Reign (The Syndicate_ Crime and Passion Book 2)(8)

“How was what?” I said.

“Sergei….” she said, her voice edged with skepticism.

“Oh. That,” I said, remembering the wedding that had momentarily slipped my mind. “Nice, I guess.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you, but…” she said.

“Yes,” I replied.

There was no need to say anything else. Maxim wouldn’t have allowed Senna within ten miles of the wedding, not only because of the danger but because of Senna’s past with Santo. I didn’t know what had happened, but it was bad, and was the reason for all this. Still, I hadn’t wanted Senna there either. She was a good friend to me, and I’d never see her hurt, even though having a friendly face there would have been nice.

“What’s she like?” Senna asked, her eyes even more curious.

I shrugged and called up an image of Daniela and purposefully ignored the memory of looking into her dark eyes. “She’s…pretty.”

Senna frowned. “Pretty? That’s all you got?”

I shrugged again, thinking of the black hair swept up neatly without a single stray. I’d thought she was wearing makeup, but I hadn’t been able to tell whether she was covered or if her golden brown skin had had a glow naturally, her plump lips had been that naturally glossy. “She’s very…rich-looking,” I said.

“What does that mean?” she asked.

“Well, she just looks polished, pampered. Probably had everything handed to her all her life,” I said.

“Santo Carmelli is her father,” Senna said as if that settled the matter.

“Yes, that probably sucked,” I said.

“No probably about it. Besides, you can’t judge her based on what she looks like,” Senna said.

“I’m not judging her. I simply answering your question,” I said.

“Okay, so she’s polished. What else?” she asked.

“What’s up with the questions?” I said, mostly to cover for the fact that I had no idea how to begin answering them, and the fact that I found myself wanting to be able to.

“It’s not every day you get married, Sergei. Color me curious. I’ve been deep in diapers and bottles, so it’s nice to have something new to chat about,” she said.

“Yes, so…” I paused, not sure what else to say.

“What about her personality?” she asked.

“Nice,” I quickly replied.

She narrowed her eyes at me. “You don’t know?”

I shrugged.

She shook her head. “Sergei, you’re married to the woman. Did you even talk to her?”

“Of course,” I said.

“Other than to say ‘I do’?” Senna asked, though her expression told me she knew the answer.

I shrugged again. “What else is there to say? It’s done.” As simple as that, and nothing more, something I kept reminding myself.

She frowned. “You should talk to her. She’s probably terrified.”

“She looked terrified for a moment.” I paused. “And pissed,” I added, again remembering that flash of fire in her eyes I was sure she would have used to strike me dead if she’d had that power.

“You can see why,” Senna said.

“Yes, but…” I protested, not liking where this was headed. Talking to her would only make me more curious about her. I couldn’t afford that.

She shook her head. “You should talk to her. Reassure her,” she said.

“Reassure her? I can’t do that, and who says I want to or that it would be worth the trouble of trying?”

Senna smiled at me indulgently as if she couldn’t believe I’d suggest such a thing but was confident I would see the error of my ways.

“Just make sure she knows you’re not some kind of mad-dog monster. She needs to understand what she’s getting into,” Senna said.

“What she’s gotten into. And trust me, she has an idea. I’m sure Maxim left no doubt,” I said.

She frowned. “I’m certain he didn’t. But she’s not married to him. She’s married to you, and it would help her if she knew what kind of person you are.”

“And what kind of person am I?” I asked, genuinely curious as to what Senna would say.

“You’re not Santo. She should know that.”

“What about me?” I asked, lips tipping up in a smile.

“What about you?”

“You’re worried about her, but I’m in this too,” I said, pretending to be wounded by Senna’s lack of consideration.

She wasn’t buying it, and she rolled her eyes. “You can take care of yourself.”

“I thought you cared, Senna,” I said dramatically.