Chapter 189 189

Chapter 189 189
“The Greeks look at everyone like that,” I tell her. “And I’m positive you look incredible. Go find Christo. He’ll take care of you until I get there.”

“Which will be when, precisely?”

I check my watch. “Fifteen minutes.”

She sighs. “Fine. Did you give Arslan my gift?”

I pat the inner pocket of my jacket. “Oh, shit. No. But I will.”

“You’re a good friend,” she says, a smile in her voice. “I’ll see you soon.”

I hang up and pull out Belle’s gift. The liquor bottle is so small I almost forgot about it. I pop the lid and dump the shot out on the velvety grass. “God, you would have really liked Belle, man. She got you a better gift than I did and she barely knew you.”

The alcohol soaks into the ground. There will probably be a brown spot in the grass, but I know Arslan wouldn’t care.

I push up to standing, slap the headstone lightly, and then head back to the car idling along the curb. I’m a few feet away when the driver door swings open and my dad runs around the back of the car.

“I told you,” I sigh, “you don’t have to keep opening the door for me.”

He pulls the door open and stands tall. “It’s what drivers do, isn’t it? And I’m your driver.”

“Yes, I’m aware. It’s been almost a year now. And none of my other drivers have ever bothered. It’s really not necessary.”

My dad shrugs. “Just wanna make sure I’m earning my keep, son. The Zhukova men are no freeloaders.”

I roll my eyes and slide into the back seat. He closes the door behind me and heads around to the driver’s side.

On the night Xena shot me, my dad ran into Christo and my outfit of men outside of the warehouse. The few contacts he still had in the underworld told him that Belle and I might be in trouble, so he showed up to help.

While I was recovering, Belle and I agreed to hire him to help drive me to doctor’s appointments and help out after surgeries. Eventually, the job became permanent. Now, I give him a salary to help him stay off the streets and away from his vices, and he drives me where I need to go.

It’s not a normal father-son relationship. But it’s something.

When the car pulls along the curb in front of the hotel, I climb out before my dad can open the door. But he still meets me at the back of the car.

“Will you need me to drive you to the airport tonight?” he asks. “I don’t mind. It would actually make me feel better to know you’re getting there safely.”

“Christo arranged for rides for all of the guests. There’s an open bar, so…”

“And you trust him?” It’s a blunt question. Most people would tiptoe around it, not daring to even look like they might be questioning my judgment. But my father doesn't like to mince words these days. It's one thing I admire about him.

"I wouldn't let my wife be inside by herself if I didn't,” I say. "Plus, Christo saved my life. He helped me eradicate what was left of the Battiatos. And the last year, with the Simatou mafia under his leadership, has been peaceful. We are allies.”

My dad bows his head. "Enough said. If you trust him, then so do I. Text me when you are on the plane, please. If you don’t mind."

I nod and he ducks back into the car and pulls away.

When I turn towards the hotel, I'm stopped dead in my tracks by the most beautiful woman I've ever seen.

"Don't look at me like that," Belle snaps, waving her finger at my face. "Don't give me that sexy smolder and assume I'll forgive you for being late. I've been making small talk in there for half an hour, Mr. ‘Fifteen Minutes.’"

She moves down the steps towards me. Her champagne-colored dress shimmers in the ambient lighting, flowing over her curves like water. Her hair is pinned behind one ear with luscious waves tumbling over her shoulders.

"You're a goddess," I murmur, grabbing her waist and pulling her against me.

She lets me kiss her lips and then presses a finger to my chest. "Then I smite you."

"Consider me smote."

She bends back and narrows her eyes. “You shouldn’t look so happy when you’re in bad standing with a goddess.”

“You’re right,” I say with all seriousness. “Getting back in good standing is of the utmost importance. We should probably leave right now so I can do everything humanly possible to please you.”

Belle’s hazel eyes burn and her skin flushes. It’s clear she wants this as much as I do. We’ve both been insatiable the last couple months. Belle was so uncomfortable in the third trimester of pregnancy, and then there was the recovery once Inessa was born, and then the sleepless nights with Inessa crying.

We’re only just getting back into a rhythm with each other. We have a lot of making up to do.

Still, Belle tows me towards the hotel’s front steps. “It’ll have to wait,” she decides. “It would look bad if you didn’t show your support for Christo.”

“He’s been leading the Greeks for a year,” I retort, nuzzling her neck from behind. She smells like lavender as I press a kiss against her quickening pulse. “This is just the bullshit formal ceremony to make it official. He won’t miss us.”

Belle pushes me away gently. “Would you really want to risk the peace you’ve created for a quickie in the backseat of a car on the way to the airport?”

“That is exactly what I want, yes.”

She laughs, unable to hold it back. Then she loops her arm through mine. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You’re gorgeous,” I say, draping her hand over my forearm.

“You’re incorrigible,” she whispers back as we near the front doors.

The doorman stands to attention, but his eyes drag over Belle in her gown for a moment too long. I drop her arm and slide my hand around her waist instead, pulling her tightly against my side. “And you’re mine.”

Her lips press into a tight knot, fighting against her smile. “Am I? I think I’ve forgotten. As soon as the ceremony is over, maybe you can remind me. From behind.”

I bite down on my knuckle. “Do you want peace between us and the Greeks or not? Because I am dangerously close to carrying you out of here and making you make all my favorite noises.”

Belle just laughs and pulls me into the crowd.

The babysitter is already on the plane when Belle and I arrive.

“Inessa went down like a dream,” she informs us. “She’ll sleep for a few hours, I’m sure. So now that you’re here, I’m going to go sleep, too, if that’s okay?”

Belle waves her on. “Of course. That’s the benefit of getting the jet with the private rooms. We can actually relax.”

“Because we won’t relax enough in Iceland,” I chuckle.