Chapter 4
4
Kirill
" W hat was she doing here?" Valentina frets once we get into my car.
"Work lunch," I state.
Worry floods her expression. "If the Omni finds out I've spoken to her without permission, I'll never get a bid for a seat at the table!"
I sigh. "That's not happening."
"I've worked for years!" she cries out.
I turn and put my hands on her shoulders. "Valentina, listen to me closely. Nothing is happening. You'll eventually get a bid."
"You know the rules! If they find out?—"
"You did nothing wrong. I will take full responsibility for this occurrence should there be any consequences. You have my word as king," I assure her.
She lowers her voice. "Kirill, I have to get a seat."
"You will. Now, don't think twice about this," I order, then sit back against the leather seat, staring out the window, trying to cool the hot blood flowing through my veins.
What is it about her?
Why doesn't she seem scared of me?
She didn't cringe when she saw me.
Valentina tears me out of my thoughts, asking, "She knows nothing, right?"
"No," I answer, continuing to look out the window.
"So how does she know you? She knew your name," Valentina points out.
"I randomly met her at a club when she was out with Zara. She ran into me," I admit, fighting a smile as I remember the night she literally ran into me.
"When?"
"Over a year ago. Then, a week ago, we bumped into each other at the coffee shop near Sean and Zara's place," I confess.
"Randomly?"
"Yeah," I affirm, wishing I could get Fiona's face out of my mind so my erection would completely disappear.
We drive several blocks, and Valentina softly claims, "You like her."
My chest tightens and my jaw locks.
Valentina adds, "You do. Don't you?"
I turn my head and open my mouth to deny it, but nothing comes out.
Valentina's lips twitch. She arches her eyebrows. "Well, I'll be. The impossible has happened."
An uncomfortable tightness forms in my chest. "The impossible? "
She nods. "Yeah. You. A woman. Feelings."
"Stop talking nonsense," I order.
Excitement grows on Valentina's expression. She shifts in her seat, turning more toward me. "You do. And from what I saw, she's into you too."
More unfamiliar sensations plague me. "Why would you say such a silly thing?"
She softly laughs. "She's a gorgeous woman. You're a super-fit, sexy man. What's so silly about it?"
"Stop talking nonsense," I snap.
Her face falls, and her voice turns stern. "Your scar doesn't eliminate you from the relationship-worthy pool. I've told you before. You're a good catch."
I grunt and turn toward the window again. Valentina's the only person on Earth I'd call a friend. It took years of working with her before our friendship grew and she got to the point she no longer cringed when she saw me. Now, I fully trust and respect her. And unfortunately, there's no one else I'd put in the friendship category since Sean and Fiona's dad was murdered.
The guilt I feel whenever I think of Sean Sr. mixes with my self-loathing.
Fiona will always hate me.
She can't find out.
It'll be impossible to hide it forever.
She'll want out of the marriage before it even starts, so I shouldn't worry about this.
"You should get over yourself. Fiona's into you. "
"She's not, and your radar is off. Once she's forced to marry me, you'll see the disgust come out," I insist.
She scoffs. "She will have her choice to marry you or not, just like everyone else. It's an arranged marriage, not forced."
"Are you going to claim that when the Omni determines who you'll marry? Because we all know what happens if you don't do what they want."
Valentina takes a deep breath and swallows hard. Silence builds between us.
The driver veers to the right and parks in front of her building.
I get out, reach in to help her out, and she takes my hand. She exits the SUV, and I walk her into her building. When the elevator opens, I put my hand against the door and reiterate, "Don't worry about anything. You have my word your bid is coming soon. But I need you to be patient."
She casts another worried glance at me.
"I promise. You'll get your seat. Soon," I vow.
She sighs and nods. "Okay."
"Have a good rest of your day," I state.
She steps into the elevator and presses the button. She smiles and replies, "You too. Thanks."
"Anytime," I add, and the doors shut. I return to the SUV. My driver accelerates several blocks.
My phone rings. I glance at the screen, and my gut drops. It rings again, and I answer, "Ulrich."
"Meet me for a drink," he says in his German accent.
I glance out the window, replying, "I've got a busy day. "
"It's not a suggestion," he states and then hangs up.
I close my eyes, squeezing my fists. For the first time in years, I'm not fully in charge. The Omni revoked my power regarding anything having to do with marrying Fiona. They voted to give Ulrich Koch the powers taken away from me during this time period. So, any decisions based on my nuptials are out of my control. If he's demanding I meet him, he no doubt wants to discuss my upcoming marriage.
I stare at my reflection in the divider glass, cursing the scar running across my face.
I have to get out of it for Fiona's sake. It's not fair to her.
I roll down the divider window and direct my driver, "Ivan, take me to Nostrovia."
"Yes, sir," he replies, and makes a U-turn.
I put the divider up, lean my head back, and close my eyes. All the arguments I've had with Ulrich and other Omni regarding this arrangement roll through my mind. I think about all the rules of The Underworld I know inside and out, trying to find a loophole, but it's pointless. There isn't one. Sean O'Malley Sr. didn't make loopholes. He created the rules for everyone to obey, and the king has to abide by them too.
Nostrovia isn't far, and the drive seems faster than normal. When Ivan stops outside the bar, I wait a moment, making one last-ditch effort to find something that will stop my pending marriage.
Ivan opens my door before I'm ready, but it's not his fault. I'm never going to be ready to ruin Fiona's life, but unless we want to both end up dead, there's no way to avoid it.
I slide out of the SUV, nod to the bouncer, Victor, and step inside. It's midafternoon, before happy hour, but the worn-down neighborhood bar is busy. I shove through the crowd of regulars and slip into the kitchen. I nod to the line cooks and step inside the walk-in fridge .
My breath comes out in a fog from the chilled air. I continue to the back, reach for the pull handle, and the frosted metal sends a jolt of cold through me. I open it and enter the private, dimly lit space.
Underworld men from all walks of life play poker at several round tables. A scantily-dressed bleached blonde struts around distributing drinks, mostly vodka. Alexsi, a balding, overweight bookie, records bets coming in from his cell.
Ulrich sits in his usual spot, alone in the corner, not participating in the fun. He hates being in Nostrovia, preferring to be in the German Underworld bar based on his heritage. Yet he doesn't have a choice. I'm still the king. This Underworld secret spot is the one I'm most comfortable with, so he has no choice if he wants to meet with me.
He takes a puff of his cigar, then lifts his drink toward me as I grab the chair across from him and pull it out. He nods. "Kirill."
Natalka, another scantily-dressed young woman, brings over a crystal tumbler. She picks up the fifth of vodka and pours. "Can I get you anything else tonight?" She bats her long, fake lashes at me, but her face hardens in a way it doesn't for the others. Her gaze darts to my eye that has the scar cutting through the lid before she quickly tries to refocus.
"No," I say, which is the same response as always. The other men here don't think twice about buying her sexual services, but I wasn't lying to Fiona. I don't entertain prostitutes.
"We're good," Ulrich states.
She pats him on the shoulder and then leaves, swaying her hips.
I take a large mouthful of vodka, relishing the burn as it travels to my stomach.
"The time is near. The moon will soon be in position," Ulrich announces .
My gut curls. I know all about the moon's positions and phases, and the different rituals surrounding them. Yet I protest, "You've not given her time to decide if she wants to be part of The Underworld. She knows nothing about it."
Ulrich's eyes turn to slits. "You shouldn't be seeing her."
My chest tightens. Another thing I've lost due to this debacle is my privacy. The Omni are watching me like they did before I earned my seat at the table. My privileges as king no longer exist. They'll only be restored when I've got a wedding ring on my finger.
Ulrich chuckles. "Ah, you forgot we see everything."
"Then you know it was pure coincidence we ran into each other. And Valentina had nothing to do with it either," I insist.
Ulrich takes a drink, then studies me.
Panic hits me. "Valentina isn't to blame. She had no knowledge Fiona would be there, just like I didn't."
He taps his fingers on his crystal glass. "For every action, there is a consequence. When things occur that shouldn't, the course changes."
My heart races faster. In an assertive tone, I reiterate, "Valentina had nothing to do with Fiona and I running into each other. And don't forget, Ulrich, when this is over, I'll be in charge again."
"That a threat?"
"No. It's a promise," I warn.
He purses his lips.
I lean closer, insisting, "Valentina is not to be punished."
"She will take one step backward," he states.
I clench my fists tight, arguing, "She is innocent. "
He repeats, "For every action, there is a consequence. The course must change."
I grind my molars, pissed he's holding this against Valentina. She's worked hard to earn a bid. She deserves to have a seat at the table. It's not right she has to take a step backward.
He adds, "Her consequence will be?—"
"She'll convince Fiona to go through with initiation," I interject, knowing it's the easiest consequence Valentina can be assigned.
Ulrich studies me.
"I'm still king. That is what will happen. Move Sylvia off the project," I order.
"Sylvia was chosen for Zara and Fiona," Ulrich points out.
"Like you said, the course must change," I declare.
Tension builds, thickening between us. Ulrich keeps his leer pinned on me, and I don't flinch.
I break the silence first, adding, "There's no reason you can't grandfather me as king without a queen."
"That was reserved for Sean Sr. only. You know this," Ulrich asserts.
My gut drops. I push, "He made the law for us to use. I don't need a queen to rule. I've done fine without anyone by my side."
Arrogance fills Ulrich's expression. He finishes his brandy, and asks, "What do you hate the most? The thought of having sex without your mask on or fucking Sean's daughter?"
Anger rushes through me, flooding every cell I have. I scowl, staying quiet, afraid of what I might say or how it'll sound. Both options scare the hell out of me.
Ulrich's lips curve. He continues to assess me and finally says, "You can't hide behind a mask forever. All snakes eventually shed their skin. The time has come for everyone in The Underworld to understand who their king really is without the mask."
I stare at my drink, clenching my jaw, gripping the glass so tight I'm surprised it doesn't break. My stomach quivers, and the thought of what's to come makes me ill.
Before I was scarred, I didn't have a problem with sex. After my disfigurement, I couldn't look at the disgust on a woman's face and stay hard. My skull mask gives me freedom. It allows me to participate in rituals without seeing the repugnance that's pinned on me on a daily basis whenever a woman glances at my face.
"My mask stays on," I insist.
Ulrich shakes his head. "No. Your mask will not be on when you marry your queen. It will not be on during any part of your ceremony. The time has come for you to stop hiding."
"I don't hide," I claim. But it's a lie.
Ulrich sits back and crosses his arms. "There's no point fighting about this. It has been decided."
My hand shakes under the table, and I grip my thigh. The thought of Fiona staring at me with abhorrence makes me ill.
Then another thought hits me. I blurt out, "What ceremony are you giving me?"
Evil crosses Ulrich's expression. He answers, "Unveiling of the Bride."
"No. I won't have it," I protest.
"All the members of The Underworld should be allowed to witness the nuptials. It is a great day of celebration," Ulrich claims.
My stomach twists. I mentally scan the list of rituals and then demand, "I want Knights of the Round Table."
"But that's more private," Ulrich points out .
"I'm king. I have a right to Knights of the Round Table. It's in the laws," I insist.
He takes another mouthful of brandy, then caves. "You're right. I can't stop you."
A bit of relief fills me, but I repeat, "There's no reason I can't be grandfathered in with no queen."
Ulrich opens his mouth, then shuts it.
I lean closer. "Say whatever it is you were about to say."
"I'm thinking."
I stay quiet initially, but then push, "Grandfather me in."
He motions for another brandy.
The server brings him one and he takes a large mouthful. Then he sets down his glass and stares at me.
"Grandfather me in," I beg.
His lips twist and he replies, "I'll make a deal with you."
"Go on."
"What's the only other way to avoid having a queen at your side?" he questions.
I take a minute, wondering what I've missed, then a cold chill flares down my spine. I gape at him in horror.
Excitement expands in his expression and voice. "During the Knights of the Round Table, she can tap out and stay your queen. Or she can choose not to tap out and...well..." His grin grows and he finishes with, "You can rule alone for the rest of your life."
The air in my lungs turns stale.
"What's wrong, Kirill? Isn't that what you want? To rule alone?" he asks .
"I'd have to kill her," I blurt out.
He shrugs. "It would be her choice. If she can't tap out, then that's on her, not you."
My mouth turns dry.
He leans closer and murmurs, "She'll never have to look at you again. All the fears you have of her giving you that look? Well, you'll only have to see it on your wedding night. After that, that expression will be eliminated. At least on her."
The air stifles my lungs. I hate how he knows my fears and how much enjoyment he's getting out of my discomfort.
He rises. "Get Valentina to start the process. And remember, the choice is yours."
I stare at him.
He continues, "Everything in The Underworld comes with choices. Just don't make the wrong one." He winks, pats me on the shoulder, and disappears through the door.
I don't move for a long time, unable to get the different scenarios out of my mind.
I can't kill her.
It'll save her from a lifetime of disgust and hurt.
Why am I even contemplating this?
She'll never get over fucking me without my mask on.
I'm not killing her.
It'd be a blessing in the end for her.
I go over and over scenarios, cringing at every one, hating myself for each option I'm presented with and how I don't eliminate it right away .
This entire situation is wrong. Every ending only brings misery.
"Can I get you anything else?" Natalka offers, giving me the same grimace as before, then quickly covering it up.
I don't answer her. I rise, down the rest of the vodka, and hurry out of Nostrovia. Instead of getting in my car, I walk the city streets for hours, numb to the cold and unable to escape the nightmare of choices in front of me.