Page 99 of Sadistic

"On it. Do you want me to bring her back?"

"No. Just... watch her. Let her cool down."

"Understood."

I hang up, run my hands through my hair.

She's right—I should have discussed it with her.

But old habits die hard, and I'm used to making decisions alone.

My phone rings. Mum.

The second I answer, she’s snapping at me. "What did you do?"

"Why do you assume I did something?"

"Because you're calling me at—wait, I called you. Because Rhiannon texted saying Revna looked ready to commit murder when she left your building."

"I invited Bembe Reyes to the wedding."

Silence greets me for a few moments. "You invited a cartel leader to your wedding without discussing it with your bride?"

"It's strategic?—"

"It's stupid." Her voice is sharp. "Doran, that girl has already given up her choice in husband, her normal life, her freedom to choose. And you couldn't even give her a say in the guest list?"

"When you put it like that?—"

"How else should I put it? You're treating her like she’s an asset to you and not a person."

"That's not?—"

"It is. You’d better fix this." She sighs. "Where is she now?"

"I don't know. I have Mikhail following her."

"Of course you do. More surveillance instead of communication."

"What should I do?"

"Apologize. Actually apologize, not that thing you do where you explain why you were right."

"But I am right. The Bembe invitation?—"

"May be strategically sound but emotionally idiotic. Your bride should matter more than strategy."

"She does?—"

"Then act like it. And Doran? Whatever you do, don't send some half-assed gift with a clever note. She needs sincerity, not gestures."

She hangs up, leaving me thinking about what just happened.

I pace my penthouse, checking my phone every few minutes for updates from Mikhail.

She's driving. Seems upset but safe.

Then:

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