Chapter 5 - Nikolai
As I watch Anoushka's beautiful cheeks flush with anger, it's clear that my declaration has ignited a fire within her. She turns her chair toward me, leaning in quickly to close the distance between us, and she looks up at me defiantly.
"Listen, Nikolai, just because we're married now doesn't mean I'm going to be your obedient little wife," she hisses, her voice venomous but barely louder than a whisper. "No one, least of all you, will control me."
I can't help the smirk that plays on my lips. Of course, I never expected her to bend to me right away; she is a Zolotov, after all, and a brat at that, from what I’ve observed. She’s used to it, getting things the way she wants. Even planning this wedding had been a task, her brothers often delaying decisions to pass everything through her first.
But there's something undeniably intriguing about her fiery spirit that keeps me engaged, and I realize I wouldn’t want this trait of hers to change. I like that she stands tall, yet at the same time, a little flexibility would be required to make this marriage what I envision it to be.
"While we’re at it," I say, leaning in closer. "Anoushka, please let me remind you that this marriage was not my choice either. But there was no other way to bond our families, to safeguard both the Zolotov and Orlov interests. As your husband, it's my responsibility to protect you and ensure your safety. Like it or not, that means you'll have to follow my lead sometimes. At the same time, it only feels fair that you, too, should consider what a wife’s role might be in a husband’s life. I am a giver," I clarify, and then reach over without thinking, gently caressing her cheek. “But it’s also nice to be thought of, to be a taker once in a while.”
Her eyes narrow dangerously, and for a moment, I wonder if she's going to slap me. Instead, she clenches her fists, throws back her head to pull away from my touch, and glares at me with a fierceness I haven't seen from her before.
And that motion, that anger, that fight in her beautiful eyes as she tries to stare me down unsuccessfully makes me wonder what it would be like to have her unleash upon me… in bed.
"Protecting me doesn't mean controlling me, Nikolai," she retorts, her words laced with bitterness. "And don't think for a second that I won't stand up for myself when necessary."
My patience wearing thin, I place my hands on her shoulders, gripping them firmly but not painfully, forcing her to look me in the eye. "Anoushka, I’m not being unreasonable here. Like it or not, we're stuck with each other now. It would be wise for us not to suffer while we do, and falling into our roles as husband and wife might just make both our lives more pleasant. Who knows? You might even learn to enjoy it!”
She looks away, her anger still simmering beneath the surface. As much as I’m beginning to regret the thought of being married to this stubborn woman, I can't deny that there's something about her resistance that awakens a primal need within me to conquer her over, to chase her till she’s mine.
She’ll see, with time, that I’d been right all along.
"Enjoy it? With you?" she hisses back. “Never!”
With that, she stands and begins to walk away. I immediately push back my chair, following her to the corner of the room. If there are prying eyes, I hardly notice, given how my eyes are reserved for her and her alone.
Just as she’s about to walk out of the room, I catch her by her arm. She jerks her head back and, on noticing how we’re surrounded by people, plasters on a fake smile and turns to face me. “Let me go,” she says.
“Not until we settle this matter,” I tell her.
"So this is how you want this marriage to be? With me fulfilling these duties you speak of," she blushes here and pauses momentarily, her chest heaving with anger and her hands shaking with nervousness, "whatever they might be?" She finishes her sentence.
And then, I understand. She’s afraid of just what I’m asking for.
"Your freedom isn't in question here," I say, trying to keep my frustration in check as I reach over and gently brush my hand against her arm. "There are many responsibilities we have toward one another, beyond… the bedroom."
She gasps, her eyes and lips parted wide, as she stares at me in disbelief that I dared even broach the subject. Her eyes flicker around the room, making sure no one is paying attention to us. It seems we're in agreement on one thing—we don't want to make a scene. Our voices remain hushed, but the tension between us is palpable, even more so after what I just insinuated.
“What I’m trying to say is, Anoushka—” but I’m cut off.
"Everything all right here?" Damien, ever the overprotective one, approaches us with a thin smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. He looks from me to his sister, concern etched on his face.
"Of course," Anoushka replies quickly, forcing a smile of her own. "I was just telling Nikolai I’m a little tired.”
"Good." Damien's gaze lingers on me, scrutinizing my every move. “Maybe a little fresh air would help,” he turns back to her. “The party should wind up soon enough.”
“You’re right,” Anoushka gets on her toes and kisses her brother breezily. “Fresh air is just what I need.”
Before I can protest to ask her to stay, she turns her back to me and walks out of the ballroom. Damien's gaze follows her retreating form, concern etched into every line of his face. Then, slowly, he turns back to me, his eyes hardening into chips of ice.
“Nikolai,” he says, forcing me to stay put. “Enjoying the wedding?”
“A man only gets married once,” I smile wryly. “I’m making the most of it.”
“Wise of you,” Damien nods.
We stand in silence until I ask him to excuse me. I turn to walk away because I need to find Anoushka when I feel his grip on my arm. I look back, questioning what he wants.
"I know my sister," he says, his voice low and threatening. "And I know when something's wrong. If I find out you've hurt her in any way… "
He lets the unspoken threat hang in the air between us. I meet his stare head-on, refusing to be cowed by this man who is now my brother-in-law.
"Anoushka is my wife," I remind him, my tone deceptively calm. "What happens between us is our business and ours alone. You'd do well to remember that, Damien."
His nostrils flare, but he doesn't push the issue. Not here, not now. Instead, he gives me one last warning look before turning and melting into the crowd, leaving me standing there.
While anger still fuels me at what Damien insinuated, I force myself to remain calm. Right now, I care about no one’s opinion and threats. All I need to do is find my wife. I walk out of the door Anoushka went through, walking past small loitering groups of well-wishers, nodding and smiling, but my mind is set on finding my wife.