavy wool overcoat with the collar turned up against his tattooed neck.

His hair and beard are thick and dark. A small silver hoop earring glints in one earlobe. Beneath lowered brows, his eyes are a startling shade of pale green.

He’s the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.

“You’re here.” It comes out choked, on a sob.

Mal says softly, “Did you think I’d let you attend a Mob wedding without my protection?”

God, his voice. That lovely voice, deep, rich, and hypnotic. All the hair on my arms prickles. So do all my nerve endings. A dangerous current of electricity crackles through my body. I feel like I stepped on a live wire.

I whisper, “Yes.”

“You know better.”

“Do I? You didn’t even want to be in the same country as me.”

His voice drops an octave. “You know exactly what I want.”

“I know that you’re an obstinate fool who should have a little more confidence in me.”

In the mirror, our gazes are locked. I’d turn around, but I can’t move my legs. I can’t move anything.

“Confidence in you?” he repeats. “I have every confidence in you.”

“Pakhan had more.”

His eyes spark. “What does that mean?”

“Remember what he said to me at our dinner? ‘Empires aren’t run by the meek.’ I get what that means now. He wasn’t talking about you. He was talking about me. He assumed I’d be by your side when you took over.”

My voice breaks. “But you decided to give me away instead.”

The spark in Mal’s eyes flares into fire. He steps closer, bringing with him that scent I know so well. Pine trees and moonlight, fog caressing the branches of towering evergreens in an ancient woods.

My woods, the one where I learned how to be happy.

He growls, “I didn’t give you away, malyutka.”

“You sure as hell didn’t keep me.”

“Didn’t I?”

The emotion making me misty-eyed and weak-kneed evaporates abruptly, leaving me furious. I whirl around and glare at him.

“I have no interest in playing word games with you. Or mind games, for that matter. The answer is no, you didn’t fucking keep me. You put me onto a plane and shipped me off like cargo!”

His gaze rakes over me, as hot as coals. He takes in my expression and my dress in one swift, hungry look, then reaches out and grabs me.

He drags me against his chest and crushes his mouth to mine.

All the fight drains out of me like somebody pulled a plug.

I sag against him, kissing him back with desperation. His smell, his taste, his heat—how did I ever survive even a day without all this?

“I never let you go,” he says gruffly, his mouth moving against my bruised lips. “Not for a goddamn second. You were with me all the time, haunting me with that smart mouth and those beautiful eyes and that heartbreaking smile that kills me every time I see it. I didn’t last a week before I made the first trip here.”

“Wait, what?” I blink up at him, confused. “You were here? I never saw you.”

“That’s because you were asleep.”

After a moment of astonishment, I start to laugh. “You broke into my bedroom again?”

“The last time that will ever happen.”

The voice, low and lethal, comes from our right.

We look over and see Spider standing at the door.

He’s holding a gun.

I freeze in horror. I taste ashes in my mouth. Beneath my dress, my scar tingles and turns hot, like it just caught fire.

I wonder for a split second how he has a gun when everyone else was searched, realizing just as quickly that not only would security have cleared Declan’s personal bodyguard, but he probably carried extra weapons for the occasion.

Mal’s entire body has fallen perfectly still.

Spider gestures with the gun. “Riley, move away from him.”

“No.”

His furious gaze never moves from Mal’s face. “Do it. Now. I don’t want a repeat of last time.”

Shaking all over, I still manage to keep my voice even. “You’re not going to shoot him. Put the gun down and walk out.”

His laugh is short and hard. “He might’ve promised you he wouldn’t kill me, but the reverse isn’t true. Get your ass away from him right now.”

In a low, deadly rumble, Mal says, “Speak to her like that again, and I’ll happily break my promise.”

“Fuck you.”

Spider’s voice is loud and full of hatred. It echoes off the tile walls.

In the ballroom, the music is still going strong. A cheer goes up. Passing by the hallway outside, a woman laughs. She sounds drunk.

Mal releases me, moving carefully. He pushes me behind him and stands facing Spider, holding me back when I try to move to get between them.

Panic claws its way up my throat. “Spider, please! Please don’t do this! You can’t do this! I’m—”

“I don’t want to hear how you’re in love with him,” he snaps.

“No, listen to me—”

“Get the fuck away from her. Walk toward the door. We’re going to do this outside, for everyone to see. You deserve a public execution. The Hangman should die with an audience.”

Pushing me back, Mal takes a step forward.

Red pulses at the edges of my vision. My panic is so total, I can see the blood flowing through my own veins.

I don’t understand why he’s listening to Spider, why he’s following him out the bathroom door. I stumble after them, shouting for them to stop. The music drowns out my cries.

Then we’re pushing through the crowd on the dance floor. People pull away, startled. Someone sees Spider’s gun and screams.

The band stops playing. The guy on bass guitar realizes it last, plucking away until finally he notices he’s the only one jamming and looks up, blinking in surprise.

Then, except for the roar of my pulse in my ears, there’s silence.

I don’t know where Sloane or Declan are. I don’t know what anyone else is doing. I can only focus on Spider standing ten feet away from Mal in the middle of the dance floor, pointing the gun at his head.

I gather myself, take a deep breath, and say forcefully, “Spider, put that gun down right this minute!”

“Give me one good reason I shouldn’t shoot this Russian pig, Riley!”

Okay, if you insist. “Because I’m carrying his child!”

Surprise ripples through the crowd. Several people gasp. Spider jerks his head around and gapes at me.

I can’t look at Mal. I channel all my energy into staring Spider down, willing him to back off.

“Do you know what that means? We’re family now. Me, Mal, Declan, Sloane…and you, too. We’re all a family. This baby links us together. The Mob and the Bratva now have blood ties.”

A quiet cheer rises from somewhere in the room.

I’m pretty sure it’s Nat.

With a hand held out and my pulse throbbing, I walk slowly toward Spider. Frozen in shock, he watches me approach. He’s breathing hard, and his color is high. Any sudden movement might make him pull the trigger.

When I get close enough, I rest my hand gently on his wrist. Holding his wild gaze, I say softly, “Just put it down. It’s over.”

He swallows. After a pause that feels like forever, he drops his arm to his side and bows his head.

Declan appears from nowhere. He grabs the weapon from Spider’s hand and shoves him into a group of Irishmen who are waiting to one side. As a murmur begins to spread throughout the room, they hustle him away.

I’m grabbed and engulfed in a bear hug.

Mal lifts me clear off the floor so my feet dangle in the air as he holds me. Into my ear, he says hoarsely, “You’re pregnant?”

“Yes.”

“You’re having my child?”

“Yes. And if you move to Mercury to try to protect us, your unkempt homeless deer mouse will hunt you down and kill you.”

He groans, crushing me against his chest. One of my heels falls off.

We stay like that, locked in a tight embrace, oblivious to the murmuring crowd, until someone clears his throat.

When I look up, I see Declan and Sloane standing arm in arm behind Mal.

Sloane is beaming. Declan looks like he needs a stiff drink.

“Set me down, sweetie,” I whisper. “The bride and groom would like a word.”

He growls, “The bride and groom can wait their fucking turn. I need a word with my woman first.”

He flips me up into his arms and strides off the dance floor. Over his shoulder, I watch Nat and Sloane embrace as Kage and Declan square off and glare at one another.

The band breaks into a rousing rendition of “We Are Family.”

As if nothing happened, the guests flood back onto the dance floor and start gyrating.

Wow. So that was a gangster wedding.

All in all, I think it went pretty well.