Page 19 of Merciless Union
I grip Arina’s face in my hands. Her eyes flutter close as I lean down and brush a kiss against her lips. I’ve been taught my entire life not to show too much emotion. I can’t have my men see my desire to consume Arina’s lips in a deep kiss. So, a peck is all I give her. For now.
I pull away, and Arina’s eyes open.
She’s mine.
I hold my arm out for her, which she slowly takes. The guests cheer as we walk down the aisle.
The doors burst open, and I pause, causing Arina to stumble next to me.
Alexei is standing there, completely disheveled. “What did I miss?” His words are slurred. He squints at us. “No, no. Go back. I didn’t get to see the wedding.”
Anger courses through me. People exchange amused and concerned glances. No one should find me amusing or concerning. I can’t risk people talking about my family behind our backs.
Fucking Alexei.
I grip Arina’s arm tighter, only easing up when she winces. I walk past Alexei and guide Arina to the reception hall.
“Are you going to do something?” she whispers.
I shake my head. “If my brother is intent on embarrassing this family, he can stand there and look like the fool he is.”
She stares at me for a moment before nodding and looking away.
We take our seats at the head of the table in the reception hall as the other guests spill in. My mother takes her seat beside me, followed by Elena and Kira. Arina’s parents sit next to her.
Alexei stumbles into the room as the servers pass out plates of food and comes up to our table. “I’m sorry, Maxim.”
“We’ll discuss your stupidity later,” I snap. I jerk my head toward Kira. “Take a seat.”
He grumbles under his breath but does as I instruct him to do.
“Has he … been drinking?” Arina asks.
I turn my glare onto her. “What do you think?”
She flinches, casting her gaze to the table. “I was just asking.”
“Well, don’t ask questions you already know the answer to.”
She inhales deeply before lifting her head. “You’re my husband now.”
“Yes, and you’re my wife.”
“Maxim … do you even like me?” Her words come out as a whisper.
Her words pull me up short. I look down at her. “I like you well enough. You’re polite, your beautiful, and you’ll look good on my arm. What more is there?”
She clenches the table cloth in her hands. “So, I’m a trophy to you?”
I lean in close to her, saying into her ear, “And nothing more. I need your father’s loyalty. You’re just an added bonus.” I pull back. I’m not going to lie to her, even though I know my words are cruel. It’s the truth, and she deserves that.
Her face scrunches up. “Well, I’m glad to know that. This way, I won’t ever possibly fall in love with you.”
My lips twitch. “Where did you even get the idea of love in the first place?”
“Mr. Petrov, congratulations,” a man says, approaching the table. Stepan Pasternak. Fuck, this guy even looks like a weasel. I don’t trust his overtly gracious act. He did it at the funeral, and he’s doing it again here.
“Thank you, Stepan,” I reply.
