The Master (The Game Maker #2)(82)

Polly dashed out like she was taking fire, Rebecca followed her, unsteadily. Jess was right on her tail.

Shortly after, Jess returned to pull me out into the hall. Rebecca was leaning against the wall with a dreamy expression on her face.

“What’s up?” I asked.

In a hushed voice, Jess said, “Natalie does not need to know this, but I might’ve accidentally given her mom the molly I was saving for tonight. You’re officially on Rebecca Is Rolling duty.” She turned to the woman. “See, Becks? Doesn’t everything feel softer now?”

Mierda. “It’s not a problem.” My mantra. On the bright side, the woman’s tears had dried right up!

“Can you take her to the pavilion?”

“On it.”

As I was leading Rebecca away, I heard Natalie say, “Has anybody seen my mom?”

Jess loudly said, “Hot mamí’s with her. They’re already on their way.”

I smiled up at the starry-eyed lady. “We’re almost there, Rebecca. Here we go. We’re turning left—our other left. Okay, muy bien.”

The pavilion was spectacular with its sky-high pitched ceiling, arching rafters, and gleaming wood floor. Peonies, lilies, and lavish orchids graced the area, scenting the air. Past the immense plate-glass windows was a lit courtyard with hanging lanterns reflecting off the snow.

When I found Tom, he took Rebecca’s hand with a frown. She petted his tie.

“Everything okay?” he asked me.

Bob and weave. “She had some champagne?” As I said that she licked his face like a stamp.

Baffled, Tom said, “Uh, Cat, will you please stay with her while I walk Natalie down the aisle?”

“You got it. Not a problem. Rebecca, we’re over here.” I tugged her to the front pew, eventually getting her to sit. I gazed around for anything to keep her attention—or possibly a pacifier and a glow stick. Coming up empty, I pointed at her dress hem. “Oh, look, Rebecca. It’s the end of your dress! It’s frilly frilly frilly.”

She grew fascinated with it.

This whole weekend was turning out surreal. I was at the wedding of a Russian mobster’s daughter to a cherished hit man, sitting next to a mother-of-the-bride who was tripping balls.

My . . . boyfriend (shivers) was in the mafiya as well. Oh, and a billionaire.

Aleks and three groomsmen entered then from another drawing room, taking their places at the altar. They were supposed to line up and wait for the bridesmaids. So where was Máxim?

Natalie’s groom was dashing in his crisp tux, yet he still looked dangerous with his tats and close-cropped hair. He was also clearly nervous, pulling at his collar, craning his head, trying to get a look at Natalie.

His nervousness made me go aww. A man who ate bullets for breakfast truly was afraid—that she’d get away.

Then . . . Máxim entered.

When I got my first look at him in a tux, I sucked in a breath, my arm flying out to the side, as if I’d been in a car wreck.

Un hombre magnífico. He could not have looked more gorgeous.

When his eyes found me, he gave me a cocky grin, knowing he looked f*cking magnificent—knowing I was floored by him. The dark promise in his eyes made me melt.

He took his place beside Aleks, both men so tall and strong. The strain I’d sensed between the two had eased a little more. He clapped his brother on the back, razzing him about something.

As the wedding song began playing, I helped Rebecca to her feet. One by one, the bridesmaids walked down the aisle. When Jess traipsed by, she winked and blew me a kiss. My gaze slid to Máxim; he scowled at that. Rebecca pointed at the ceiling and whispered, “Ohhh.”

Then Tom escorted Natalie down the aisle and everyone sighed at the beautiful bride. Except Aleks. He adjusted his stance, as if he’d just caught himself from reeling.

Natalie looked totally at ease, ready to be married. To start a new life.

Even after Tom had given Natalie away and we’d all sat, Aleks still appeared awestruck by his bride. I thought his hand shook as he took hers.

I could hear Natalie say to Aleks, “You turned up hot, Siberian. I think I better put a ring on it.”

His brows drew together, and he nodded earnestly.

As I tugged Rebecca to sit, I tried not to stare at Máxim. But my eyes only wanted to look at him.

Going to a wedding like this, with a man like him, was dangerous to my heart. At every turn something reminded me of a fairy tale; how long would it be before I started yearning for one of my own?

Once the bride and groom began to exchange their heartfelt vows, Máxim pinned me with his piercing gaze. Everything else faded until I could swear we were the only ones in the room.

His expression made my breath hitch, as if he was making his own promises to me. After his confessions this morning, I knew he wanted more from me—and he was willing to bare his entire soul to get it.

But the fact remained that as of right now, I was a married woman—and I’d let him believe I wasn’t. I’d let everyone believe that.

No, I didn’t speak lies.

I just lived them.




Por Dios, don’t let Máxim catch the garter. I adjusted my sweating grip on the bride’s bouquet—the one I had caught.

Earlier, Jess had forced me into the crowd of single women vying for it. Though Polly had all but warmed up for the event and more than one girl had a fervent glimmer in her eyes, I’d been standing off to the side, feeling like an imposter, with no right to be there.