Chapter 144 147

Chapter 144 147
His eyes barely narrow, but that’s all I needed to see. Olivia seems to shrink beside me.

“Oh, God,” she mutters.

“Calm down, moya zhena,” I say. I still have her hand trapped in mine. “It’s a wedding. Just enjoy yourself.”

“I didn’t enjoy my own wedding,” she hisses. “Why should this be any different?”

I ignore the comment as the bridal march starts to play. Fabric rustles throughout the ballroom as all eyes turn to the back.

The bride’s procession is even grander than the groom’s. It starts off with flower girls scampering down the aisle, casting petals everywhere they can reach. After them comes a fleet of bridesmaids decked out in varying shades of pastel purple.

Finally, at the burgeoning crescendo of the music, the bride arrives on the arm of her stoic brother.

“You think he’d muster up a smile for this,” I drawl.

“He’s got a lot on his mind,” Olivia snaps. “Leave him alone.”

Mia doesn’t notice either one of us as they pass, but Rob sure as hell does. He almost comes to a standstill. It’s Mia who urges him forward without bothering to check what snagged his attention.

I lean back in my seat, smugly pleased. Hargrove was right about one thing: everything is going according to plan.

The problem for him is, the plan is mine.

The ceremony proceeds smoothly after that, though it goes on for-fucking-ever. The priest gives a sermon and then there are vows and promises to be made. I have to resist the urge to yawn numerous times.

When Donald starts in on his vows, I groan audibly. Olivia elbows me in the side.

“That was a little aggressive.”

“Good,” she hisses. “It was meant to be. Have some respect.”

“For that son of a bitch?” I scoff. “Not likely.”

“For the sanctity of marriage, if nothing else.”

A burst of laughter almost escapes my lips, but I manage to hold it back just in time.

Olivia glares daggers at me. “Marriage is sacred. And thanks to you, I was robbed of it.”

“Well, this isn’t exactly the event to turn things around for you. That man’s vows mean nothing,” I whisper to her. “He’s a liar. Whatever he promises now, he’ll break later.”

“For my sister’s sake, I hope not.”

The ceremony finally ends. Mia and Hargrove are declared husband and wife. They kiss like they mean it and cheers fill up the massive hall.

Everything happens in reverse. The couple are led through doors at the back of the room and out into the reception hall. The wedding party follows. Then, row by row, the attendees proceed after them.

“Let’s get out of here,” Olivia says, grabbing my arm and trying to pull me in the opposite direction of the crowd.

“Get out of here?” I ask. “We haven’t congratulated the bride and groom yet.”

“We don’t need to. I already spoke to Mia before the ceremony. There’s no need to stay.”

“Embarrassed to be seen with me, wife?” I ask.

She glares, but I ignore her and pull her into the reception hall. She nearly trips over her heels, but she comes with me, trying and failing to control the discontent on her face.

There are lots of famous, important people at the ceremony. Like a gossip magazine come to life. But if Olivia is impressed, she gives no impression of it. She looks like she’d rather be anywhere else on the entire fucking planet.

“Ah, there they are.”

She spins around and plants herself in front of me. “What are you playing at, Aleks?”

Before I can speak, she adds, “Stop smiling at me like that.”

“I can’t help it, kiska. You make me smile.”

Her nose wrinkles in confusion. “I don’t know if you’re just screwing with me or if you’ve suffered blunt force trauma to the head, and honestly, I don’t care. I don’t want you pretending like we’re some happy couple.”

“If Mr. and Mrs. Hargrove can do it, why not us?”

“Aleks, for the love of God, please just tell me why.”

I sigh. Fine. If she wants answers, I’ll give them to her. But she is certainly not going to like them.

“Isn’t it obvious? There’s going to be major publicity when we leave this reception.”

Her face screws up in concentration. “And?”

“And once it becomes common knowledge that Aleksandr Makarova is brother-in-law to Donald Hargrove, anything that hits me negatively will affect him, too.”

She frowns, trying to follow my line of thought. “But—”

“The shit he’s trying to pin on me is big, Olivia. Guilty by association is a thing, you know. Especially since powerful men tend to protect each other’s secrets. He wants to take me down? Well, it’s not going to be that simple.”

“Have you even thought about my sister?”

I raise my eyebrows. “She didn’t really think about you, did she?”

“As if you care about my feelings.”

I lean in until my lips brush against her ear. “Maybe I do, Olivia. Maybe I care more than you’ve ever even begun to realize. Maybe I—”

I glance up at that moment and make eye contact with none other than Hargrove.

So be it. The sweet nothings will have to wait for another time.

“Come on,” I say, taking advantage of her temporary state of shock. “Time to say hello to the stars of the show.”

I stride forward swiftly. “Congratulations!” I announce loudly so that all the people around us are sure to hear.

Then I lean in and hug the bride. Mia is so stunned she hasn’t wiped the smile off her face yet.

Olivia has turned an attractive shade of pink, but she doesn’t apologize for my bombast like I expect her to. She just stands next to me, looking as awkward as ever.

Hargrove gives me a seemingly sincere smile. He even adds a little laugh at the end to make it convincing for everyone watching on.

The photographers hover around, taking candids at every possible moment. Hargrove’s fake smile stays plastered to his face.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Makarova?” he growls through gritted teeth, making sure his mask doesn’t falter. Up close, it makes him look deranged. But then again, that suits him.

“Just came to wish my sister-in-law and her husband a happy wedding day,” I explain lightly. “We are family, after all.”

“You are not our fucking family.”

“Breathe, darling,” Mia hisses, gripping his arm tightly. “This is not the time nor the place.”

I sense Olivia stiffen beside me. Her hand falls across my arm, but it’s gentle. More like she’s pleading with me, rather than angry at the situation.