Chapter Fourteen
Niamh
One Month Later
I’m no longer Niamh Byrne.
Nope.
Staring down at my wedding band as I sat on the toilet, trying to avoid the wedding reception, I’m Niamh Byrne-Orlov. At Ivan’s insistence, I was to keep my last name and just add that touch of Peter. Peter didn’t argue. Neither did I. There was no point.
I was at a wedding where I didn’t know a single wedding guest. I’d not invited any of my family because in the past month, my mom had phoned five times, attempting to lure me away from Peter’s home.
My father wanted me back in his care, but he had no intention of caring for me. I saw that now. The only reason Finn had ever come around was because of the inheritance, which I’d not been aware of. I couldn’t help but wonder if my mom knew the truth. I doubted it, because she would have found some way to use me to get money for herself.
That was all it was about with my famil y— money and power.
The sound of feminine giggles filled the bathroom, but I didn’t go out to join them. Ivan had helped me choose my bridesmaids. They had been the wives of the other Brigadiers. I had only met them a couple of times. All three of them seemed nice, so too did a woman who asked me to call her Butcher.
Again, I was not going to question it.
At the moment, I preferred to be on autopilot. It made life a lot safer for me, and I didn’t have to think.
I put my hand on my stomach. I tried not to have moments like these where I started to think about what I had lost. A baby. My baby. Someone I could love and who might, if I was a good mom, love me back. I didn’t want to force anyone to love me, but just for once, it
would be nice to meet someone who could potentially love me for me. No one else ever had. Not even Peter.
Tears filled my eyes, and with the makeup I wore, I didn’t want anyone asking questions. Someone walked into the bathroom and in a calm, collected voice, ordered everyone out. This made me frown.
“You can come out, Niamh.”
I wanted to stay inside the bathroom and not come out, but at that instruction, I was a little pissed, so I unlocked the door of the cubicle and opened it to find The Butcher standing with her arms folded.
“Why are you hidden away in here?” she asked.
“I’m not hiding. I had to use the bathroom.”
“You’ve been locked away for half an hour. Did you have to do a number two?”
This made me frown. “What? Why are you asking me that?”
“If you’re struggling to go, then I recommend some water or fiber.”
I put my hand over my ears and frowned. “No, please stop.”
She shrugged. “I’m only trying to help. So, if you’re not taking the world’s largest dump, why are you keeping yourself in the bathroom?”
I had never met a woman like her. She wouldn’t tell me her real name, and in the last month, I had seen a lot of The Butcher. Peter told me to be careful around her. I didn’t know why. She’d only ever been kind to me.
“I’m not locking myself away.”
She raised both her eyebrows and didn’t say a word. She looked so beautiful. The lilac bridesmaid dresses Ivan had picked out made all the women at my wedding look stunning.
The Butcher had her hair pinned back at the nape of her neck, with ringlets cascading down her face. She looked stunning.
The dress molded to her curves, and she had a figure I wished I had. She had full breasts and hips, and to me, she had the body of a curvy model. Peter told me not to be easily fooled. The Butcher was a cold-blooded killer. She had more kills than anyone else he knew, apart from perhaps The Beast, but apparently there was a great deal of debate in how many kills either of them had.
Again, this was not a topic of conversation I was ever going to have. Ivan had already made me aware that The Butcher was sticking close because of Finn. The Volkov Bratva had promised to take care of me, and I was never going to be hurt like I was last time. Again, I wanted to touch my stomach, but I stopped myself from doing that, and instead glanced over at the woman who was in the bathroom with me.
“You do know I can tell you’re lying,” she said.
“I’m fine, I wanted to be alone. Is that a crime?”
“I don’t think it’s a crime, but why do you want to be alone? It’s your wedding day.”
This made me laugh. “You do realize that Peter and I didn’t have a choice.”
The Butcher frowned. “Why not? You had a choice back in that weird town and you chose each other.”
I took a deep breath. I didn’t want to be reminded of that. “Look, that was different. I didn’t realize who Peter was, and that it was all a lie.”
“But you’re still the same people,” The Butcher said.
“We’re not, okay? The Peter I knew was a kind man, gentle, and sweet. He worked at a gym, and he liked helping people. The Peter out there is…”
“He’s no different. Okay, maybe he is different because he’s not a kind, gentle, or sweet guy,” The Butcher said. “But, you’re not some random girl who works at a diner either.”
“I know, but I didn’t seek him out. I was just trying to survive.”
“And now you both have to learn to survive this. I don’t know a lot about marriage, but I do know it’s fucking hard work.”
“And it’s supposed to be with people who love each other,” I countered.
The Butcher burst out laughing. This didn’t make me feel any better.
She put a hand to her stomach and she waved the other one across my face, as if it was the funniest thing she had ever heard. “Seriously, do you even know history and understand what marriage is? It’s a contract. A biding contract that brings families together, but it also produces wealth and all that shit. It is rare, so very rare for love to even enter the equation. Even if it does enter the equation, it is rare for marriage to last. In this day and age, there is always divorce and it is so easy to get one.”
I looked toward this woman and sighed. “You’re not good at giving pep talks, are you?”
“No one needs a pep talk, Niamh. It’s a cold sense of reality right now. Peter is your only chance of having any semblance of happiness. Is it ideal? Probably not. Think of the alternativ e— your father decides and then your life would be miserable. You’d be with a man who is at the mercy of your father. Spitting kids out, wishing for death, and not being allowed it. Men like your father make you pay. They make you crave death, and they don’t allow it. Even though you didn’t do anything wrong, he will make you suffer.”
“You’re saying it’s going to be different with Peter? Part of the Volkov Bratva?” I asked.
“Yeah, I am.” The Butcher stared at me for several minutes and I had no idea what she was thinking. “Look, I don’t do the whole friend thing, or the talking thing, or any of that shit. Life sent me down a path I wouldn’t wish on anyone. I know of the evil shits of this world, and your father is not even the worst kind. There are men far worse, and women. Ivan Volkov is a mystery, there’s no doubt about it. He is scary as fuck and what makes him even more so, is no one is ever prepared for what that man is willing to do.”
This was not making me feel any better. If anything, this was terrifying me even more, but I didn’t interrupt as she seemed to be on some kind of roll.
“What I have learned about Ivan Volkov, is no one can mess with those he cares about. They make an enemy of him, and he is loyal. He is not just chasing power or wealth. He is building a family. That is something no one has ever tried before. What I also see is Ivan builds from the broken, the damaged, the unwanted. It’s what everyone seems to have in common.”
I couldn’t help but think about Peter. “Everyone?” I asked.
“Ivan Volkov himself was thrown out like garbage. There are rumors as to why, that he was damaged or defective. His dad didn’t like that he wasn’t perfect. Ivan wasn’t killed, but he rose up the ranks, took the Bratva, and made it what it is now, and you’re married into it. You’re a Volkov now, but you do need to earn your place. When you are a true Volkov, you’ll know it.”
I looked at The Butcher. “Are you a Volkov?”
“Nope, not yet, I’m still only a candidate for an area.” She clapped her hands together. “Don’t worry, I have no doubts I am going to win it.” She winked at me, and then moved toward the door. “So, are you going to come out and enjoy your wedding, or are you going to stay locked up in this bathroom with no way out?”
****
Peter
“Shut the fuck up, it won’t be long before it’s your wedding we’re attending, and then I will be the one gloating,” I said, as Victor continued to laugh.
“I don’t think so. In case you didn’t notice, Ivan went in order, and he’s skipped me, which means I don’t have to worry my little head about getting a wife.”
I sipped my glass of whiskey and glanced over at Victor. I expected him to be the next one to be married off, but no, Ivan had other plans.
“Unless he plans to give you to The Butcher to play with, and gives your domain to her.” I winked at him, and that soon wiped the smile off Victor’s face.
It wasn’t lost on me that The Butcher was spending a lot of time around my home, near Niamh, which could only mean one thing. Ivan had put The Butcher in charge of protection detail for Niamh. I had my men guarding her, as well as three men less then five feet away from her at all times. This had caused Niamh to complain, especially when she wanted to go out into the garden, or even use the bathroom, or take a shower.
The men were on a rotation between the day shift and the night shift. Six of my finest men. Nothing was going to happen to Niamh.
I also protected her. Like now, I knew Niamh had been in the bathroom for quite some time. So much that The Butcher had gone inside, and neither of them had come out.
Ivan had set our wedding day up, and of course it was extravagant, and I didn’t expect anything less from him.
I finished my glass of whiskey and placed it on the tray of a passing waiter. Ivan was doing the rounds, and I saw the respect he got from everyone.
The only person here from Niamh’s family was her brother, and he was under guard also. Ivan had taken over the negotiations with Finn Sr., and he’d kept Finn Jr. as well.
I moved toward Finn, with no other intention than to distract myself from worrying about Niamh. I wanted to go into the bathroom and find out what she was doing, but at the same time, I wanted to give her privacy.
“Enjoying the wedding?” I asked.
“It’s a beautiful … day,” he said. “It would greatly piss off my father to see it like this.”
This made me happy.
“He never liked Niamh,” Finn Jr. said. “It always pissed him off that he had to be nice to her. It’s why he would hurt her, as that gave him pleasure. He will enjoy taking whatever happiness she has, and trust me, my father has a way of getting what he wants.”
I turned to look at him, staring him in the eye. There is this smug look on Finn Jr.’s face that fades when he realized I am taller than him, bigger, and no one can protect him.
For several seconds I didn’t make a sound. I just stared at him, and let his imagination run wild.
Ivan would stop me, unless it was a power trip for Ivan to have Junior here.
“I find it fascinating that you have so much respect for a man who cannot save you,” I said. “He has made no effort to come and get you. Hasn’t even asked for proof that you’re alive. Your father never told you that the one person with all the power here is your sister. Did you know that? Niamh has the power to kill all of you, to take everything. She owns it all, which is why she was never gotten rid of. You’ve got sisters and brothers all over. Your father has never been known for his faithfulness. You’re at her mercy, and if she so decides, your life is over. I will kill your father for what he did to Niamh, not just for the beating he gave her a month ago, or my baby that he took. No, I’m going to make sure that every time he hurt Niamh in the past, he suffers, and it will be long and slow. I like that. Everyone says revenge is a dish best served cold. For me, revenge is something you take a long time administering. I know how to make him stay alive, while piece by piece I break him. You should also know, Finn, that anyone who ever hurt her is now my target. Her slut of a mother is going to die, and if she so much as says you looked at her wrong, said a bad word, or hurt her, then I will take great pleasure in remembering this moment, because I don’t give a fuck who you are. I will kill you, but I will do it slowly, and nothing, and no one will save you.”
I pulled away from him as Niamh stepped out of the bathroom. Threatening Finn with the reality of what his future was to become, I made my way over to Niamh.
I didn’t like that she’d lost a lot of weight in the past month since she’d gotten out of the hospital. According to my staff, she barely ate anything. She often skipped breakfast, and rarely touched her dinner.
In the past month I had come to realize that Niamh didn’t like to make any kind of scene in public. Even though she was upset with me, because we had an audience, she didn’t fight me.
“Are you all right?” I asked.
Niamh looked at me and then past my shoulder. I’d not seen her smile in so long, nor did she look relaxed in my company.
“Yes.”
“Dance with me,” I said. I held my hand out for her to take and I know she debated ignoring it, but again, we were in public. Ivan was there, friends and family. A lot of people she didn’t know, and Niamh didn’t like to embarrass anyone.
She slid her hand into mine, and I held onto hers tightly, not wanting to let her go. Leading the way onto the dance floor, no one stopped us as I pulled her in close. Niamh tensed as I placed my hand on the base of her back.
“What was The Butcher doing in the bathroom?” I asked.
The music had started up and I had to figure out something to say to start the conversation.
“Doing her impression of really bad pep talks,” she said. “I don’t think she has had many friends, and considering I don’t have a lot of friends, that is saying something.”
This made me smile.
“Why do you want to know?”
“I don’t trust her,” I said.
“She’s working for Ivan.”
“Yeah, but I don’t trust anyone and it has not steered me wrong.” I had no doubt in Ivan’s choosing, but it didn’t change my feelings. I wasn’t going to trust The Butcher until she and The Beast had proven themselves completely.
I knew they’d been there for Ivan when he needed them, but that didn’t matter to me. Time and loyalty, when put to the test, was what I cared about.
Loyalty could be bought, and with both of them always taking a paycheck for their next kill, I wasn’t going to trust them. They were no different than any assassin or bounty hunter. They were not Brigadiers.
“You don’t trust me?” Niamh asked.
I looked into her eyes. “I do trust you.”
She snorted. “I highly doubt that.”
“You can doubt all you want. I still trust you.”
“How can you trust me when I lied to you from the start?” Niamh asked.
“Simple. You lied to protect yourself and others. You knew what your father was capable of. If you were given the choice, would you have still lied?”
“What?” Niamh asked.
“If you had the choice to tell me the truth without any consequences for my safety, would you have told me the lie or the truth?”
She pressed her lips together.
“Exactly. You don’t need to answer, I know the truth.”
“Would you have still lied to me?” she asked.
Shit!
“I would have done whatever Ivan told me to,” I said.
“So, that’s a yes. That means I cannot trust you.”
We had stopped dancing as we talked, and I quickly changed that, drawing Niamh into me.
“You can trust me.”
Niamh suddenly stopped and I looked at her.
“No, because you will do whatever Ivan Volkov tells you to do, and if one day he tells you I’m not needed and you have to kill me, you will.”
She pulled away from me, ending our dance.