Destiny Mine (Tormentor Mine #3)(82)

He walks out then, slamming the door behind him, and I just barely make it to the bathroom before my stomach heaves, expelling its contents into the toilet bowl.





64





Peter



She’s late.

The ceremony is due to start in forty-five minutes, and Sara is still not here.

I give the photographer a scathing look as he pointedly glances at his watch, and he blanches, then looks away and starts fiddling with his cufflinks, as though that’s what he was doing all along.

According to the bodyguards watching Sara’s apartment, as well as the tracking devices I’ve planted on her, my bride is still at home with her mother. I’ve called both of them several times, but only Lorna picked up once. “Sara has an upset stomach,” she informed me curtly and hung up—and has been sending my calls to voicemail ever since.

Worried and increasingly irritated, I survey the people milling around the gazebo in small groups, drinking champagne and eating the artfully arranged canapés. Nearly everyone is here already, seemingly having a good time despite some of the guests—mostly, Sara’s friends and former coworkers—eyeing me like I’m Osama bin Laden. Yan is chatting with Sara’s new coworkers, while Ilya seems fascinated by what Sara’s bandmates are telling him about their performances. Anton is talking to Sara’s father about growing up in Russia, and I even see Joe Levinson, the lawyer who likes Sara, knocking back shots of tequila at the bar and staring grimly in my direction.

He’s got balls, showing up here. He doesn’t know I’m aware of his interest in Sara, but still. If he so much as looks at her the wrong way, he won’t live to regret it.

That is, assuming she ever shows up for anyone to look at her in any way at all.

I wait five more minutes, checking my Sara-tracking app every thirty seconds, and then I call Danny, who’s part of Sara’s bodyguard crew today.

“I need you to go up to the apartment,” I say when he picks up. “Hand your phone to Sara and do not leave until she calls me.”

“Got it.”

He hangs up, and five minutes later, my phone lights up with a call from Danny’s number.

“Sara?”

“Peter, I…” She swallows. “I’m so sorry. I just need a little more time.”

My worry intensifies. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

“No, nothing. My stomach is just unsettled.”

“Do you need me to send for a doctor? Get you anything?”

“No, it’s just…” She stops, then says carefully, “Look, Peter, I know this is awful timing, but—”

“Are you trying to back out?” My voice is soft, betraying nothing of the fury blazing to life inside me. “Is that what this is about?”

“No, not at all. I just need a little more time. Your return, the wedding—it’s all happening really fast. I’m not saying we shouldn’t do it, but maybe this is too soon, maybe we can just live together for a bit, see if this is even—”

“Even what?” The hard metal of the phone cuts into my palm. “Even possible? Do you really think this is how it’s going to go?” The rage is white hot within me, but I keep my tone gentle and my expression pleasant as I step behind a little patch of trees, away from curious eyes and ears.

“Peter, please. I’m just asking for a little extension. We can tell people the truth—that I’m not feeling well—and then—”

“Let me tell you how it’s going to go, ptichka,” I say in an even softer voice. “You can either go with Danny right now, coming straight here with no delays, or I’m going to come get you. Only we’re not going to come back here in that case. In fact, there will be nothing here to come back to, because I intend to leave no witnesses to this unfortunate event.” I pause, then ask gently, “Do you understand what I’m saying, my love?”

There’s dead silence on the phone. Then she says in a broken whisper, “You wouldn’t.”

“No? Try me.” I wait a couple of beats, then add, “Of course, your parents don’t fall into the witness category. I know how much they mean to you, so we’ll just take them with us when we leave. How does that sound? They’ll enjoy an exotic getaway, don’t you think?”

She’s silent for so long I’m almost certain she’s going to try to call my bluff. Except I’m not bluffing. I don’t give a fuck about any of these people, with the exception of Sara’s parents. If she pushes me, I will carry out my threat, even if it means giving up the amnesty I’ve fought so hard to get.

Without Sara, none of that bullshit matters.

If I can’t have her, I might as well burn down the whole fucking world.

“You’re insane,” she whispers finally, and I smile darkly as I hear the capitulation in her voice.

“Yes, I am, ptichka. Don’t forget that. I’ll see you here soon.”

And hanging up, I stroll back to mingle with the guests.





65





Sara



I’m still shaking as I emerge from my bedroom, clutching Danny’s phone in one hand and smoothing the soft lace of the dress with the other.