The Bastard's Betrayal (Scandalous Scions 1)

“This was my mother’s.” He slipped the ring onto Rose’s third finger, easing it slowly on. It was a perfect fit. “It was the only thing of value she kept. The only thing she passed down to me.”

“Dante,” she whispered.

“I think she would have liked you.” Impossible to truly know, but his mother had been strong and doing her best. Surely she would be happy to see him married to a woman who did the same.

Rose’s hands shook as she put his ring on. A perfect fit, which had him raising his brows. “No going back now.”

“There never was.”

The priest cleared his throat. “I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

For once in his life, Dante decided to play it safe and press a mostly chaste kiss to his new bride’s lips. It would be a shame to spend his wedding night bleeding from a bullet wound courtesy of one of his new family members, after all.

They turned to face the room, and while it wasn’t the most joyful reception, no one had their guns or knives out. It would do. Keira Romanov approached first. She pulled Rose into a hug and then moved to him. “I’m sure you’ll be a wonderful husband to my daughter.” She pressed a kiss to each of his cheeks and moved away. A subtle threat, that. Rose must take after Dmitri in that regard.

Sure enough, he was the next to approach. He also hugged Rose and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. Only then did he turn his attention to Dante. “You’re a long way from home, and I have no problem making my daughter a widow if the situation calls for it. Remember that.”

Dante shrugged. “It won’t be necessary.” Normally, he’d bristle at the threat, but his mood was too light at the moment. Her father and the others would come around. He didn’t really give a fuck what they thought of him, but it would upset Rose if he became a wedge between her and her family. He’d won her over; he’d do the same with her parents and sisters. Eventually.

Anya came next, a sleek blond predator dressed in pants and a loose button-down shirt that showed off a slice of her chest. Of the Romanov daughters, she looked the most like Rose, even with the different hair. She squeezed Rose’s hand and eyed Dante. “Watch your back.”

Finally, it was the last sister’s turn. Sasha. She had tear tracks down her pretty face, but he couldn’t tell if they were happy tears or mourning tears. She grabbed his arm, her grip fiercer than he expected. “You keep my sister safe, do you hear me?”

“Sasha.”

He ignored his new wife and focused on her sister. “No one will touch her. I promise.”

She searched his face for a long moment and then nodded. “Good. That’s good.” The barest hesitation and then she released him and moved away.

Just like that, it was finished. No one seemed overeager to linger, which suited Dante just fine. He wanted to be alone with Rose. When she finally took his hand, he marveled to find himself trembling a little. This was really happening. They’d gone too far to turn back now. That was his ring on her finger and hers on his.

Husband. Wife.

She led him out of the sitting room and down a long dark hall to a set of stairs. He should have taken in the details, but he was too focused on her. At least until she opened a door on the second floor and ushered him inside. “I don’t know what living arrangements will look like long term, but we need to stay here in the meantime.”

He stepped into her room and looked around. The room was a treasure chest of Rose. A vanity stood against one wall with an overlarge mirror and every bit of space filled with more makeup than one woman could possibly use, though it looked like she used it regularly. A feat, that. Her bed was large and covered with a lush, deep-green comforter and a scattering of pillows. There appeared to be a sitting area with two chairs, but it was hard to tell beneath two massive piles of clothing. Two doorways led into a walk-in closet and a bathroom with a decent-sized shower and a tub.

Dante walked back into the bedroom. “Your family isn’t going to thank me for whisking you away the first chance I get.”

“No, they won’t.” She searched his face. “But it’s also not going to be comfortable living with them for who knows how long. They’re rather angry with me right now.”

He shrugged. “They’ll get over it. This is your home. I’m not going to take you from it.” She’d be safer here in the coming confrontation, and it also eliminated the risk of someone deciding to undermine her authority because she wasn’t present. No matter how pissed her family was, they loved her. Once they realized he loved her as well, they’d get over it.