Chapter 3
Chapter
Three
NIKOLAI
T he table is crowded with men all trying to place bets. Most of them are losing the poker game whereas I’m winning.
I tend to win. And it isn’t because I’m naturally gifted at poker. It’s because no wants me to lose and punish them for it.
I’m a fair loser. But my reputation precedes me. No man or woman wants to get on my bad side.
It’s evident that one man is losing the most. He keeps putting more and more chips into the game and doesn’t get any in return.
“Do you need help?” I ask, leaning over to talk to him.
He’s older—probably in his fifties—with a sour face and greasy gray hair. “I don’t need any fucking help,” he mutters.
“Ok. I just saw you were losing a lot and wanted to offer my services.”
“I don’t need any help.”
I back off and play my own game.
After a few more rounds, the man is clearly struggling. He doesn’t have any more money to play.
“I need this,” he says more to himself than to anyone else at the table. “I need this money.”
“I’m Nikolai,” I say, offering my hand to him.
He looks me over, taking in my scar (as everyone does) and then tentatively shakes my hand. “I’m Charles.”
“Well, Charles. I can help offer you money. Put you back in the game.”
He eyes me over suspiciously. “Why would you offer me money?”
“Because that’s what I do. I help people.” An utter lie. I hurt people, but this man doesn’t need to know that. “Of course, I’ll expect you to pay me back at a later date, but we can work through those logistics later.”
Charles offers me a grateful smile. “All right. I’ll take it.”
And I give him the money.
And that’s how it all starts.
That’s how it always starts.
A few months later, Charles comes to me in a frantic fear. “I know I was supposed to have your money, Nikolai, but?—”
I hold up my hand, cutting him off, and lean my forearms on the table of the booth. It’s my own private booth at a bar— Duke’s Place —in the middle of the city. The owner pays me a monthly fee to make sure no one robs the joint. I’m always glad to help when there’s something in it for me.
“But you don’t have the money. Don’t sweat it, Charles. You can find another way to pay me back.”
Hope gleams in his eyes. “Really? How?”
“By offering me something. You see, I offered you money, and it’s only fair you offer me something in return.”
He pats his pockets. “But I don’t have anything to give right now. I swear, I can pay you soon.”
“It doesn’t have to be money. It can be whatever you think is valuable.” I lean back in my seat. “I know you have debts you have to pay off, Charles. Lots and lots of debt. I also know you were once a rich man. I’m sure being without money isn’t easy. I can pay off all your debts.”
“It’s—”
“Five million dollars. I know.” I let out a low whistle. “That’s a lot of debt, Charles. But I can pay it. All you have to do is offer me something you truly believe is valuable.”
He thinks on it for a long moment before sitting up straighter in his seat. “My daughter.”
A flash of disgust for this man passes through me.
But also curiosity. “Your daughter,” I clarify.
“Yes. She’s nineteen. An adult. She’s beautiful. Here.” He grabs his phone and pulls up a photo.
And I have to say, the girl is beautiful. Stunningly beautiful. Soft blonde hair that falls around her angelic-looking face. I’m surrounded by a lot of beautiful women. It comes with the territory of my job. Many people want to get close to the head of the Bratva.
But the problem is none of those women are ever mine. Sure, they’ll fuck me, but they’ll never love me. It’s not just my scar; it’s my nature. I’m not a man who is lovable.
But to own another person … it’s not something I’ve considered before. I may be a monster, but I don’t traffic in people.
Yet, as I look at her picture, there’s something about this woman that makes me want her. Maybe it’s her innocence. Maybe it’s the strong desire to have another person fully belong to me.
Or maybe I’m just a fucking bastard who wants her because I can.
“You would give me your daughter,” I state again.
“Yes. You asked me to consider something I have that’s valuable, and she is. She’s a virgin.”
I stare at him harder. “You know this.”
“I do.”
“And how do you know this?”
“Because I made sure no boy ever got close to her when she was younger.”
“But she’s an adult now, Charles. Can’t she do what she wants? Fuck who she wants?”
“Sure. But she’s not going to. My hold on her is too strong. I can give her to you if you pay off all my debt. I’ll never ask for any more money ever again.”
“Somehow, I doubt that. A man like you will always ask for more money. It’ll never be enough for you.”
He splays his hands onto the table. They’re thin and white and bony like spider fingers. He doesn’t have the kinds of hands that can kill someone barehanded. Not like my hands.
“I swear,” he says. “I’ll never ask for more ever again. Just pay off my debts. Please.”
“And if I say no to taking your daughter?”
“Then I’ll find someone else who’ll take her and pay off my debts.”
I’m not a good man. I’ve never pretended to be. But the thought of this woman being given to someone else sets my skin on fire.
“What’s her name?”
“Ava.”
A flicker of desire passes through me. “You’ll really give her to me?”
“You really want her?”
I stare at her photo once more. “Yes. I want her.”
And just like that, our deal is sealed.
AVA
Nikolai drives me home. Neither of us tries to make conversation. My tears have dried by now, but I can still feel the remnants of them on my face. He doesn’t comment on them nor does he ask. I’m glad for that. I don’t need pity from the man who bought me.
I sneak a glance over in his direction and catch him looking at me. Or, more specifically, looking at my legs. My dress ends at mid-thigh. I try to discreetly tug at the hem, but it doesn’t matter. He can see my legs, and there’s no stopping that.
Fortunately, he doesn’t look for long, and he doesn’t make a comment about my body, for which I’m grateful. My father would always comment on my body—from how much I’d grown to how indecent I was just by existing.
I step back through the front door and see Edmund still standing there. He offers me a smile. I don’t smile back.
It isn’t a smiling matter.
Before I can walk away, Nikolai grabs my arm. It’s not too tight, but it’s not gentle either. “You will not run again; do you understand me?”
“I know.” I know I won’t be free of him no matter how hard I try.
He nods once then lets me go. I hurry back into my bedroom and curl into a ball on the bed. This is my future now—being scared and alone in a strange home with a strange man who wanted me so much he bought me.
And now, he wants to marry me.
How am I going to survive any of this?
When I wake the next morning—and it’s a miracle I even fell asleep in the first place—I’m shocked by the sight in front of me.
Wedding dresses. Multiple wedding dresses. Five to be in fact. All laid out around the room for me to choose from. It’s comical. Nikolai offering me a choice of wedding dress but not offering a choice in husbands.
I never dreamed of my wedding as a little girl. My father would never have allowed it. In his opinion, I was supposed to remain an innocent, untouched, little girl forever.
But I’m a woman now. I may still be untouched, but I’m not innocent any more. Not after everything that has happened. How could I be?
I have no idea what to do with all these dresses.
There’s a note attached to one of the dresses. It reads, Try them on and pick one .
He makes it sound so simple.
I study his handwriting for a moment—blocky and sturdy. Like a man’s.
Each dress is so different from the other. One is a mermaid style, another a princess one, another more slinky and sexy. One is completely lace, and the other is more bohemian.
None of them feel like me.
But I don’t have a choice, do I?
After trying them all on, I finally settle on the lace one. It’s the most modest. It’s not just that I’m shy about my body; I also don’t want to give Nikolai the chance to admire my body like he did back in the car.
The dress fits perfectly, which means Nikolai knows my measurements. But how does he know those? Even I don’t know my measurements.
I take the dress off as soon as I decide to wear it.
And there’s a knock on my door. It’s Mrs. Brown again, coming back with another trayful of food. “Did you choose a dress, dear?”
I point to the lace one.
“Oh, good! That’s such a lovely one. Mr. Petrov will love to see you in it.”
“I’m not marrying him.”
She pauses before setting the tray down. “Well, dear, he wants to marry you, and he’s not exactly a man you say no to.”
“How can you be all right with this?”
She hesitates then stands up straighter. “As I said before. I needed a job, and Mr. Petrov offered me this one, no questions asked. I do what I must.”
I scoff. “No. Nothing in this life is worth money if it means losing your honor.”
“Ava, dear, don’t talk to me like you know my life. You don’t.”
“My mom and I left my father even though he was rich. We made it on our own without him. He was a horrible man. He sold me to Nikolai. So don’t talk to me about not knowing your life. What’s happening here is wrong. At least tell me you agree with that.”
She walks over to me and stares at the lace dress for a long moment.
Then she grabs my hand and squeezes. “He owns you now, Ava. And I wish I could I help. I do. But I can’t help you escape, so don’t ask me to. If you want my advice, it’s this: try with him. Make it easier on yourself.”
“I could never love a monster like him.”
“Maybe not, but it would make your life easier if you let yourself feel for him.”
Mrs. Brown’s words settle in my stomach like cement. Heavy and toxic, and there’s no escaping it.
The worst part of it all—she has a point.
This would be easier if I could just give in to Nikolai.
But I can’t do that, and there’s no use pretending I ever could.
Edmund brings me to the church to be married.
Just this morning, I was choosing my wedding dress, and now, I’m getting married.
I stare at the church, an older, Gothic cathedral, which would have been pretty if not for the circumstances. Instead, the church reminds me of a gaudy prison.
Edmund gets out and opens the car door for me, but I don’t move. My body is stuck to the chair like glue. Moving me from it would only hurt me.
“You have to get out of the car,” Edmund says gently.
“No.”
He glances at the church nervously and back to me. “Please, Ava. You have to get out. Mr. Petrov is waiting for you. He won’t be happy if you don’t show.”
So far, other than buying me, Nikolai hasn’t done anything to hurt me. No physical abuse. No mental abuse. The one who truly hurt me was my father when he gave me to Nikolai.
But that doesn’t mean I trust Nikolai not to hurt me later on.
Once I get out of this car, nothing will ever go back to the way it was. It can’t. My mom is dead, and there’s no changing that.
Nikolai is my life now because he’s made it that way.
I step out of the car without taking Edmund’s offered hand. If I’m going to do this, then I’m going to retain the tiniest bit of independence.
We walk into the church, and there, at the end of the aisle, is Nikolai with a priest next to him. There’s no one else around.
It dawns on me—my mom won’t see me get married.
I let out a soft sob that echoes through the church. From this distance, I can see Nikolai’s eyes narrow. Is he angry with me for being upset? Or confused?
I don’t know how to read him because he’s a stranger to me.
Edmund gently takes my arm and helps me walk down the aisle. There’s no music. No happy, smiling guests. There’s only Nikolai and me and the loss of my own agency.
Nikolai takes my hand without asking for it. His touch is strong and firm yet not painful.
“Shall we begin?” the priest asks.
“Yes,” Nikolai responds without taking his eyes off me. I can barely look at him. It’s not the scar across his face. It’s his eyes. They’re piercing like they can see right into me. He makes me feel like I have secrets, but I don’t have any. I was just an innocent girl before all this.
Nikolai is a man with secrets. You don’t become someone like him without them. But I’ll never ask what his secrets are because to ask implies intimacy, and I can never imagine becoming intimate with him.
The priest spouts off the vows, and I barely listen. I’m too preoccupied by Nikolai’s presence. He commands it. I doubt he’s ever ignored when he walks into a room.
And now, he’ll be my husband.
Does his power make me powerful, too? It doesn’t feel like it. Not one bit.
“Do you, Nikolai Petrov, take Ava Roberts, to be your lawfully wedded wife?”
I startle at my full name. No one has said it since I was brought to Nikolai.
“I do,” he responds in a clear voice, staring right into my eyes. His grip on my hands tightens.
The priest turns to me. “Do you, Ava Roberts, take Nikolai Petrov to be your lawfully wedded husband?”
I stare at the priest. “Can’t you help me?”
“Ava,” Nikolai says in a warning tone.
“Do you, Ava Roberts, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?” the priest repeats.
I’m not going to get anywhere with him.
“You’re mine,” Nikolai reminds me.
I bow my head. “I do, then.”
He places his finger under my chin, raising my gaze back up to his. “Don’t be so sad.”
“How can I not be?”
Without a response, he motions at Edmund, who approaches and hands over a ring. Nikolai takes it and slips it onto my finger. As with everything else, it’s a perfect match.
He covers my hand with his own, claiming me once more. I’m truly Nikolai’s now. It doesn’t matter if I married him under duress. Something tells me a man like Nikolai can get away with anything.
The church doors open, and multiple men, all in motorcycle jackets, enter.
“What are you doing here?” Nikolai demands.
The man in front, who’s handsome in a rugged way, spreads his arms out wide. “We wanted to wish you congratulations.” He pulls out a gun, and Nikolai immediately pushes me behind him. The priest takes off running. Edmund remains by his employers side.
“You killed our president,” the front man says.
“I made you president, Maxim, and this is how you repay me?”
“This is a warning. I won’t kill innocent people. But you, Nikolai, I’m coming for you.” He motions for his men to follow, and they all leave the church.
I let out a slow breath. “Who was that?”
“Nobody who matters. Come on. We should get back home anyway.”
“Why?”
He gives me a long, hard look. “Because it’s our wedding night, Ava.”
My body turns to ice for just a moment before I turn and run. He chases and grabs my arm. “Please, no. I can’t do this. I said yes to marrying you, but I can’t do this.”
He places both of his hands on each of my arms, forcing me to look at him. “You will get ahold of yourself. You are mine now, Ava.” He lets me go and puts his finger back under my chin. “I know you’re afraid. I don’t blame you for that. But I have a code: I don’t hurt women. I won’t rape you if that’s what you’re thinking. But you will spend the night in my bed. Is that understood?”
As he speaks, his voice and breath flows over my face, and I find it strangely soothing. Just for a second, I lean into his touch.
And then I snap out of it and pull back with a nod. “I understand.”
“Good. Let’s go home.”
Mrs. Brown and Claude are waiting in the entryway when we get back.
“Congratulations!” Mrs. Brown exclaims, which just upsets me more.
“There’s a wedding cake in the kitchen,” Claude tells us.
“I’m not hungry,” I say as Nikolai says, “That sounds wonderful.”
We share a look.
“You still haven’t eaten much,” Nikolai comments. “You’re going to have a piece of the cake.” He holds my hand as we go into the kitchen, keeping his thumb pressed over my wedding ring. It’s another a reminder that I’m his.
The wedding cake is huge. Four layers tall, all white. It’s beautiful, and I bet it tastes delicious. But my stomach rumbles at the thought of eating it. This cake is just another reminder of how I’m not my own person any longer. I’m Nikolai’s.
He cuts off a piece and holds it up. “Open.”
Slowly, I part my lips. His eyes darken as he looks at me, and goosebumps break out over my flesh. He places the cake on my tongue and steps back. It is delicious, which makes me hate it more.
“Now, your turn.” He hands me the knife.
For just a second, I consider stabbing him with it. Nikolai clearly has the same thought. “You wouldn’t get far,” he says, nodding at the knife.
I cut the cake instead and pick off a piece. He opens his lips, and I place the cake into his mouth. It’s so intimate. He’s my husband, but he’s a stranger. He wants me to share a bed with him tonight, but I would rather stab myself.
Nikolai doesn’t make me eat any more of the cake. We bypass Edmund, Claude, and Mrs. Brown on the way up the stairs. Edmund and Mrs. Brown offer me sympathetic looks, which serves to make me more afraid.
Nikolai takes me back into my bedroom and not his own. I don’t question it even though I want to ask him about it.
We stare at each other, neither one moving or saying a word.
And then Nikolai takes out a small pocketknife. I gasp as he comes closer to me with it. “Turn around.”
With a gulp, I do as he says. His fingers brush my hair over my shoulder. I shiver. He skims his hands down to my waist but doesn’t fully touch me. My heart pounds so hard, I think I might pass out from the pain of it.
Then I feel the press of the knife against my upper back, right where the start of my zipper is. He cuts the dress off me instead of using the zipper.
I hold the dress to my chest as he opens the back of it. When his bare fingers touch my bare back, I don’t know whether to run away screaming or lean into his touch. It feels strangely good.
I hate myself for even thinking that.
The reason my mother is dead is because of my father. But the reason he went after me was because of Nikolai, and my mother was in the way. Nikolai is partly to blame, and I can never forgive him for that.
He presses his back against mine, letting me feel all his hard ridges through his suit. I gulp. Hard .
“Let go of your dress, Ava,” he says into my ear. His breath washes over me.
My arms remain rigid. “I can’t.”
“You can. Just lower your arms. It’s easy.”
“You frighten me,” I admit.
“I frighten everyone.”
“That doesn’t make me feel better.”
He chuckles darkly. “Do as I say, Ava. I said I won’t hurt you, and I won’t.”
“You already did when you bought me.” There it is. I finally said it out loud to him.
“Your father was a gambler. He owed me, and he gave me you. If you want to be mad at anyone, be mad at him. I was just there. It could have been anyone he sold you to. Consider yourself lucky it was me.” He brushes his fingers over my ring. “You’re mine now, which means you have the protection of the Bratva itself. You’re safer now than you’ve ever been.”
Somehow, I doubt that. I think Nikolai is just telling me what I want to hear.
“Tell me the truth.”
“I am. You’re safe at my side. But if you ever leave it, then that would put you in danger. I’m a dangerous man in a dangerous world. Your father was a part of that world, which made you a part of it. You were in danger all your life without even knowing. Now, you’re just aware of it. So, take off your dress. I want to see you.” He steps away from me.
Working up my courage, I let my hands fall to my sides, and my dress falls with them, landing around my feet, leaving me in nothing but my white bra and panty set.
“Turn around.” His voice is deep and commanding.
A flash of … something hits me between the legs. It can’t be arousal. It just can’t be.
Slowly, I turn to face him. Nikolai is sitting on the bed, his forearms resting on his knees. His eyes darken as he takes me in.
I resist the urge to fidget.
“You are beautiful,” he says. “What do you think of me?”
“Do you want the truth?”
His lips quirk. “Yes, I want the truth.”
“You terrify me.”
“I know. What else?”
“I think you’re a monster. A beast who preys on innocent people.”
He stands up tall, towering over me. “Trust me, Ava. No one in this world is truly innocent. Not even you.”
“I am,” I whisper.
He brushes the back of his hand over my cheek. “Then why is your face flushed? Is it fear?” He leans down to speak into my ear. “Or is it something else?”
I gasp and pull away from him. He doesn’t touch me again.
“Goodnight, wife,” he says before leaving the room. I don’t know why he didn’t stay when he wanted to spend the night together before.
But I don’t question it. All I can think about is his question and whether he’s right.