Page 37 of Hunter's Trial
Flight checks were being performed, the pilot was ready to go. The steward came to take my bag for the long flight. Yet, as I stood there looking up at the plane, I couldn’t help feeling that if I got onto that plane I would be stepping back into my old life. I would be taking over the position that I used to have and it wouldn’t be long before I was forming a new Bratva of my own. I could do it. I have the skills, the knowledge, and more than enough contacts to shift myself from my current rogue status into what I was raised to be.
Get on the plane. Go back to Russia.
Start all over again.
It would be so easy.
Yet, now I am crouching in bushes like a god damned stalker because I just can’t seem to fucking help myself.
How far have I fucking fallen?
Alek’s wedding to my ex-wife is exactly as opulent as I would have expected it to be. I bet there’s at least a dozen people in there who would be more than happy to see me dead. They would be beyond happy to be the ones to do it themselves. I can’t step foot in there and I sure as hell can’t let Kate know that I’m here. I have to abide by her wishes. I can’t ignore the one thing that she’s ever asked of me.
Kate looks stunning in her powder blue dress. Her blonde hair half up and half down, loose ringlets bouncing around her face as she tilts her head back in a full laugh. She’s so damned striking it’s impossible to see how she’s not magically the focus of the entire room. Liz is running across the floor of the reception tent strewing flower petals all around with some other children that appear to be her same age.
I don’t belong there.
Given my history with Alek alone I would never be invited to the wedding, but it’s all that I can do to remain close to the venue just in case. I have this sinking feeling that something is coming. The breakup was inevitable. If that’s even what it can be called. It feels wrong to say that whatever we were doing could be ‘broken’.
If I ever want to have another chance to have Kate in my arms again, then I have a few things that I need to take care of first.
The top of that list of things to handle is killing Fausto Di Gennaro.
Even if I head to Russia, the target on Kate’s back won’t disappear. It won’t just be over and done with. Others will come for her after what she did for me. Alek’s reach is far but not that far. He’s not perfect. If he was, that bastard ex of Kate’s never would have touched her. She needs me more than ever.
Fausto can’t get to me or Kate himself yet, which means that I have to keep an eye out for his men.
I don’t have much longer before the rumor of my being rogue and alone spreads too much and I need to start watching my every fucking move. There are things that I must do to stay here, or I have to head back to Russia and start over. Fuck it’s all turning into such a god damned mess. No doubt the only reason that the news hasn’t spread more is because Fausto is itching to be the one to kill me himself, so he’s stifling the news for as long as he can.
I need to go but I can’t stop watching Kate.
At least if I can find a way to kill Fausto, then I can leave Kate to live her life in peace without constantly worrying about her.
Maybe.
The wedding reception is split between a massive ballroom and a huge, tented pavilion covering an open space in a huge garden. Massive and perfectly decorated. The whole thing is positioned in front of a maze of plants and shrubbery.
The ballroom is well lit with yellow glow and chandeliers. Attendants and wait staff walk around with flutes of champagne and appetizers on silver platers. Anya chose to wear a massive princess style gown that also somehow shows off her rounded baby belly. Alek is glowing every time he so much as looks in his wife’s direction.
I remember looking at her like that and thinking that she was the love of my life.
How wrong I was.
I feel nothing when I look at Anya now. Even as happy and vibrant as she currently is, I can’t stop staring at Kate. I should be the one pulling her across the dance floor. I should be the one who twirls her around. She should be wearing a dress and jewels that I chose. She should be coming home with me tonight. Instead, I’m here, an outcast.
I track her movements, settling into the observant role that I’ve reduced myself to.
Kate grabs a glass of champagne and heads toward the outskirts of the dance floor as she pauses for a moment to watch Liz dancing with the other children in a small circle. Their erratic movements are something that could only be called dancing because they are children. At least they are enjoying themselves.
Kate’s smile holds while she watches her daughter play but slips the moment that she looks down at her glass of champagne. Is she thinking about me? I don’t want to be the reason that her smile slips. I lose sight of Liz as she runs off with another child and Henry through the throng of people.
Kate sets her glass down on the next passing silver tray before turning away from the party entirely. She wraps her arms around herself, pulling her blue dress more tightly around her torso before heading toward the edge of the tent. Where does she think that she’s going? She better not be doing what I think that she’s about to do.
The evening light is contained only to the large tent. The maze isn’t lit. Which, of course, is exactly where Kate seems to be heading.
I move on the outskirts, just outside of the dim lighting to keep myself out of view of the guests.
But I’m not the only one watching Kate.