Chapter Eight
Andrey…
"Fuck, Andrey!" Roman sounds frantic. "You have Iris, right? All I know is that you bailed her out of jail. By the time I found out where they took her, she'd already been released."
"Yes, I've got her," I say, loosening my tie and stripping off my suit jacket. "She's safe, but she's exhausted."
"She didn't go back to the apartment. Rose would've told us," Violet speaks up. "Where is she?"
I'd called Dmitri, the Pakhan, first to prep him before this conversation. He was not happy with me. But he said he understood. I doubt these two will be as understanding as he was.
"I need to tell you that Iris and I were married tonight." No sugarcoating it. I let it settle for a moment before the phone explodes with curses and threats.
"What the fuck do you mean, you're married?
" Roman roars. Violet is asking questions in a soft, frantic tone and he takes a deep breath before he continues.
There's rage vibrating in every word. "You'd better be joking, Andrey.
But you're the most humorless bastard alive, so it seems unlikely. What have you done?"
"You were in the meeting where I was told I had to obtain a bride and get married," I say reasonably.
"Not to my fucking sister-in-law!"
"Why not? She's ideally suited.” I outline all the reasons I'd given Iris and he is no more receptive to them than she was.
There's a brief sound of the phone being wrestled away and then Violet's shouting. "You bring my sister right back right this minute! I don't know what bizarre game you're playing, but you're not going to include Iris in this. For fuck's sake, Andrey, she's only twenty!"
"I'm aware of her age." I unbutton my shirt with a sigh of relief. "However, all the reasons I've outlined here are still valid. You know that I will treat her with respect. She'll want for nothing."
"That's not a good enough reason!" Violet sounds frantic. "How could you do this? You're an adult! How could you take advantage of her?"
"Do you know, Violet," my tone is cold and precise, "that she was facing attempted murder charges?
That suddenly, three more felony arrests popped up in the NYPD records once she was arrested?
Would you prefer that I leave her there in that jail to stand in front of a judge later today and face a laundry list of charges? "
"Attempted murder? Iris? There's- there's no way." Violet gasps before charging ahead. "You could have fixed that without marrying her."
"I had to call in a ridiculous number of favors to make those charges disappear," I say, pouring myself a drink. "Roman may not be affiliated with the legal side of the business, but I'm sure he can tell you that."
"Is this because you needed a bride? You just looked around and thought, oh, that girl, she seems fine?" Her voice is rising with every word and I pull the phone away from my ear.
"It was a felicitous moment," I say. She lets out a shriek of outrage. "As I said, your sister will want for nothing. I will take care of her."
"She's not a pet!" Roman shouts.
"That's true." My tone is colder than the ice in my drink. "She is a felon who was about to face an attempted murder charge. If she's adult enough to bring that kind of hell down on herself, then she's old enough to be married."
"She's been… wait. Rose and Iris have still been doing 'play' crime?" Violet says. I hear the despair in her voice and for a moment, I almost feel sorry for her.
Almost.
"Let Iris sleep in," I say, pretending I didn't hear her sad little question. Let Roman handle it. He knew what they were up to the night of his anniversary party. "We'll see you here at the penthouse at noon.”
"You- okay, you don't get to tell me when I can see my sister," she snarls. "Iris has been in captivity before and I will not let this happen again!"
Roman murmurs something gentle to her, but I hear a scuffle as he tries to take the phone from her. I check my watch with a sigh. He finally regains control of the phone. "Noon, Andrey," he says, his tone back to furious. "We'll be there at noon."
I don't sleep. I do a brutal workout. I lift more than I should, I run longer than is necessary. As the sun rises over the buildings behind me, I have never felt better.
Iris is curled up on her bed, still wearing her wrinkled wedding dress, mascara smudged down her cheeks. Seating myself next to her on the mattress, I attempt the gentlest tone I have.
"Wife, wake up. We need to talk."
She bolts up, instantly awake and nearly slamming her forehead into my nose. I pull back just in time. Scrambling back against the headboard, she holds a pillow to her chest. "Every time we ‘need’ to talk, everything gets worse."
"Marrying me does seem to be an upgrade from twenty years in prison." I hand her a mug of coffee. She takes it, eyeing it suspiciously before her gaze lands on my glass.
"What are you drinking?"
"A kale and protein smoothie," I take another drink as she watches me in horror.
"Oh, god," she moans. "You're one of those."
I shouldn't be enjoying this as much as I am. I've never had a woman look at me like this. "One of those?"
"Yeah, kale smoothies and energizing morning runs? You probably don't eat anything but organic greens and chicken breasts, so you can drink heavily but keep your muscle mass up?" Iris stares at me judgmentally.
I'm wearing jeans and a t-shirt, the long sleeves stretched around my biceps. "You enjoy categorizing men, don't you?"
"And you don't?" she asks, folding her arms over her chest. This pushes her breasts up higher, but I don't look down.
"Drink your coffee," I say instead. "You're going to need the caffeine boost."
"Yeah, that doesn't sound sinister at all," she says, but takes a sip. "Oh, this is good."
"Half coffee and half sugar, the way you like it. Roman and your sister will be here soon. They were not receptive to the news of our marriage."
She coughs on her coffee. "You think?"
"You need to get cleaned up. They will be here soon." She watches me suspiciously over her mug. "I have pastries and bacon for you in the kitchen."
"Wow, talk about lowering your standards." For the first time, Iris smiles. "Are you going to have to burn sage to clear the bacon and cholesterol desecration before it infects your kale?"
"Just get dressed." I leave the room before she can catch my amused expression.
Once she looks presentable, Iris joins me in the kitchen, watching me suspiciously as she nibbles on a croissant. "What did you tell Roman and my sister?"
"That we were married." I've moved on from my kale smoothie to black coffee. "There was an expected degree of upset on their part."
"They're taking me home," she says with complete certainty. "This is going to be a very short union."
"No." It comes out flat and uncompromising, but the sooner she accepts this is happening, the better for everyone involved.
"I want you to think about this, Iris. You've enjoyed all the benefits of being part of this family without anything having been asked of you.
Being part of the Bratva involves sacrifice, it means working towards the greater good of the Morozov family. "
"Marrying you is for the greater good?" Iris is incredulous enough to put down the cheese Danish she's been devouring.
"You and Rose have been accepted into our circle. I'm sure you've seen or heard some of the things Roman and Alexsey have gone through. This is what I mean. You've never been asked for anything before, have you?"
Her cheeks flush a painful red. "No. But- I mean, if there had been something I could have done, I would have. But expecting me to give up my life because you need a wife to look good is insane."
"My appointment to the State Supreme Court means the Morozov Bratva is untouchable.
Anything that hinders this endangers everything we've worked for over the last ten years.
" I rotate my shoulders, still sore from my workout.
"I don't expect you to give up your life.
You will finish college. If you want to work in marketing or PR, you can.
Your petty crime spree is over, but I don't plan to lock you in the penthouse like a captive.
You will still have your friends. I suspect you'll grow closer to all the Morozov wives. They will join you in criticizing me."
"What about sex?" She wipes the crumbs off her fingers, moving two stools away from me.
"What about it?" I make my tone silky; I'm looking at her, thinking about having her stripped bare, writhing under me.
"I don't want to have sex with you," she enunciates.
I'm a little amused. I've never had to chase anyone before. Women usually said "yes" before I could finish the sentence. I never brought them here though, or gave them a reason to think it would be anything more.
Leaning back, I watch her stiff, defensive posture, as if she's poised to take flight. "I suspect you will want to have sex with me. A great deal."
"So vain," she scoffs.
"I've never had any complaints."
"I don't think you realize how much I dislike you."
"Women have never talked to me like this before," I say. "You're very outspoken for a twenty-year-old."
"As icy and unpleasant as you are, I've dealt with worse men than you."
I lean closer, looking into her eyes. They're a light amber shade, not brown. Even bloodshot, they're mesmerizing. Then, I deliver the killing blow. "If you take on this role and do your duty for the family, Rose should be free to marry anyone she likes. Though I am hoping it's not Jeremy."
"Don't." Her remarkable eyes fill with tears. "Don't use Rose against me. There must be some depth that you're not willing to sink to."
There's a buzz and I press the remote to allow my private elevator to open. Roman and Violet come charging out, and when he spots me, his nostrils flare like a bull's. "You," he jabs a furious finger at me, "have exactly five minutes to explain this before I shoot you in the face."
"You're not going to shoot me," I say.