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Antonio shuts the door, turning to look at us, stone-faced. “Not to sound like a drag on your wedding day, but we have a problem.”

“When don’t we have a problem?” Damien says, already sounding stressed, all the amusement from our conversation gone.

I stare at Antonio grimly, waiting for whatever bad news is coming my way.

Whatever it is, it’d better not affect my wedding today.

Genesis already had one subpar ceremony. I won’t allow that to happen again.

“Pissed-off Russians are blowing up my phone,” Antonio states before stopping. “Not physically, metaphorically.”

It’s wild that we have to clarify that.

But men in our world have an affinity for blowing shit up.

We’ve murdered every Russian who was aware of Dima’s plan to kidnap Genesis, including Denis. That motherfucker got a personal three-hour torture session from me before I gutted him, hung him up by chains in a warehouse, and left him there for two more days before dropping him in the ocean.

“Tell the Russians to kiss our Italian asses.” Damien kicks his feet up onto the table. “Dima murdered Yaroslav,their boss. They should be happy the disloyal fuck, his son or not, is gone.”

Antonio kicks Damien’s feet off the table and sits beside him. “Dima’s cousin is coming from Russia to take control of the family here. None of them are pissed at us, but they want a contract.”

“We don’t owe them shit,” I sneer. “Did you tell them Dima took my wife? If anything, they owe us a fucking favor. A huge fucking one. Tell them I want a shipment of their fucking eyeballs for my wedding gift.”

“What kind of contract do they want?” Damien asks.

“Marriage.”

Damien lets out a breath through clenched teeth.

“He wants one of our men to wed his daughter,” Antonio adds.

All attention slips to me.

“The fuck are you looking at me for?” I ask. “We’re at my wedding, so don’t get any ideas.”

“Calm down. We’re not planning to make you a polygamist,” Damien says. “We’re brainstorming. Start doing the same.”

“We only have …” I pause to think of options.

“Emilio or Leo,” Antonio says. “I vote Emilio.” Leo is Antonio’s cousin.

I shake my head. “Emilio will say no. He doesn’t want a wife.”

Antonio strokes his jaw. “He won’t have a choice.”

“I think a wife would be good for Emilio,” Damien inputs, as if we were parents discussing sending him to boarding school for bad grades, not forcing him to marry a stranger.

I point at each of them. “Fine, it’s Emilio. But don’t you inform him of this decision untilaftermy wedding.” I straighten my lapels.

“Having sane Russians on board with us will help,” Antonio continues. “The Irish are still pissed at us. Even though Riona is in charge, I have a feeling the higher ups in Ireland aren’t happy about a woman being in charge.”

Riona is currently the boss of the Irish mob, based out of Boston. She’s the first woman to carry the position after murdering her father. I like Riona, father murderer or not.She’s coolheaded for the most part, and she broke the marriage contract with Damien so he could marry Pippa.

“Fuck the Irish,” I say.

Antonio stands, buttoning his blazer. “We’ll discuss this later. Genesis will probably kick your ass if she walks down the aisle and you’re nowhere to be seen.”

This morning,I went to my father’s gravestone and told him he was right.