Chapter 10 – Val
Two days after the attack on my mansion, my house was graced by the Bratva elites. They’d informed me beforehand of their arrival. At first, I thought they wanted to discuss the details of the attack. However, I realized soon after that the reason for their arrival was the little shutterbug.
She stood across the board in the dimly lit room, chin up, eyes devoid of emotion, even though I knew she was dying of fear. I could only imagine what she was going through at the moment, watching her fate being deliberated upon by a bunch of mean-faced men old enough to be her Father.
“She knows too much. And we have rules,” Akim said, his gaze cold as ice, his one eye shifting across the other men at the table.
Akim Antosha was one of the fiercest members of the Bratva elite, an old man in his late sixties, known for his strict adherence to the Bratva’s rules and codes. The man would even turn on his own family if the brotherhood demanded it of him.
He was a loyal dog who never questioned anything about the system.
Even at his old age, his loyalty to the Bratva hadn’t wavered; he’d pick the organization over his wife and children anytime, any day.
His blind loyalty was once admirable when I was younger, but as I grew older, I realized just how damaged Akim was.
“Are you saying we execute her?” Ilya asked, his voice laced with disbelief.
Ilya, despite his ruthlessness, had always been a compassionate person. The old man had a weakness for women and children and would never support any agenda that would involve endangering these two categories of human beings.
He’d sent thousands of men to an early grave with no remorse whatsoever. But each time women and children were involved, he’d suddenly grow a conscience.
“She’s the reason Val’s mansion was attacked. She’s seen our operations and knows of our existence,” Damien chipped in, his voice deep and hoarse.
“She’s just a child, for Christ’s sake,” Ilya insisted, his eyes shifting across the men around him.
“A child whose presence alone has cost us important partnerships, not to mention the two men who lost their lives in the recent attack,” another, Igor, said to Ilya.
“Oh, please, like you give two shits about the men.” Ilya rolled his eyes, his tone laced with subtle fury and disdain.
“She’s in too deep now,” Akim added, reclining in his chair. “She’s seen all our faces and God-knows what else. We need to act fast.”
My gaze flicked toward her, and for the first time in a long time, something broke inside me.
Watching her struggle to stay calm in the midst of all this madness was quite remarkable.
Especially because she was so terrified and unsure of her future.
At this point, I bet she wasn’t even sure she’d make it out of this room alive.
“Let’s put a bullet in her head,” another suggested. “Harvest her organs, sell them on the black market. That’ll make up for the deals that stupid photo cost us.”
My fingers curled into a fist on both hands, my blood boiling at the audacity in Sergie’s tone. In my head, I’d put a bullet in his skull three times already.
“I’ve always known you were sick,” Ilya said to him, his face contorting into a frown.
“I say we sell off to the highest bidder,” Damien proposed, his gaze sweeping over her figure, a smirk on his face. “She has a pretty face. I’m sure she’ll do well as a sex worker.”
Okay, that does it.
My jaw tightened, and just when I was about to rise to my feet, I felt Ilya’s pull on my hand. Fuming, I glanced at him, and he shook his head. The look in his eyes told me to let it go, that it wasn’t worth it. Out of the respect I had for him, I reluctantly adjusted in my chair.
Damien had no idea how close he’d come to having facial reconstruction surgery. His proposal pissed me off, especially the way he looked at her with so much lust in his eyes. Damien had always been a perv, and the fact that he’d already undressed her in his mind annoyed me even more.
Wren, a sex worker? I couldn’t bring myself to picture it. How dare he suggest that for her?
“No one is putting a bullet in her head,” I began, my expression dark and unreadable. “No one is selling her off either.” My gaze darted toward Damien.
I was 35, but I was the youngest at this table, and that was why I only listened in silence this entire time. But at this point, it appeared these men had decided to end her life in a miserable way. It was time I stepped in.
“Okay, then, smartass. What do you propose?” Sergie asked, throwing the question at me.
I looked up at her, then at Ilya, before dropping a response that silenced the whole room.
“Marriage.”
Stunned glances were exchanged, and time itself stood still; even the walls held their breaths.
“You must be joking,” Akim said, a frown settling on his face.
“As a matter of fact,” I replied, a self-satisfied grin playing on my lips, “I’d never been more serious in my whole life.”
Wren glared at me from her corner, her chest rising and falling with slow breaths, her misted eyes blazing with fury. If she had a gun right, she’d kill every last one of us in this room. That was how mad she was. Her face had turned red, and her brows were furrowed with deep creases between them.
I didn’t care how pissed she was; this was the only way to save her life.
“Val has every right to take her as his wife,” Ilya said to the others. “Making her a Tarasov automatically exonerates her from all crimes against the Bratva.”
Damien, with a scowl on his face, said, “But it also makes her one of us. If she becomes one with Val in holy matrimony, she gets access to all the privileges that come with that title.”
Ilya yanked up an eyebrow. “Do you have a problem with that?”
Silence.
I leaned back in my chair, fingers drumming on the table as I watched them murmur amongst themselves. They didn’t seem pleased with my decision, but there was nothing they could do about it. My mind was made up.
Akim cleared his throat and edged closer, placing both hands on the table. “Valerian Tarasov,” he began, his eyes pinned on me. “I advise against this plan of yours.” His gaze darted toward Wren, then back to me. “You know nothing about her, and something tells me she will not fit in.”
I looked him dead in the eyes and answered, “Marrying her is my decision and my decision only.”
“Yes, but that photo she uploaded on the internet didn’t only affect you; it affected the business,” Sergie added. “Are you willing to risk all that we stand for just to save some pretty whore?”
My face tightened into a frown, fingers clenched into fists on both hands. “You will watch the way you address my future wife.” I leaned in, seething in silence. “I will not tolerate any disrespect from any of you. I’ve made my choice, and that is final.”
They hated the way I spoke to them, the way I defended the woman they’d condemned to death. Akim and the others loved being feared and revered. They basked in their power and in how no one below their ranks dared question their judgment.
The fact that I refused to follow their rules was enough to put me in their bad books. But I couldn’t care less. I wouldn’t let a couple of bitter old men control my life and dictate my every move.
Tension was thick in the air, with intense glares directed at me as if I cared. They exchanged looks among themselves, whispering words I didn’t bother to listen to.
My eyes shot in her direction as she stood sentinel with a locked jaw and a deep scowl on her face.
“Alright. It’s settled then,” Ilya announced, his gaze flicking across our faces. “Valarian will marry the girl.” His voice was laced with finality, leaving no room for arguments.
The council didn’t like it, but they had no choice but to accept it.
In a single file, they all exited the room after the meeting was over. Ilya was the last to leave, and he was the only one who beamed a smile at my wife-to-be. He didn’t speak to her, but the grin on his face spoke volumes.
When he closed the door behind him, she snapped, unleashing all that pent-up anger.
“How could you!” Wren barked, rushing toward my chair, eyes blazing with fury. “How could you suggest wasting my life in a marriage that we both know will never work?!”
“It’s the only way to keep you from harm. Believe me, you have no idea what these men are capable of,” I replied, calm as always.
She scoffed and shook her head in disbelief. “I wouldn’t be in harm’s way in the first place if you hadn’t kidnapped me!” Her voice rose with each syllable, and on the last, she slammed her palm on the table.
I didn’t respond, just watched her express her rage.
“I was fine on my own until you showed up and ruined everything.” Her hands sliced through the air as she spoke, her tone filled with frustration.
My gaze was unwavering, my stone-cold heart thawing at the pain I saw in her eyes.
She continued, “Ever since our paths crossed, I’ve had to survive things that I never should’ve. You locked me up in a fuckin’ dungeon, starved me, and bound my wrists behind my back.”
I watched the words pour out of her in an angry rush.
“You kept me here against my will despite knowing that I was innocent and had no ill intentions when I posted that stupid picture.” She pointed an accusing finger at me. Literally. “Because of you, I almost got killed. I had a gun to my face, Val, a fuckin’ gun!” Her voice echoed through the room.
Still didn’t respond. What could I say at this point? Everything she spat was true.
Her chest rose and fell with slow breaths, her voice dropping somewhere above a whisper. “And now, I was forced to watch a bunch of mean old men debate whether I deserved to live or die.” She scoffed, wiping an invisible tear with the back of her hand.
She drew closer, her eyes locking with mine, her voice a low whisper. “Do you know how it feels to stand in a room full of devils in suits and watch them talk about selling you off, like you’re nothing more than some piece of property on an auction block?”
Silence.
She shook her head, biting the inside of her cheek to hold back the tears welling in her eyes. “This is all your fault, Val. And this marriage proposal is nothing but failed damage control.”
For the first time in a really long time, I felt an emotion I’d buried years ago. Guilt.
She straightened and wiped her tears so quickly, like she didn’t want me to see her cry. “Thank you, Valarian Tarasov. Thank you for ruining my life.” With that, she walked away, a hand over her eyes, faint sobs spilling from her lips.
“Fuck,” I murmured, slamming a fist on the table. I ran a hand through my hair, a million thoughts tugging at my mind, threatening to rip it apart.
Things just got more complicated than I imagined, and I couldn’t help but sense a storm coming. One that I might not be ready for.