Page 1 of Tales of Obsession Epilogue
Chapter
One
AXEL
A CHRISTMAS WEDDING
“Canyou focus for five fucking minutes, Levi?”
Levi scrolled through his phone, unbothered. “My job is to manage your security and reputation. Not to figure out the seating arrangements at your wedding.”
I gritted my teeth. “Your job is whatever the fuck I say it is. Remember that when you cash in my overpaid checks.”
“You wouldn’t overpay me if I sucked up to you instead of giving it to you straight.”
He had a point. As Piya had so lovingly pointed out, Levi wasn’t just my manager and head of security. He had somehow become a friend. It was an annoying development even I hadn’t seen coming.
“If you’re not going to help, at least find someone who can,” I barked. I glared at the string quartet sawing away at Pachelbel’s Canon while wedding guests in silk dresses and tailored suits took their seats. There were fewer than one hundred people inside the tent, whereas our guest count was six hundred. “Where the hell’s the wedding planner?”
Levi shrugged. “No idea. I only know of Jordan’s whereabouts. We’re working on tomorrow’s headline—Zane Trimalchio, Retired Musician Formerly Known as Axel, Ties the Knot with the Former Mrs. Ambani.”
I scowled at him. He knew the mention of Piya’s previous marriage would piss me off and did it anyway to push my buttons. I was already in a shitty mood. Piya and I were tying the knot today. Legally. The ceremony was taking place inside a heated tent on the beach that ran perpendicular to our home in Sands Point. The reception was inside, and I made the mistake of putting the bar there, too. Most of our guests were in the ballroom getting a drink rather than in the tent watching us get married. Unless five hundred people could be herded to the ceremony in the next five minutes, the wedding would be further delayed, and I had already waited too many fucking years to marry Piya.
“Why the hell did I invite all these people?” I grumbled. If only I hadn’t invited anyone, then I would be (legally) married by now.
“I believe you did it as a final fuck-you to Piya’s first husband,” Levi replied, voice cool as a cucumber. “Ambani invited five hundred guests to their wedding. Naturally, you had to invite six hundred.”
I wanted to break the welcome table over his head. Piya would have calmed me down by now, whereas Levi’s impassive face had the opposite effect. I also wanted to strangle the fucker who created the superstition that it was bad luck to see the bride before the ceremony.
“This is a celebrity wedding.” I tried to mimic his unruffled posture. “A big guest count is expected.”
“Uh-huh. Whatever you need to say to make yourself feel better.”
I tried to scorch him with my eyes. “The guests were supposed to be seated ten minutes ago. Most of them are still inside the house.”
“It’s a Christmas wedding. It gets cold even inside a heated tent, and your guests wanted to warm up with a few drinks.”
“Christmas isn’t for two more days.”
“It’s still the middle of winter.” He waved a hand around the tent. It was decked out in winter-wonderland-theme decorations. “And this is a Christmas wedding if I’ve ever seen one.”
“This is a disaster, is what it is.”
“You’re being dramatic. All weddings run late,” he explained dismissively, smoothing a hand down his black tux. “You can’t rush things because you’re worried Piya will come to her senses and make a run for it again.”
My fists clenched reflexively, and I barely caught myself mid-motion. I wouldn’t be able to get married (legally) if I murdered Levi with this many witnesses to spare. Better to do it after the wedding.
His lips quirked as if he knew exactly what I had plotted for him. “Relax. She won’t run away again.”
I exhaled slowly, my chest tightening. “But what if she does?” It was as close to a confession as I was willing to admit.
He shrugged. “You two always find your way back to each other.”
“That’s not reassuring.”
“Isn’t it, though? She lived the perfect life her parents chose for her and still found her way back to you. She choseyouwith her eyes wide open.”
“She also left me,” I spat out bitterly. I might have been holding on to some bottled-up resentment.
