“Not the right people,” he replied, liking this side of her very much.
“You’re a monster,” she whispered furiously.
She tensed when Maxim leaned in close to her ear. Sofia let out a cute little gasp when he traced her earlobe with his tongue. He pressed a kiss to the side of her neck, right where her pulse point lay, and she gripped his arm, seemingly unsure if she would tell Maxim to back off or to continue.
“Be careful of throwing that word around, wife. I don’t mind hearing it from your lips, but if my brother ever heard you calling me that, well, it would not bode well for you,” Maxim said.
“What happens now?” Sofia whispered, quickly changing the topic. “Should we tell the guests to go home? What about the police?”
“Let me handle the police. They’re of no concern. As for what happens next? Well, we have a wedding reception to go to,” Maxim replied.
Sofia stared at him like he was crazy. “Are you serious, Maxim? I don’t think anyone would have an appetite after this,” she argued.
“I never joke,” Maxim reassured her. “And I always mean what I say. It’s best you learn that early, wife.”
She cringed at that last word. Maxim tipped her chin with two fingers.
“Wife. You don’t enjoy hearing that word?” Maxim asked her. “I don’t have to remind you that the moment we exchanged our vows, you became mine. My property. Every inch of you. Body, heart, and soul.”
A lesser woman would’ve fled, but Sofia stood her ground. She shuddered. In revulsion or secret pleasure, Maxim couldn’t tell, at least not right away.
Maxim intended to know all of her secrets and desires soon. It didn’t bother him that his new wife hated him with every fiber of her being.
Sofia Bianchi was now Sofia Semenov, and she would never be rid of him unless some opportunist successfully killed Maxim off.
If that happened, she would soon follow, because Maxim had no doubts his enemies would be thorough. They would turn everything Maxim built to ash because Maxim would do the same in their shoes.
“Maxim, Sofia, I am glad to see both of you are alive,” Lorenzo said, approaching them.
Sofia looked at her father, silently assessing him. Despite their uneasy relationship, Maxim could tell some part of Sofia did care for her father.
That was the difference between Maxim and his wife. Sofia was still capable of caring, of showing kindness. Maxim’s wealth and power attracted scores of women to him in the past, but they never lingered. Few could ultimately stand being with Maxim for long.
Sofia could be the light to all of Maxim’s darkness, but the darkness within him always consumed everything in its path. How long, Maxim idly wondered, until Sofia gave up on him, too?
“Unfortunately, the photographer will need to be told we will take the wedding photos at the hotel,” Maxim told Lorenzo.
“The reception, of course,” Lorenzo said with a tired nod.
The bastard didn’t even spare his daughter a second glance. Maxim didn’t understand why Lorenzo’s disregard for Sofia irritated him.
Then again, who was Maxim to judge?
A better and more understanding husband would allow his wife to retreat to the comfort and safety of her home after a shooting. Too bad Maxim was not that husband.
While Lorenzo made an announcement to the wary guests that the wedding festivities would continue at the oldest hotel in the city, Maxim glanced at his fidgeting bride.
“What do you need?” he asked her.
“I want to change out of this dratted dress, and this.”
Sofia took off the diamond tiara and handed it back to him. He looked at the gift, frowning and not understanding.
“If you’re planning on getting me jewelry, next time, ask for my input first. This tiara is hideous beyond belief,” Sofia said.
So Sofia liked to hide all her fears, her uncertainties under all that snark? Instead of fighting Maxim about his decision to continue the wedding festivities, she was actually working with him.
Maxim smiled and handed the tiara to a passing associate.
“Very well, I will keep that in mind,” Maxim told his new wife.