Chapter 2 An unwelcome guest

• ADRIKO’S POV
• The presence of Viktor set off warning bells in my head.
• The air felt thick, like a volcano was teetering beneath the surface.
• My hand twitched, itching for the familiar weight of my gun in my pocket, but I couldn't make a scene…at least not yet.
• His lips curve into a slow, sly smile as he strides forward, his gait too casual, too confident for a man walking into the lion's den.
• I know it is a strategy.
• Viktor never acted without a plan.
• “Adrik, I hope I’m not late? I couldn't miss the history-making occasion,” he said as a mocking smile spread across his face.
• Seeing that look on his face took me back to memories I’d rather not dwell on, of deals gone wrong and bonds broken.
• He had always challenged my authority and questioned my decisions.
• We hadn't crossed paths since I left Russia, but this—him here now—was a veiled threat.
• “You weren't invited,” I snapped, my tone sharp enough to slice through butter.
• Serafina’s gaze moved between Viktor and me. Her eyes were sharp with curiosity. I could see the wheels turning in her head.
• “Oh, but I was,” he retorted, his mocking smile widening. “Irina, dear, asked that I be her plus one.”
• “Irina?” I frowned, giving my sister a questioning look.
• She looked at me, her expression one of innocence. “I ran into him at the airport, brother,” she mumbled with a shrug. “I didn't realize you two were still…at odds.”
• I raised a brow at her carefree tone, a flare of irritation shooting through me.
• At odds? That was a light way to put it. “And you thought it was best not to seek my permission first?” "I ground out," my voice laced with warning.
• Irina sighed, "It's a celebration, Adrik. Can we not do this now? The guests are waiting for you and Serafina inside,” she pleaded.
• “Yes, Adrik, it is a happy day after all. Loosen up a bit.” Viktor chuckled, glancing at Serafina beside me.
• I took a step towards him. “Leave. Now.”
• He didn't make a move; his eyes glittered with amusement.
• When his gaze returned to Serafina, she straightened, the smallest trace of discomfort crossing her face, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared, which made me question if I had imagined it.
• “Congratulations on the wedding, Mrs. Ivanova,” he sneered. “I look forward to seeing how long this ... truce lasts.”
• His smile lingered as he turned on his heel and retreated into the shadows, disappearing into the darkness beyond the courtyard.
• As the silence settled over us, I turned back to Irina, who glanced away guiltily.
• “Let this be the first and last time this happens,” I warned.
• Her gaze fell, her hands toying with the hem of her dress. “I didn't think it would be a big deal, brother.” She grumbled defensively, but I caught the edge of guilt in it. “I’m sorry.”
• My jaw tightened as I watched her turn and walk into the reception hall, leaving me standing there with Serafina at my side.
• “Who was that?” Serafina asked in barely concealed curiosity.
• “None of your concern,” I replied curtly, not wanting to divulge information to her.
• This was the daughter of my enemy, not a love interest. I couldn't afford to lose my guard.
• “Two shall become one; wasn’t that what the priest said?” she teased. “We are married now, so it is my concern.”
• I turned to her, my height forcing her to tilt her head to meet my gaze.
• “Do you always stick your nose where it doesn't belong, Mrs. Ivanova?”
• Her glare didn't waver. “Do you always evade questions when you are cornered, Mr. Ivanov?”
• For a moment, I was torn between irritation and an unwilling flicker of amusement.
• She had fire and a smart mouth.
• I never expected that when I had agreed to this truce. I had the impression that she was going to be timid.
• But I was wrong.
• Loud hum of voices and laughter from the reception spilled out into the courtyard, interrupting my line of thought.
• It was a reminder of the happy facade we were supposed to be presenting.
• The facade of a newlywed couple.
• “Let’s go,” I respond, ignoring her jab. “We’ve wasted enough time out here.”
• *************
• Conversations flowed smoothly among the guests as Champagne glasses were being refilled and passed around by the waiters.
• Serafina is seated beside me, observing the room with a guarded look as she fiddles with her hands on her lap, the lone wedding band glittering.
• Staring at her ring finger, I am suddenly reminded of her earlier comment, which prompts me to lean toward her, my breath brushing against her ear.
• “Where is it?” I ask in genuine curiosity.
• She looks up at me, startled. “Where’s what?” Her brows furrowed in confusion.
• “The engagement ring,” I demanded, my head tilting to her fingers. “Did you leave it behind on purpose?”
• “No, it's gone,” she hissed, her chin tilting up in defiance.
• “Gone?” I ask as my brow arches. “A ring doesn't just disappear, Mrs. Ivanova.”
• She rolls her eyes. “A ring isn’t a chain, Mr. Ivanov. I didn't see the need to keep it.”
• My jaw clenched in annoyance. “It isn't just a ring, Serafina; it was custom-made and a symbol of an alliance. One I suggest you wear.”
• She glares at me. “Why would I do that? I didn't ask for the alliance.”
• “You may not have, but you went along with it like a good little pawn,” I counter, my voice sharp and cutting, with the intent to hurt.
• For a moment we stared each other down, neither of us ready to back down. I use that moment to look at her. I haven't done that since the ceremony.
• Her doe eyes pulled me in—soft, wide, and quietly defiant. That auburn hair… it was the most striking shade I’d ever seen, and I had this maddening urge to free it from its styled prison and thread my fingers through every wave. Her lips—full, plump, and curved into a pout of resistance—were a masterpiece of temptation.
• She doesn’t even realize she does it, but I caught her nibbling on her lower lip earlier during the vows. And now—damn—she’s doing it again. I have to grip the arms of my chair just to stop myself from yanking her into my lap and ravaging that mouth in front of the entire room.
• Fuck! She was beautiful.
• With a scoff, she tore her gaze from mine like she hadn’t just lit my body on fire. I had to adjust myself subtly, trying to hide the unmistakable tent in my pants before she noticed what she’d done to me with nothing but a look.
• “Ladies and gentlemen, please make room for the newlyweds as they have their first dance.” The MC speaks as the music shifts to a soft romantic melody.
• I look at Serafina with a smirk. “Shall we?”
• “Do I have a choice?” she muttered.
• “Not tonight,” I chuckled, taking her outstretched hand and leading her onto the dance floor. She hesitated, but I pulled her flush against me anyway, ignoring the subtle resistance in her body.
• Her dress clung to every curve like it was made for her. Elegant, dangerous, exquisite. She glowed under the dim lights, radiant in a way that made it hard to look anywhere else.
• I drew her closer than necessary, my hand settling on the small of her back. The fabric was soft beneath my fingers, but I couldn’t help but wonder if her skin would feel even softer.
• She squirmed lightly in my hold, and the movement jolted me out of my wandering thoughts.
• I glanced down at her.
• “Relax,” I said, with a tone of authority. “It’s a dance, not a battlefield.”
• Her grey eyes lifted to mine. “But it feels like one,” she mumbled.
• A small smile tugged at my lips. “Only because you insist on defying me at every turn, Mrs. Ivanova.”
• Her brows knit into a frown. She looked like she wanted to argue, but at the last second, she swallowed the words.
• I twirled her slowly, savoring the brief flicker of vulnerability in her eyes before she turned away.
• I followed her gaze and saw her father.
• He stood in the far corner of the ballroom, nursing a glass of champagne while in deep conversation with Don Marco. To anyone else, it might have looked like a harmless conversation.
• To me? It was two predators circling each other, each pretending to have laid down their claws.
• My gaze lingered on the architect of this bloody mess—Vincenzo Vitale. The war between our families had started because of him. His greed and double-crossing, his hunger for expansion into territories that weren’t his to touch. He’d underestimated the Russians and underestimated me.
• This wedding had been their version of a cease-fire. One that I had agreed to because it fueled my future plans.
• I looked down at Serafina; I knew it was time to exit. I had played my part enough for one day. Her attention had shifted to her friend and the housekeeper. I gave her hips a light squeeze to pull her back to me. She blinked, eyes snapping to mine.
• “It’s time to go,” I said. “Say your goodbyes.”
• She nodded, slipping out of my arms and making her way toward them.
• I turned toward the ballroom’s exit and signaled to Sergei. He caught the movement and disappeared into the crowd, our signal to start clearing the perimeter.
• I had dismissed some of my men and the chauffeur earlier. I wanted to drive myself tonight. I needed control.
• Serafina joined me moments later, and we walked side by side into the warm night, towards the Rolls Royce Phantom.
• The shrill ringing of my phone cuts through the night air.
• I pulled it from my jacket and stared at it. It was an unknown number. My thumb hovered over the screen for a beat before I answered.
• The voice on the other end was low and distorted. “Watch your steps, Ivanov. You both are targets now.”
• The line went dead.
• I stared at the phone, the screen fading to black as a chill crept down my spine.