Chapter 16
16
C asimir tenses as if he’ll just snarl at me, but then he lifts me so I can wrap my legs around his waist. There’s a rush of hands and soap and rinsing each other off, and then he carries me to the bed and eats me out until I lose track of how many times I come. We fuck with the franticness of two people painfully aware of the clock ticking down on their reprieve. I can’t imagine a way this will work, and he doesn’t seem able to imagine a way it won’t.
There are no answers two days later, the rising sun bringing our time in this house to an end. Casimir disappears briefly and comes back to the room with our clothes and phones. We dress in silence, and fuck if I know what to do. Say goodbye? Keep arguing in circles?
I don’t protest when he takes my hand and leads me through the warren of hallways to the same door through which I entered a few days prior. It feels like a lifetime ago. There’s a fancy black sports car waiting, all sleek lines and predator vibes.
Casimir opens the door for me, his movements easy and downright habitual. How many times has he done the same thing as Luke? More than I can begin to count. “Let’s go.”
It doesn’t even occur to me to demand my own ride. I slide into the buttery leather seats and watch him walk around to the driver’s side.
It’s only as we exit through the gates that I turn to him. “Whatever plan your family has, it will never work. Even if I lost my mind and married you, the other heirs won’t follow suit.” Michelle wouldn’t know commitment if it bit her in the ass. Cassim is so uptight, I can’t imagine him having a whirlwind romance with an enemy. Talia is ruthless enough to slit someone’s throat if they try to take the territory that’s her birthright. We can’t even get Kiley to come out with us, let alone lose her head enough to marry a Romanov. There’s no established heir to the neutral territory that the Underworld stands in. “It won’t work.”
“Then you have nothing to worry about, do you?”
I glare. “My fathers will kill you.”
“They’ll try.” He shrugs. “But if you tell them you love me, they’ll pull their punches for fear of breaking their baby girl’s heart.”
“Stop saying that,” I hiss.
“Calling you their baby girl?” He takes a corner a little too fast, a tight smile pulling at his lips.
“Saying I love you.”
“You do.”
I watch the speedometer creep up. If he’s speeding to ensure I don’t try to punch him in the face... Well, it’s a good plan. I’m not going to die today. “I loved Luke .”
“It wasn’t all fake. The best cover is more reality than anything else. You love me , baby.”
I curse. “Even if I agreed with that, I cheated on you.”
“Water under the bridge.” He glances at me as he changes lanes. “Especially since you plan to keep doing it.”
“What?”
“Ruby.” The censure in his voice makes me squirm. “You get off on being bad. I get off on punishing you. One plus one equals two.”
For a moment, I allow myself to picture what a future like that might look like. To be my true self, messy and bitchy and ruthless. It makes me a little dizzy to even consider. “You can’t keep killing people who touch me.”
He tightens his grip on the wheel. “I’m willing to... negotiate on that element of the equation.”
Am I seriously considering this?
It seems like I am. I lean back in my seat and cross my arms over my chest. “Do you want to fuck other people?”
“Nyet.”
“But you’re okay with me doing it as part of our game?”
“Da.” He reaches over and opens the glove compartment. “As long as you wear this when you do.” He pulls out a small box and hands it to me.
It’s too small to hold the ruby necklace, which is just as well. That jewelry is gorgeous and ostentatious, but there’s no way I could wear it regularly. It’s too over-the-top. I flip open the box and swallow down a gasp. This necklace is brutal in its simplicity, a chain long enough to loop twice around my throat and a dagger dangling from the end, a ruby winking in its hilt. I press my thumb to the blade and hiss out a breath as it slices my skin. “Sharp.”
“Da.” He sounds pleased. “A lock was tempting, but that’s not your style, and someone might look at it and take it the wrong way.”
The wrong way. Because I’m heir and will eventually lead the territory. Because I can’t afford for anyone to think that I might be beholden to a partner in a way that would put them before my people. The realization makes me feel strange. I choose to focus on something simpler. “Your accent fades in and out. What’s up with that?”
“Habit.” He shrugs. “Do you have a preference?”
The fact that he’s asking me that almost makes me laugh. This is the strangest conversation I’ve ever had. “On if you have an accent or not?”
“Yeah.”
“I want what’s real.” I clear my throat. “What happens if your family changes their tune? Even if I were to marry you, there’s no way the plan will go as smoothly for the others. What happens when the Romanovs decide war is the better option?”
He takes the exit to the airport, cutting through traffic in a way that makes my stomach swoop. “That won’t happen.”
“But what if it does?”
Casimir sighs. “My uncle has his hands full with Dmitri Romanov’s daughters currently. Marrying you will allow me to prioritize my role here over dealing with that mess. They aren’t going to buckle, regardless of what he believes. That will keep him busy long enough that Carver City will be sorted.”
I can’t fathom his arrogance. As if it’s as simple as that. “I’m not going to keep your secrets. I’m going to tell Michelle and Zayne about Tatiana.”
His jaw tightens. “Tatiana can handle her own shit.”
“No love lost there?”
“She’s a pain in my ass.” He slashes a look at me. “She seduced you, knowing I’ve already claimed you. She’s lucky I don’t shoot her in the kneecap.”
I don’t know what to say to that. I don’t know what to feel. No, that’s a fucking lie. The truth is that I’m pulled between what I want and what I should do. I know what Michelle and Zayne would say. What my parents would say.
Kill Casimir and flee. Return to Carver City where I’m safe and prepare for the Romanovs to strike back.
I also know what my aunt would say. She loves me, but she’s sacrificed plenty for our territory. That’s what good leaders do—sacrifice for the greater benefit. Marriages of convenience are common enough in our world. Marrying the enemy might be slightly less common, but it’s not unheard of. As Casimir said, war is expensive.
Really, I’m just looking for an excuse to take what I want. I stare at the man who’s occupied so much of my thoughts for years now in one variation or another. Even with everything between us, I’m relaxed in the passenger seat, just like I have been so many times before.
“If we’re doing this... No more lies. You stop pretending to be Luke. You...” I suck in a breath. “No more missions or whatever for your uncle. You can’t be allied to two people, Casimir.”
He pulls up in front of the airport and puts the car in park. “Baby, you know how Romanovs work.”
“Yeah, I do. And I’m still drawing this line in the sand. What happens if your uncle decides this plan doesn’t make sense and tells you to kill me?”
Casimir shakes his head. “He wouldn’t do that.”
Judging from the rumors I’ve heard about Jovan, I’m not so sure. He’s a canny old bastard, and the Romanovs have grown astronomically in power and wealth since he inherited the rule in Russia. He’s not erratic, exactly, but you’re expendable if you aren’t a Romanov... and sometimes even if you are.
“Maybe not, but what if the plans don’t play out the way he wants here? If Carver City goes to war, I’m siding with my allies here, with my family. Not with yours.”
He grins. “You’ve already decided to marry me.”
“No, I haven’t. I’m just playing through scenarios.”
“Liar.” He glances at the cars swarming around us, at the people exiting and entering the doors to our right in waves. “Trust me when I tell you that it won’t come to that.”
I might trust him, but that doesn’t mean I trust the rest of his family. “What if it does? I can’t say yes to you without having an answer to this. Without you giving me your word that you won’t stand against the people I care about. Against me .”
He drums his fingers on the steering wheel. “I can’t avoid being called back to Russia from time to time. Regardless of anything else, family is family.”
I want to argue, but he’s right. No matter what happens in my life, if I somehow ended up somewhere else... I’d still have relationships with my parents.
Still. “That’s not really what I’m asking you.”
“I know.” He sighs. “Baby, I won’t hurt you. Not for anything. And you’d never forgive me if I hurt your family or friends. So I won’t. The rest, we’ll figure out.”
It’s not exactly a promise to stand with us against a Romanov invasion, but it’s good enough for me. “How much time do we have before your uncle starts considering war a legitimate option?”
“I don’t know. Like I said, he’s distracted with New York. That will take some time to resolve. In an ideal situation, we’d have Carver City wrapped up before then.”
Wrapped up. A Romanov match for every heir. The current territory leaders will never stand for it.
But this Romanov? He’s mine. I can admit that now. We’re two twisted plants growing toward the same bloody light, tangled with each other so thoroughly that there’s no escape. More, I don’t want to escape.
I drag in a rough breath. “We have to do this my way. My parents are going to freak out, and while we could just ride it out, that’s not the best option.” It’s what I’ve been doing for most of my life. Riding the waves and pretending they aren’t carrying me to a position of power. If I’d been actively training as an heir, would Casimir have approached me a different way?
In fact... if I’m going to truly step into my role as heir, that has to start now. Before we return to Carver City. “If you really mean to be my bloody right hand, then I have a task for you.”
He climbs out of the car and circles around to open my door. Casimir offers his hand. “I’m listening.”
There are people all around us, but I only have eyes for him. “I want you to secure your uncle’s word that the Belmonte territory is off limits.”
His eyes widen. “A bold demand.”
“If he really means to do this without war, then it should be an easy agreement.” Jovan might not hold to his word, but if Casimir does this for me... It means something. I can’t pretend it doesn’t.
Casimir plays his thumb over my knuckles. “It will take some time. I have to go to him to have this conversation, to secure this agreement. You understand?”
He’ll have to leave me, at least for a little while. I bite down on the urge to take it back, to demand he never leave my side. I guess I’ve made my choice, after all.
But if I’m going to be a territory leader, I have to prioritize the safety of my territory over my personal comfort. “I understand. Take as long as you need.”
“Not yet. I’ll see you home first.” He laces his fingers through mine and turns to lead me into the airport.
Gods, but I hope I’m not making a horrible mistake.
The trip home is shockingly comfortable. Through mutual understanding, we don’t talk private business on the plane. Instead we watch a new action movie, and Casimir spends the entire time pointing out the foolishness of the main character as he passes me the bits of the trail mix I like—peanuts and raisins—while accepting the bits I don’t love—cashews and M&Ms. There’s a Russian accent filtering his amused words now, but this is familiar enough for me to sink into it through sheer habit.
It gives me hope. That he was being honest that not all of Luke was a lie, that maybe we fit each other even better than I could have dreamed. No more lies. No more hiding the ugly parts of myself. With Casimir, they’re on full display, and he doesn’t shy from their existence. From me.
He laces his fingers through mine and lifts our joined hands to press a kiss to my knuckles. “Relax, baby. It will work out.”
Maybe. Maybe not. But hope is hard to argue with. And so is... love.
Damn it.
After we land, we go back to the apartment to change and shower off the evidence of travel. With each minute that ticks us closer to telling my parents the truth, my stress grows. I’m practically vibrating by the time we head down to the car Casimir called.
I sent my parents a text, so they know we’re coming. The fact that I didn’t respond to the dozens of texts from them over the past couple of days isn’t going to earn me any points. I’ve made a fucking mess of this.
“Breathe.” Casimir takes my hand as we walk toward the front door. “You got this.”
“They’re going to shoot you.”
“Maybe.”
I swing around to look at him. “What the fuck do you mean maybe ? You can’t seriously be so calm about this.”
“We live in a world of blood and violence, Ruby. But they love you, and I love you, so no one is going to die tonight.”
“That leaves a lot of space for pain and getting shot ,” I mutter. I dig my key out and unlock the front door.
“Da.” He opens the door and tugs me inside.
If I hadn’t already known my parents were worried and furious, them meeting us in the foyer would have clued me in. Mother is wringing her hands, but Dad and Da are both locked down.
Da’s expression goes soft when he sees me but hardens immediately as he takes in my hands, linked with Casimir’s. “I think it’s time you explained yourself, Ruby.”
All the words clog my throat, and I have to swallow a few times to get them in order. There are a thousand explanations and excuses lining up in my head, but it’s best to rip off this bandage immediately. “Mom, Da, Dad... I’m getting married.” I keep talking over their sharp questions. “To him. Casimir Romanov.”
“Casimir Romanov,” Dad repeats slowly. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
“Casimir Lukov Romanov, to be most accurate,” Casimir says. He’s so fucking calm in the face of their growing anger.
Da is the one who moves first. He stalks to us, and there’s no warning, no tensing to indicate his intentions. He punches Casimir in the face.
The force of it knocks Casimir back a few steps. I start forward, fully intending to get between them before Casimir strikes back, but he... doesn’t. Not even when Da punches him again, this time in the stomach. It bends him in half, and as soon as he rises, Da hits him again.
“Stop!”
Mom starts forward, but Dad gets there first, wrapping his arms around Da and hauling him back. “He’s not fighting you.”
“He’s a fucking Romanov .” Da lunges forward, but Dad holds him back. Barely. “He came into our house and lied to our faces. He defiled our?—”
“I’m going to need you to stop right there,” I snap. “Casimir wasn’t completely honest, and that’s something he and I will deal with. You don’t get to start pretending like I’m some virgin princess locked away in a tower and he stole me. I made my choices, and damn it, I’m not an innocent.”
Mom looks a bit like she wants to throttle me. “You went to the Black Rose Auction. You lied to us.”
“Yes.” It’s hard to meet her gaze. “I’m sorry I lied. I’ve been dealing with some stuff, and I had to do it on my own.”
“You mean him.” She turns her attention to where Casimir has finally straightened again. He’s bleeding from his mouth, and one of his eyes is already starting to swell shut. Mom walks past my fathers to stand before him. “You’re the Mad Wolf. We’ve heard of you. Killing you might please me in the short term, but since we have no desire to bring your family down on us, tell me why we shouldn’t drive you to the border of the city and turn you loose.”
Casimir wipes the back of his hand against his bloody mouth. “I love your daughter. I have from the start. I knew you wouldn’t give me the time of day if you knew who I really was, so I lied. But the truth is out now, and I’m only too happy to get my hands bloody standing between Ruby and the rest of the world.”
“Hmm. We’ll see.” She glances at me. “You haven’t handled this properly from the beginning. Coming in here and dramatically announcing that you’re going to marry a Romanov?” She shakes her head. “Cordelia will denounce you in seconds if she thinks you’re compromised. You want to marry him? Do it right.”
I can barely process her words, Casimir’s words. “What do you mean when you say, ‘Do it right’?”
“You will move back in here for a time.” She flicks her fingers at Casimir. “And you will court her properly. A little distance will do you both some good and allow you to think clearly. If this is true love like you claim, you won’t have an issue proving it.”
Casimir doesn’t look like he likes this plan any more than I do. He glances at me and then refocuses on my mother. “Whatever it takes.”
“Yes, well, we’ll see.” She turns back to me. “After a month or so, you can go before Cordelia and ask permission to marry. She will have final call.”
“Mother!”
“This is the proper way to do things, Ruby. Obviously we’ve been too lax with you if you think you can waltz in here with a Romanov who’s been lying to us for years and proclaim you’re getting married. It’s time to grow up.”
Casimir steps close and presses a quick, bloody kiss to my lips. “This changes nothing, baby. I’ll accomplish the task you put before me and come back for you.”
“You may leave now, Casimir,” my mother says, her polite tone icy enough to cut him to the bone.
With one last long look at me, he turns and walks out the door. The cowardly part of me wants to flee after him, to do anything to avoid the difficult conversation coming for me. But my mother is right. It’s time to stop acting like a spoiled brat.
As the door closes, I turn to face my furious parents. Mom turns to my fathers. “Let’s take this to the kitchen.”
That’s only a slight relief. There are two places in this house for shitty conversations—the kitchen and the study. The study is for more formal ones, for the true fuckups. The kitchen is more informal, an easier place to not feel like you’re put on the spot.
“Sit.”
I sit.
My parents move in a smooth rhythm that almost feels coordinated: Mom starting the kettle, Da easily shifting behind her to grab the sugar and cream, Dad pulling out the tea tins. When I was thirteen, Mom decided that talking in the kitchen over tea was the way to handle most teenage challenges. It works.
I’ve sat in this exact spot and spilled my heart out over crushes and fights with friends and asshole teachers and all the frustrations that arise when every conflict feels like the end of the world.
Several minutes later, we all have steaming cups of tea in front of us. Da leans his forearms onto the counter. “You’ve handled this poorly.”
Guilt, true guilt, threatens to suffocate me. “I know. I’m sorry.”
“Take us through it,” Dad says.
And so I do. At least mostly. My parents don’t need to know the dirty details of the sex, and they don’t need to know that Casimir was playing at being Wolf to my Little Red and stalking me. But I disclose the broad strokes of the cheating, the breakup, the auction, the revelation.
“Ruby.” Mom sighs. “You should have come to us.”
“With all due respect, as much as I love you, I have to start dealing with stuff on my own. I won’t pretend that I dealt with this well, and I am sorry for that, but for the first time in my life, I feel like me instead of a polished doll that only does the right thing all the time.”
Da crosses his arms over his chest. “We never expected perfection from you.”
“I know.” My words get choked, but I press through. “I’m not trying to escape responsibility. I didn’t want to disappoint you, so I carved off big parts of myself to fit the role that I thought you wanted, even while I dodged that role. But I’ve been... phoning it in when it comes to most of the stuff in my life. It’s time for that to change.”
“We don’t have to tell you that a Romanov is dangerous. They’re like cockroaches—there’s never just one,” Dad says. “And the Mad Wolf? He’s the most dangerous of all.”
“Not to me.”
“Don’t be naive.”
“I’m not.” Not anymore. I’m not ready to tell them the task I sent him on. If he’s successful, it will go a long way towards proving his loyalty—both to me and my parents. “Casimir would murder the world for me. He’s not a saint, but would you really want me to be with a saint?”
My parents exchange a look so filled with history that it’s got too many layers for me to translate. Finally Mom sets down her mug. “I suppose we’ll see, won’t we?” She rounds the kitchen island and presses a kiss to my temple. “I’m glad you’re home safe.” She walks through an archway, heading deeper into the house.
Da grabs the mugs and makes quick work of them in the sink while Dad watches me closely as if weighing his words. Finally he says, “If you sneak out again, I’m cutting down every tree around the house. You want to be treated like an adult? Start acting like one.”