Chapter 17
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
ALEKSEI
She was always going to say yes. If she hadn’t, I would’ve made her.
There was never going to be a world where Fiona Clark walked away from me. She was always going to be mine.
She came for my freedom, so now I have hers. That’s how this works.
I’m going to enjoy watching her walk down the aisle, knowing how much it’s killing her to give in. To give herself to me.
She thinks this is a loss for me? That marrying her was some kind of defeat for me too?
No. This was the win. She’s the prize.
I didn’t lose anything. I claimed her. Branded her. Bought her. And now I get to do whatever I want to the one woman who wanted me caged more than anyone.
She doesn’t realize it yet, but I’m going to enjoy this marriage more than she can possibly fathom. If I ever divorce her, it will be because I’ve grown tired of the fire in her eyes. But something tells me I never will.
Because giving her freedom again? Letting her have the life she thought she would build for herself? That future is dead. She’s bound to me now. Tight as a knot that can’t be undone. Fused through blood, betrayal, and the sweet taste of revenge.
That’s who we are. What we will always be.
“When will this sham of a marriage be official?” The words scrape up her throat like they physically hurt.
I grin, and the flare of fury in her eyes only makes it sweeter. “A week. At my home. Invite whoever you want. The more the merrier, wife.”
A muscle pops in her chin at the word.
She’ll get used to it. In time.
“So, this won’t be some big wedding or anything, right? Just your family, I assume?”
I tilt my head, catching the flicker of panic in her eyes. No, I hadn’t planned on anything grand. I was going to keep it simple.
But now? Now I want the whole world to watch.
“Of course it will be big,” I say smoothly, savoring the sharp breath she pulls in. “Everyone I know will be there. When a Marinov gets married, it’s a big occasion.”
She stiffens like she’s bracing for impact. “One week isn’t enough time to plan something like that.”
I lean in, lowering my voice just enough to make her nerves prickle. “Then you don’t know my family. It will be done.”
My hand lifts, fingers curling under her chin, thumb dragging over the softness of her bottom lip. My cock throbs at the contact. At the faint tremor in her breath.
That mouth. I’ve tasted it. Claimed it. But I want more. So much more.
Now it’s mine. To own. To ruin. To savor.
It’s a sickness, this obsession. But I’ve stopped trying to cure it.
I force myself to step back before I lose control. She has that effect, making my blood run hot.
“I’m not wearing a wedding dress.” She plants a hand on her hip like she’s still in charge of something.
A dry laugh escapes me. “I would much prefer if you wore nothing at all, but since I cannot have everything I want, you’ll be a good little wife and put on a gown. In fact…” I check my watch. “The gown I chose for our special day should be arriving at your place in about two hours.”
Her mouth drops open. “What?!”
My knuckles drift down her cheek, my gaze taking in every inch of her. Every defiant, filthy, beautiful inch.
“No was never an option for you, I’m afraid.”
She flinches, though desire flickers through her like a traitor.
“I took the liberty of choosing ivory. I remember how good it looked on you.”
Her eyes narrow. “How the hell do you even know my size?”
I smirk.
She groans, shoving my arm. “You are actually insane. It’s a tragedy I never managed to put you behind bars.”
“Ah, but then we wouldn’t have our happy little union. And that, detka, would’ve been the real crime.” I cup her cheek again.
Her body tightens beneath my palm before she slaps it away, and I can’t decide what I enjoy more: her resistance or how easily I can break it.
“We need to set some ground rules.”
I chuckle. “And what would those be?”
“I’m not quitting my job.”
“Fine. We could use a lawyer in the family.” I lean closer, lowering my tone. “But what will you do with me? Pretend I don’t exist? Lock me in a closet like your shameful little secret?”
“Yes, exactly.” Her glare narrows. “I’m glad you’re understanding how this is going to go now. In my world, aside from Emilia, you’re nothing but a man I once tried to send to prison.”
I grin, brushing my lips along the edge of her temple. “That’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever said to me, moya ptichka.”
“You bring it out in me.”
“What else? Go on. Tell me what you want. I’m in a giving mood.”
“Separate bedrooms. Non-negotiable.”
A loud, humorless laugh tears from my throat. “That’s cute. But no.”
Her brows slam together. “That’s not up for debate—”
I cut her off, grabbing her waist and dragging her flush against me. She sucks in a gasp, chest pressing to mine.
“You don’t seem to get it yet.” My gaze snaps to those furious, perfect eyes. “Every night, you’ll be in my bed. Right where you belong.”
Her hands push at my chest, but I don’t move. I won’t.
“I’ll do whatever I want to this body, whenever I want. Because I own you, Fiona.” My mouth brushes her ear. “Every inch is mine to defile. And I intend to.”
Her lashes dip as my lips hover a hair’s breadth from hers. I can feel her tremor, the tiny fissures spiderwebbing through her walls. One more push and she’ll crack, whispering my name the way I want it.
“It’ll never mean anything,” she breathes.
My lips graze the corner of hers. “That’s exactly how I like it.”
Then I crush my mouth to hers, my tongue forcing its way inside. She fights me at first, palms braced against my chest, but resistance with us never lasts.
Her fingers tug at my shirt, and she hauls me closer. She moans for me, low and wrecked, and it hits me like a shot of adrenaline. My hand slides into her hair, fisting tight as I deepen the kiss, her body melting into me, hips shifting on instinct she won’t admit.
Blyat. She’s perfect. Too perfect. And I hate her for what she drags out of me, while at the same time craving more of it. It’s a cruel addiction, and I want to punish her for it.
I pull back just enough to see her face: flushed, lips swollen, eyes dark with the same need burning through me.
“This is going to be fun,” I whisper against her jaw, still tasting her on my tongue. “I can’t wait to spend the rest of our lives together, Mrs. Marinova.”
She swallows hard. “Do you promise not to hurt my parents or their business? Because if you do anything to them…” Her gaze hardens. “I will kill you in your sleep.”
A low sound vibrates in my chest while my teeth drag across my bottom lip. “Do you purposely say things like that just to excite me?”
She groans, smacking my chest. “I need to hear you say it, Marinov.”
I catch her wrist, bringing it to my mouth. My eyes stay locked on hers as I press a slow kiss against her pulse point.
“I keep my word. Your parents will be safe, as long as you behave.” I lean closer, my grip tightening just enough to make her body twitch. “But if you don’t…” My tone dips. “I’ll burn it all to the ground and give you a front-row seat. We understand each other?”
There’s something feral in the way her face twists, rage burning so bright it turns almost beautiful.
“You think forcing me into this marriage is some kind of win?” She shakes her head with a laugh sharp enough to cut.
“You’re a pathetic man who has to hurt someone else to prove a point.
Hate me all you want, Aleksei, but you’re still a criminal.
And I’m still a prosecutor.” She tilts her chin up, eyes blazing so hot it knocks the breath from my lungs. “I did my job. And I’d do it again.”
The fire in her makes my cock harden like stone. I grab her throat, my lips hovering over hers as my fingers squeeze just enough so she learns to mind her manners.
“If you wanted foreplay, detka…” My mouth traces hers. “All you had to do was ask.”
My hand drifts down, trailing up the inside of her thigh. She trembles and her lips part, a gasp caught between fury and something far more dangerous.
“Look at you…” My thumb brushes her bottom lip. “Look how easily you bend for me. You are mine now, Fiona. In every sense of the word.”
Her eyes flash, filled with the kind of fury that would make most men back away.
Not me, though. It only makes this sweeter.
“I will never be yours, Aleksei Marinov. No matter how hard you try. No matter what you wish or dream, it will never happen.”
My smirk hooks at one corner of my mouth. “We’ll see about that.”
She tears herself out of my grip, cheeks flaming as she backs away. I let her go. For now.
“One last thing.” I straighten my jacket, already turning to leave. “You’ll be moving in with me. Your things will be collected the day before the wedding. Be packed by then, or I will take the liberty of doing it for you.”
“You’re pure poison, Aleksei!”
I glance back over my shoulder, the edge of a smile tugging at my lips. “I have a feeling you enjoy a little poison running through your veins.”
Her chest heaves. “You’re fucking crazy.”
I step toward the door, watching her from the corner of my eye. “Welcome to hell, my love.”
I blow her a kiss, and she flips me off.
God, I fucking love her fire.
FIONA
There’s a moment, as I’m standing in my kitchen with the kettle whining behind me, when I genuinely wonder if this is some kind of psychological break. If I’ve officially snapped completely and gone full padded room.
Because there’s no way this is real. No way that just two hours ago, a man I despise told me we’re getting married. That my wedding dress is arriving soon.
I didn’t even ask what kind of dress. I was too busy trying not to scream.
The kettle clicks off with a sharp pop, and I pour water over a tea bag I don’t remember choosing. I clutch the mug tightly, breathing in steam and chamomile like that’s going to fix any of this.
I’m marrying Aleksei Marinov.
I haven’t even told Emilia. What do I say?