Chapter 2
2
Kirill Petrov
Several Hours Later
" C ome on," I mutter, pushing the elevator button for the third time and shaking my head at Jasper, the daytime security guard.
"It's getting fixed today, Mr. Petrov," he reassures.
"About time. This is ridiculous," I grumble, just as the number one lights up and the steel doors open.
The redhead, who lives on the floor below me, tries to hide her disgust. Like always, she can't. She takes one look at my scar, cringes, and plasters a tight smile on her face.
My chest tightens. "After you," I offer, motioning for her to get off the elevator so I can get in and forget this little encounter.
She squeaks out, "I forgot my gloves. I have to go back upstairs."
Awesome. A ride with Ms. Uppity.
I step inside, press my palm against the screen, then hit eleven for her floor.
The doors shut, and there's no movement .
I press my hand against the screen again.
The redhead offers, "It's just taking a while."
"Totally absurd," I bark, a little louder than I should.
She jumps, then steps closer to the back corner, as far away from me as possible. The back of her black boot heel hits the wall.
I sigh. "Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you."
The thin line on her mouth forms again. She refocuses on the doors and tightens her black wool coat around her scrawny body. Her cheeks flush a shade of maroon, darkening her freckles.
The elevator creaks and slowly begins to lift.
I lean against the wall, cross my arms, and try to ignore the clawing in my gut.
She doesn't speak, but I can feel her sneaking glances at my face from the corner of her judgy eyes. She does it whenever I see her, so today is no different.
I shove my hands in my coat pockets and squeeze my fists tightly, cursing myself for letting her judgment affect me.
She's a bitch.
No different from every other woman.
Fiona didn't give me that look.
Don't fool yourself. She only hides it better, I scold myself. But I can't escape what's been flaring in my mind since I left her in the snow.
I misinterpreted it.
I didn't.
I did .
Fiona's greens, dancing with a challenging excitement while I squeezed her throat, won't leave my mind. They mix with the recollection of her thumping pulse pushing against my hand.
The small box continues to move at a snail's pace. The next number lights up, but it's blurry.
Fiona's parted lips and hot, shallow breath torment me further. It's so real, it's like she's in front of me.
The metal doors part in a loud screech, tearing me out of my thoughts.
The redhead shoots out of the elevator and into the hallway. Her frizzy hair bounces out of sight.
I press my palm on the screen and hit the close button, but it's another painstakingly long process before I get to the penthouse. The elevator finally stops, and I step out into my foyer, remove my jacket, and put it on the coatrack.
The elevator doors shut. I reach for the front door and enter the main area. The bell rings.
The hairs on my arms rise.
I don't get visitors. Not unless it's someone in The Underworld, and almost always one of my fellow Omni. Lately, those visits only turn into arguments.
It's my fault. I brought it on myself when I stepped in and interfered during Sean and Zara's final test to earn their seats at the table. I offered my only token. For it to be accepted, and for Sean and Zara not to die, we had to agree we'd owe the Omni.
Little did I know they already knew what they wanted from me. They set me up so I'd have to do the one thing I've worked hard to avoid—get married. Now, no matter how hard I try, there doesn't seem to be any way to escape it .
I may be king of the Omni, but right now, I'm powerless. And I should have prepared myself better. I've gotten away without a wife at my side longer than I theoretically should have. The rules are clear, and I'm to rule with a queen by my side.
Ironically enough, the Omni has chosen the one woman I've been unable to stop thinking about since our first random encounter. And when they ordered me to marry Fiona O'Malley, it only strengthened my obsession with her, no matter how much I've fought to make them change their minds.
Today's innocent reappearance of the sexy blonde who doesn't grimace or seem afraid of me isn't helping the ache digging deeper in my core. Her initial flirting, which I have to be wrong about, fucks with my head the same way it did the night I first met her. And every ounce of anger, frustration, and determination to learn the truth about her father's mark and why I branded it on my hand creates a guilt I'm not used to feeling.
The bell rings again.
I slam my hand against the button, demanding, "What is it?"
"A Sean O'Malley is here to see you," Carmen from the front desk states.
"Of course," I mutter, then instruct, "Send him up."
"Yes, sir."
I open the front door, then walk to the window, staring at the iced-over water. The flakes are as big as they were earlier.
What was she thinking, not dressing appropriately? I wonder, wishing she hadn't seen the skull and we could have had a more pleasant conversation.
What's the point?
I have to marry her .
I'm not doing it.
There's no getting out of it.
When she learns the truth, she's going to hate me.
Maybe she won't.
Stop kidding yourself.
She might as well hate me from the start.
By the time Sean arrives, my head is spinning with all the self-loathing and sins of the past I try to keep buried but fight every time I think of what's to come. It slaps me so hard that a cold shiver runs through my bones.
"Kirill," he booms.
I spin away from the white blanket, blinking a few times until he comes into view.
"Why did you corner my sister?" he accuses.
"I didn't."
"Bullshit."
"Watch your mouth," I warn.
"Or what?" he challenges, stepping closer and intensifying his scowl.
I remind him, "You may have earned your seat at the table, but I'm the king. Don't push me. Not today."
"A king who takes unnecessary risks with my sister?" he spouts.
Fiona's beautiful face, full of warmth and excitement when she first saw me, bursts into my mind.
She'll never look at me like that again.
Why did she to begin with ?
"Why would you do that? You could have put her in danger," he points out.
My pulse increases. He's right. And the last thing I want is to hurt her. So I back down and sigh, admitting, "I was in the coffee shop. I didn't know she was coming to your place and would come inside, or I wouldn't have been there."
He studies me.
"Believe what you want, but that's the truth."
"She isn't marrying you," he declares, then grinds his molars.
My chest tightens. There are plenty of reasons Sean wouldn't want me marrying his sister, and the scar across my face is only one of them. What's worse is if he knew the secrets I live with, he'd try to kill me.
He leers harder at me.
I cross my arms, stating, "I don't want to marry your sister. But why don't you tell me how we're getting out of this, because the last time I checked, you were in this as deeply as I am."
Guilt floods his features. His breath quickens, but he stays quiet.
"That's what I thought. You're up against the wall as much as I am. And you're welcome again for saving your ass," I hurl, pissed that we're in this situation and both powerless to change it.
He clenches his jaw.
I walk to the fridge, open the door, and pull out two beer bottles. I snap the cap off one, take a long drink, then open the second one. I hold it out to him. "Here."
He stays frozen.
"Fine. Suit yourself," I say, putting it on the counter and downing half of mine .
He finally moves, grabs the bottle off the island, and takes a large swig.
"I wouldn't intentionally put Fiona in danger," I insist.
He pulls a barstool out and sits. He puts his forearms on the counter, stating, "We have to find a way to change the Omni's minds."
I grunt. "Good luck."
"I'm serious."
"You don't think that's what I've been working on?"
He sits back and crosses his arms, glaring daggers at me.
I scoff. "You're something else."
He snarls, "What's wrong with my sister? Most guys would drool at the prospect of marrying her. You think you're better than her?"
Just the opposite, I think, but keep it to myself.
"My family isn't going to allow her to marry a Petrov," Sean adds with more disdain.
I curl my fists at my sides, threatening, "You seem to not understand how The Underworld works. For someone who has a seat at the table, I suggest you study the rulebook your father put together."
His face hardens before he turns and stares out the window.
I continue, "The point is to work together, not continue the families' wars."
"Yeah, I know," he claims, pinning his greens on me again.
I finish my beer, then grab another out of the fridge, cracking the cap off.
Sean asks, "Why did you do it?"
"Do what? "
"Save Zara and me."
My heart races faster.
Tense silence fills the air.
"Well?"
I put the beer down, then admit, "I promised your father."
The blood drains from Sean's face. He holds his breath, studying me, then questions, "What are you talking about?"
My gut clenches, but I push the emotions down. "Your father helped me once when no one else would. I wanted to pay him back. He made me promise that when the day came, and you and Fiona needed help, it would come from me," I confess.
Sean gapes at me.
I step back and lean against the counter, squeezing my fingers against the quartz, taking deep breaths, and remembering the day I wish I could erase from my memory.
But I can't.
It'll never disappear, nor will the dominoes that fell after it.
"Don't fuck with me, Kirill," Sean warns.
"I'm not. Trust me, if I could erase that day, I would," I snarl, grab my beer, and return to the window. The blanket of cold snow I previously wanted to escape, I now wish I could disappear into forever.
Sean seethes, "I doubt my father would approve of you marrying Fiona."
I snort. "Nope. I'm sure he wouldn't. But part of that isn't my fault, now is it?" I spin and lean against the cold glass, barely feeling it.
Fresh guilt pops up on Sean's face. He lowers his angry voice, stating, "I couldn't let them do that to Zara. "
My chest tightens. I nod, but he's not getting off that easily. "The moment I accepted the position of king, my fate was sealed. But Fiona's only on the table for one reason. It has nothing to do with your final test, and that's on your conscience, not mine."
His eyes turn to slits. "What the fuck does that mean?"
I swallow a large mouthful of beer, waiting until the bubbles hit my stomach. Then I answer, "You disrupted what was to be on the night of your initiation. You did that, not me."
"What are you talking about?"
"There was a plan, and you decided to go rogue. You were warned there would be consequences," I point out.
Sean opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. Understanding fills his expression, and he looks away.
"Ah, that's right. You didn't just change Zara's and your fate. You changed your sister's and mine. So, you can sit there and accuse me until you're blue in the face, but this is on you," I assert.
He pales further.
I let it sink in a moment, then add, "I respected your father. I would never do something that would upset him, but unless you can change the Omni's minds, we're going to have to figure out how to deal with the situation. The only other option gets everyone killed. And I don't think you want your twins to be orphans."
He jumps up. "Don't you dare?—"
"It's reality, and you know it!"
He takes large breaths, his face red with anger and fear.
I soften my tone. "I'm not here to hurt you, your sister, or anyone in your family. When I say I respected your father, I mean it. But this conversation is pointless unless you can come to me with a viable solution. "
He slowly meets my gaze and states, "I want to know what went on between you and Fiona today."
I shrug. "Nothing."
"It wasn't nothing!" he barks.
I step closer. "She saw the skull. That's it."
Sean studies me closer and then asks, "What else happened?"
"That's it."
"But she's seen you before?"
My pulse skyrockets. I nod. "Yes. Your wife was there. I thought you knew about it."
Anger flickers across his features. He spews, "Are you following Fiona?"
"Don't ask stupid questions."
"Are you?" he roars.
"Of course not. I wouldn't put her in that position. We both know what happens if we attempt to bypass whatever the Omni wants for her initiation," I state.
His jaw twitches.
More tension erupts between us.
He warns, "My sister can't go through what Zara did for initiation. You can't let that happen."
"I don't get to choose, Sean. Just like you didn't, I don't either," I claim.
"You're the fucking king!" he booms.
Disappointment fills me. I hate having no control over this situation. But it is what it is, so I reply, "Nothing regarding Fiona's initiation is up to me. We gave up our tokens. We traded in our choices on this matter. Now, I don't like it any more than you do, but the sooner you accept it, the easier it will be for you."
He scrubs his face and shakes his head. "There has to be another way. My sister isn't going to agree to marry you. And I'm not forcing her."
My heart races. I hide the sting of his words, even though I already know Fiona will never want me. She's eleven years younger than me and beyond gorgeous. Her thriving career in the fashion world means she understands and values beauty. The men she dates are country-club perfect and belong on the covers of magazines. Plus, she's already proven she's not scared of me and isn't afraid to fight for what she wants.
And that's what worries me the most. I'll be a man and deal with my fate, but I'm fearful that same spirit might be the cause of Fiona ending up dead on initiation night. So I can blame Sean all I want, but that's on me if that happens.
If she does go through with it, she'll end up dead anyway.
No way will she survive being married to me.
She'll hate herself for allowing me to ever touch her.
Her embarrassment that I'm her husband will show every time we walk into a room together.
"Find another way, Kirill. If you really did respect my father, then you'll figure this out."
Beyond frustrated, I roar, "You're not listening!"
He jabs me in the chest. "No, you're not. Find another way. Fiona is off-limits!" He spins and stomps out of the room.
I follow him. "Sean, I'm not the enemy. I know you think I am, but I'm not. Trust me, I don't want this any more than you do."
He smacks the button a few times until it lights up, then demands, "Go marry someone else. That'll solve this issue. "
I scoff. "You know they'll kill me if I do that."
"So? My sister would be safe."
I grab his coat and yank him toward me, pointing my finger in his face and snapping, "Stop saying irrational things. If I do anything of the sort, we all die. Is that what you want? Zara, your sister, and you lying in a pool of blood next to me?"
He pushes me away, snarling, "Don't ever touch me again unless you want to be laid out on the floor."
"The threats aren't going to make this go away, and neither is blaming me, so I'll tell you what your dad would tell you right now. Grow the fuck up."
New hatred fills his expression. He fumes, "Don't ever talk to me like you know what my father would say."
I stay silent, realizing I'm fighting a losing battle.
The elevator opens, and Sean leaps into it. He hits the button, but the doors stay open.
I add, "We have to find a way to work together. There are Omni who have seats, and they're working against us. The sooner we make peace, the better off everyone will be."
"Get us out of this nonsense with my sister, and I'll happily work with you," he declares.
I groan. "You're not listening to a damn word I've said!"
He glares at me, warning, "Fiona will never agree to marry you. Don't put her in a position where her life's on the line."
"Do you honestly believe that's what I want?"
"You're the king. Figure out a way," he orders.
"I'm trying," I insist .
"Try harder, because you're not marrying my sister," he snarls as the doors shut.
The hum of the lift belt fills the air, and I close my eyes, wishing the solution would present itself.
Nothing comes. All I see is Fiona and everything she represents.
The longer I try to make her image disappear, the worse the dread in my stomach grows. And I can't escape it. There are a few things I'm sure of regarding Fiona becoming my queen: She could never want me, accept me, or be happy calling herself my wife.