Scandalous Prince (Mafia Royals 2)

And without warning, an old gold crown encrusted in rubies was placed on my head, and a smaller version placed on hers.

It was heavier than I remembered.

Older.

“I now pronounce you, man and wife, king and queen!” the priest shouted as everyone shouted back in Russian that I knew Violet wouldn’t understand.

“Kiss the bride!” The shouts got louder and louder, some in English most in Russian.

I turned her terrified body toward me and pressed a chaste kiss to her mouth even though I wanted to do more.

My heart fell when she didn’t respond.

Then again, what did I expect?

To her, I was a monster.

A liar.

Her husband.

And inside, I was broken beyond repair because, in my heart of hearts, I doubted her kiss would fix this. Instead, the touch of her mouth just reminded me of everything I’d lost over the years.

Including a chance at winning her love.

Chapter Ten

Emotional pain, walks with me through the day, and sleeps with me through the night, leaving me depleted with no strength to fight. Anger for not having the courage to turn things around, keeping me anchored to this remorse, not able to untie the chains and change my course. False pride rules supreme,

always there to whisper in my ear.

Time, wasted and badly spent, lots of hurt, lots to repent.

Solace, please come and calm my soul, for this is what I need to make me whole.

Empathy, what I need is for someone to see, someone to see the real me.

Love with no strings, just giving generously amongst other things.

Words, when used as a weapon can cut like a knife,

capable of doing so much damage and take the joy out of life, but softly spoken and softly expressed can bring so much happiness. —Charlene Valladares

Violet

I never imagined my wedding going this way, holding a rough warm hand while I sipped a shot of vodka and watched people dance in front of us like entertainment in an old royal court.

“You’re tired,” Valerian said to my right without even turning to look at me and gauge if it was even true.

I swallowed more gross vodka and winced. “I’m fine.”

“You hate vodka.”

He said it like he was amused.

I sighed. “I prefer wine.”

“Italians.” He smirked. “Though I tend to agree… vodka seems…” His voice had a small Russian lilt to it, and he only seemed to slip into it when he was amused or emotional. “It seems harsh.”

“True.” I examined him while he watched everyone dance, sipping his own glass of Vodka like it was water. He was constantly alert, and always in shadows, from his hood to the nearly full mask, all I could see was his mouth. I desperately wanted to see more, to ask all the questions, to demand an apology even though he technically had saved me in the only way he knew how.

By taking me as his own.

“Come on.” He stood and helped me from my chair; my dress was so heavy I imagined my neck would be sore from pulling the giant cape and train behind me. “Let’s go to bed.”

I didn’t mean to freeze.

“Not here, moya lyubov.”

I hesitated then locked onto his vivid green eyes. “What does that mean?”

He hesitated at first and then whispered in a gruff voice, “Mine. My love.”

I gulped and reached for his mask. Moving so fast he was a blur, he grabbed my wrists and pulled my hands down to my sides, pinning them there. “Don’t you want to get comfortable? Besides, you’ve hardly eaten a thing. I’ll order food up once we’re settled in our room.”

Had I been walking, I would have tripped.

Our room?

So that wasn’t my room?

But ours?

Panic seized my lungs as I walked arm and arm with him, past Nikolai and his wife as they raised their wine glasses to us and smiled like everything had worked out perfectly when clearly it hadn’t.

I was the princess, promised the perfect ending only to end up with the wrong person, in the wrong city, in the wrong story altogether!

And now, the man who had taken it all from me would take it again, and again, demand it of his queen as was his right.

I was dying for my phone.

To update Breaker.

To ask why he wasn’t here objecting.

To demand he say something—anything.

I even hoped at one point one of the bosses, my dad especially, would barge in and put a stop to it.

But it was hopeless.

Because they had no clue, I was up here getting freaking married instead of studying under Nikolai.

It was a good opportunity, according to my dad, and kept me safe from the De Lange Family, who was still lurking in Chicago with the need for all our heads.

He had no idea that I had exchanged danger for a pit of serpents our family mildly tolerated on a good day.

Valerian led me back into our shared room. I let out a gasp right away. There were candles everywhere; the lights were off so I could barely see anything other than the small flames of all sizes that lined the dresser, the fireplace mantle, and the large framed windows to the west. Even the bathroom had them, all shapes and sizes, several smells that reminded me of the woods and being by a campfire.