“I need a minute.”
He clued back into the conversation with interest. Rose sounded frazzled as fuck. Good. She cursed when her sisters tried to question her. “Just a fucking minute, okay. Just…I’ll be out when it’s time to walk down the aisle. I just need to get my head on straight.”
Dante grinned. Damn, she really was making this easy on him, wasn’t she? He slid behind a tree with direct view of the door in time to see a cluster of women leave. There was Anya, the likeliest owner of the cold voice, and Sasha and Lorelei, women who could have been twins, with their plump bodies and sweet faces. Next came Keira Romanov. He’d seen pictures of her when she was younger, and she used to look nearly identical to Rose with her petite frame, dark hair, and hazel eyes. Time had softened her, thickening her waistline, and smudging her sharp jawline. She was still a beauty, though.
Last came one of Rose’s aunts on her mother’s side, Carrigan O’Malley. She had to be sixty, but she still strode like she was walking on a runway. This was a woman who owned every space she strode into. A woman who was dangerous. She turned a sharp gaze on the trees, and he moved back into the shadows, holding his breath until she turned and headed for the church.
Keira motioned to the enforcer near the corner of the building. “Escort her to the church when she’s ready.” She looped her arm through her sister’s, and they disappeared into the growing darkness.
Dante waited thirty long seconds before he moved. He tossed a rock in the opposite direction. Predictably, the enforcer turned toward the sound. It was the last thing he did. Dante rushed up behind him, pressed his gun to the man’s back, and pulled the trigger twice. The silencer did its work, and the man barely got a gurgle out before he collapsed. Dante eased the body to the ground, took a moment to straighten his cuffs, and typed out a quick text to his driver.
Now.
It was time to go get his girl.
He didn’t bother to knock. He just opened the door and stepped into the suite. It was a fucking mess. Makeup and clothes were scattered across every available surface. It looked like a bomb of girly shit had gone off. And in the middle of the chaos stood Rose herself.
“I said I need—” She looked up and met his gaze in the full-length mirror in front of her. She was wearing the same dress she’d tried on three times at the fancy little shop, the one that hugged her curves and looked like someone had spilled diamonds over her body. Her dark hair was styled up, leaving her long neck exposed. She even had a fucking veil pinned.
Dante didn’t like it. No, that was too mild. He fucking loathed it.
She turned slowly to face him, and he raised his gun. “Move slowly, Rose. Don’t try to go for that gun in the drawer.”
“Seems you’re familiar with the place.” She lifted her hands slowly, which only served to show off the dress even more. Christ, she was flawless. A perfect body, a gorgeous face, and ice water running in her veins. If the circumstances were any different, he’d enjoy this moment immensely.
But Rose wasn’t dressed to perfection to walk down the aisle to him.
The thought of Romeo fucking Capparelli peeling this dress off her body had Dante seeing red. “What the fuck were you thinking choosing this one?” He motioned at the offending garment. “Do you want every man in that place to picture fucking you?”
Her brows winged up. “Half of the men in that place are related to me. But as for the rest?” She shrugged as much as she could with her arms raised. “Why stop with the men?” Her voice was perfectly even and in control, as if she faced down her exes holding guns on her every day. “I don’t know what you’re aiming to accomplish, but it won’t work. If you kill me, you’ll have the entire Romanov family, both stateside and in Mother Russia, gunning for you. Not to mention the Capparellis might decide to stop pussyfooting around and finally stamp out your clan for good.”
He made an impatient motion with the gun, and she flinched. “Turn around, Rosa. Put your hands at the small of your back.”
She considered him for a long moment. “Yeah, I don’t think so.”
“Don’t you d—” He lunged forward as she dove for the gun hidden in the vanity drawer. She was quick, but he was quicker. Dante caught her around the waist and yanked her back against his chest. She started struggling but immediately went still when he pressed his gun to her temple.
Fuck, she smelled good.
He shook his head sharply. Not yet. Patience.