Chapter 4
Chapter four
Matysh
Eto vse strogo biznes (This is all strictly business), I tell myself, as my cock twitches beneath my slacks. I can’t fucking stand the sight of Catarina.
But also, my dick can’t stand not to entertain the idea of lifting that goddamn wedding dress and taking her right here over the altar.
“What the hell is happening right now?” Catarina’s voice shakes as she reaches the altar, her eyes bouncing between myself and her father—who only smiles.
“We have to do what’s best for the family, milaya dochka (sweet daughter). This is your new husband. I think you will have a lovely marriage.”
I see the wheels turning in her head as her gaze jumps to the door.
“I wouldn’t try that,” I chuckle, and her head whips back to me. “You’re not going anywhere, moya zhena (my wife).”
She gives me a disgusted look. “Do not refer to me as your wife. That is a title that was reserved for your brother. How dare you—”
“Catarina,” her father cuts in, his voice sharp. “You know what it means to be a Petrov lady. Act like one.” His cutting tone even has me raising my brows.
And I’m not sure how I feel about it, actually, as my pulse quickens slightly.
Do I give a shit how her father speaks to her?
No, obviously.
“Move forward with the vows,” Boris gestures to the officiant, an older priest, who I’m certain has done these kinds of weddings before.
And fifteen minutes of Catarina glaring at me later, we’re married. Honestly, I expected her to put up a little more of a fight, but maybe I overestimated her.
Regardless, the certificate is signed. No kissing required.
Boris follows us from the church to my car as the two of us climb in together. “Remember what we discussed,” he says, leaning to speak through the window. “Treat her like your own.”
My own fucking plaything.
“Of course,” I mutter, and then instruct the driver to take us home.
As the SUV pulls out of the church parking lot, I see a few reporters taking photos. I know they were fucking tipped off and paid to be here.
Everyone has to know, of course. Otherwise, this whole alliance is a waste.
Catarina is silent in the car, staring out the window as she grips the fine fabric of her wedding dress tight in her hands. Her knuckles are a paler shade of white than her skin, and something about that causes me to picture them gripping the sheets as I thrust into her.
Fuck. I already know she’s going to feel so good.
But then again, she loved my brother…and he died on their wedding night.
Two weeks later, she's been handed off to me. I can’t imagine her even thinking of opening her legs for me, let alone letting me ruin her the way I prefer to.
Hmm. Should I give her time? The monster in me wants to drag her onto my lap right now, fuck her mercilessly until she’s screaming my name. However, good business tells me that maybe I should feel this out a little better.
We’ll see if I have that level of self-control.
“Congratulations,” Peter, one of my drivers, says to us as we pull up outside of the house. “Wishing you many happy years.”
Catarina stiffens in the seat, and instead of saying anything at all, she flings the passenger door open and takes off toward the house, her wedding dress blowing in the wind behind her. I watch her go, and then sigh.
Peter chuckles. “She’s feisty.”
I shrug. “I’ll break her. Just like I always do.” With that, I slide out of the SUV, straightening my tux jacket as I follow Catarina into the house.
I have to see this meltdown for myself. It’s just too fucking satisfying.
However, as I chase her up the stairs, I spot Helena and a couple of the other house staff peering from the kitchen, their eyes widened with amusement—and curiosity, too.
For some reason, that bothers me.
“Vzyat' vykhodnoy (Take a day off),” I snap at them, nodding to the door as all of them hurry away.
Catarina lunges forward at the sound of my voice, nearly breaking into a sprint as she heads for the bedroom she spent the last two weeks in. As she reaches the door, I grab for her.
“Let me go!” Catarina shouts, yanking her arm away from me. “I fucking hate you!”
“Thank you. That’s a hell of a compliment,” I shoot back at her, letting her stumble into the room. I slam the bedroom door shut behind us as she puts space between us.
Let the breakdown commence.
“I can’t believe this,” Catarina paces in front of her bed, running her fingers through her soft blonde hair, messing up the waves that were so perfectly put together. “I can’t believe he did this to me. I just lost Mikhail.”
“Oh, so sorry for the loss of your one-month long love affair being cut short,” I snort, shaking my head as I lean against the wall. I get that I made a promise to my brother. I get that he loved her. But also…
One month is one month.
“What the fuck is going on?” Catarina shouts at me again, her voice breaking by the end of the sentence.
She stops pacing and stares at me, panic etched on her face. Her blue eyes are wide and watery, and I wonder if they’d look that way if she was choking on my dick. “How could you let this happen?”
I tilt my head at her. “You think this happening to you is bad? Look at me,” I taunt her. “I’m forever stuck with Petrov pussy who preferred my brother.”
“How dare you talk to me like that,” she takes a step toward me, her face flushing.
“I kind of like it when you get all worked up, ogonyok (Little Flame). It gets me hard.” I take a step toward her, closing the distance.
“You’re fucking disgusting,” she nearly spits in my face, and I want so badly to wrap my hand around her pretty little throat and show her how disgusting I can be. “Tell me why this is such a great business deal. I thought this alliance was being forged because I fell for Mikhail.”
“Well, I guess we decided it was too good of a deal to turn down.” I shrug my shoulders. And a message needed to be sent. But I hold that last fact to myself.
And the nonchalance pisses her off. “God, it must be nice to just have the power to treat women like bartering chips.”
“It’s a fucking piece of paper,” I laugh dryly. “Your job is to be a good wife, and I’ll give you the heir.”
Catarina’s eyes burn with fury. “I think I’d rather drink my own vomit.”
“Oh? Well, I’m sure that can be arranged.” I give her a wicked smile. “You’ll be fine.”
But that’s not enough. She keeps opening her mouth. Fuck, that’s annoying.
“Do you really think this is going to work?” She starts pacing again.
“You saw what happened at my wedding. If Mikhail was killed because of this union, somebody's going to be coming for both of us very soon,” Catarina continues, trying to argue her way out of this marriage even though both of our names are already signed on the certificate.
“There has to be some other way to have an alliance without…this.” Catarina looks at me, a frown tugging at her lips.
I think that might be the first time I’ve ever evoked that reaction out of a woman who was not my mother or grandmother.
“Someone could kill us.” She stares at me.
I laugh. “You can’t kill a man who’s already dead. Let them try.”
“Ah, you really are the devil they call you then,” she mutters under her breath, shaking her head. “Disgusting.”
“You’re full of compliments tonight.”
“Fuck you,” she bites back, her blue eyes burning with the same hate I have for her simmering in my chest. “I was supposed to be with Mikhail.”
“Trust me, I wish you would’ve been,” I growl, feeling a strange pain in my chest. “Do you think I enjoy tying myself to the woman my brother was supposed to marry?”
I watch as her body tenses, and she stops pacing, coming right for me.
Catarina glares up at me. “This isn't about want. This is about survival. I’m not stupid. I am well aware you don’t like me anymore than I like you, and I bet your brother is rolling in his goddamn grave for me to have to be this miserable. ”
I lean down, my nose nearly brushing hers. “He’ll really be rolling when I bend you over and rail you.”
She opens her mouth like she's going to say something, but she quickly closes it and I hear a soft inhale that almost weakens my resolve. Catarina shakes her head and walks by me, planning on storming to the door.
“If this is peace, then I’d rather have war,” she says.
I grab her arm before she's out of reach and stop her. I don't know how I can be clearer with her. This isn't a negotiation. She will understand.
“War has already killed my brother,” I grit out, just as she turns back to look at me. Her eye make-up is already running down her face, but I finish my point anyway. “Don't let his death be for nothing.”
That breaks her and her shoulders slump forward as she lets out a quiet sob. I have this sudden urge to reach forward and comfort her, but I hold back. All I can worry about right now is making sure I uphold my end of the bargain with Boris.
I give her a moment, letting her dry her eyes and take a few deep breaths to control herself. I can sense the apprehension wafting off of her as if it were my own. She knows what being married to me will entail and she's nervous.
Silence falls between us for a few moments, and my eyes shift toward the window. It’s snowing again, and as much as I swear my soul is blackened, I can’t deny I love the winter. Maybe it’s because I’m so fucking cold. I don’t know.
“We have to…” Catarina’s voice comes out in a whisper, but still cuts into my thoughts. “We have to have an heir…For peace…”
It’s not a question. She’s just stating the facts she figured out by now. I’m hesitant for a moment, recalling that this is supposed to be just as much of a message as it is about peace. But I don’t correct her. My cock will never turn down good pussy.
Even if it’s my dead brother’s supposed-to-be wife.
“I want to get it over with,” Catarina takes a step toward me, her eyes dry now. “I don’t want to prolong it. Just get it done with. But you should know something…”
I furrow my brow, bracing for the worst. “Yes?”
“I haven’t done it before.”