Broken Crown (Mafia Royals 5)

I jerk away. “Do you want me to kill you tonight? Asking for a friend.”

He laughs. “You could try…”

“I hate you sometimes.” But I also love him. And I also smile a real smile.

“There it is.” He shoves me again. “Don’t be a bitch; nobody wants to sleep with someone who’s sad.”

The dance ends.

She looks up at me, then turns.

I’m ready to walk toward her to ask her to dance when Roman comes up behind her, grasping her elbow and whispering something in her ear.

I clench my teeth then realize I did this. He’s her bodyguard, so if there’s a threat, that’s his actual job, to keep her safe.

“Relax,” Maksim says next to me. “Want me to follow them?” They’re already heading outside.

“Nah.” I pat him on the back. “Thanks for the pep talk, but I’ve got this. We need to go in a few anyway.”

Yay, gotta start that super awesome honeymoon.

I swear it feels like an anvil is literally stuck in my chest.

I breathe in and out, calm, even breaths.

I can do this.

Maksim salutes me, and then I’m off to follow my wife and the love of her life out into the starry night.

Damn.

I shove open the doors to the hotel ballroom and frown. They clearly haven’t gone outside because I would have seen them walking. A waiter’s walking toward me.

“Hey, man,” I say. “Did you see the bride go somewhere out here?”

“Oh yeah, they went that way.” He points down the hall and then walks past me, holding a tray of cocktails.

I follow where he pointed. The hallway’s pretty dark, and it looks like it goes farther into the convention center of the hotel. I pass the bathrooms on the right and then stop when I see her.

She’s beautiful pressed up against the wall with Roman’s mouth so close to hers I feel like I’m going to be sick.

She shakes her head at him; he presses his body against hers, and everything in me just fucking snaps.

Because what the hell? He couldn’t at least wait until after the wedding night? After the honeymoon? Does he not fucking realize what he gets out of this? A job. Money.

But most important.

He gets her.

While I most likely have a price on my head the rest of my life, wishing I could share the burden of what I do with someone who looks at me the way she looks at him.

She lightly shoves his chest.

I walk toward them.

I’m done.

“At least let her be mine for seven days before you take her for the rest of her life. Before you get her pregnant. Before you kiss her goodnight. Before you get old and gray—you owe me, as your fucking Capo, to at least give me my seven days.” I say it in a ruthless voice that shocks even me.

Roman jerks away so fast he almost falls on his ass. “I’m sorry, sir, you’re right. She just looked so pretty—”

“I fucking know what she looks like,” I say in a lethal tone. “And you will respect me on my wedding day. I can easily assign someone else as her bodyguard. Don’t tempt me.”

He can’t even meet my gaze. “Sorry, sir. You’re absolutely correct.”

“I know,” I mutter. “Don’t patronize me.” I hold out my hand to Del. “I think it’s time to go before you’re tempted to sleep with the wrong man tonight.”

She flinches.

And I hear a slight curse fall from Roman’s mouth.

Good, let him be just as miserable as I was watching them nearly kiss and touch on the day I gave my life to everyone in order to keep them safe only to have nothing to show for it but a bride who’s currently looking at my hand like it’s poison.

I hate this.

Sometimes, I just wish she would pretend.

Our friendship used to be that, just a friendship, it was good, it was easier than things are now. But then things shifted, and I can’t go back to the way things were with her.

You can’t do that when you fall in love with someone. It’s like taking back every breath you’ve taken for every year you’ve lived and loved.

Impossible.

Her skin is pale. She takes my hand. We leave Roman and walk past the ballroom. I don’t feel the need to tell anyone anything. My phone and wallet are in my pocket, and my Ferrari is with the valet.

Both of our bags are already packed and in the car.

I don’t say anything to her, just hand the valet my ticket. She shivers next to me. I take off my coat and wrap it around her shoulders, wishing my hands could linger against her skin. I pull back.

Within minutes my car roars up, and I’m helping her into her side. I look back at the hotel and see my own breath in front of my face. Great, I’m hyperventilating already.