Chapter 14 Elena
CHAPTER 14
ELENA
Elena paced up and down the carpet. She was stuffed back in the room she’d woken up in after she injured a Bratva soldier. Vasili had grabbed her first. Hit her first. Was going to do much worse, given the chance, but none of that mattered. Not in their world. There, she was just collateral, a nobody. Vasili had demanded her blood, and she had been ushered away by some guy called Yuri, awaiting the fallout ever since. Anxiety rode her hard, making her heart beat as if it were on steroids.
Being a lioness was great when you were in a jungle and were top dog. Not so much when you were imprisoned inside a fortress filled with burly men carrying guns. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
When was she going to learn? The best-case scenario was they would kill her. The worst-case was she’d be gift-wrapped and handed over to that beast. She just hoped Vicky wouldn’t find out. Surely Viking would make sure their daughter wouldn’t become a witness to her downfall.
Just thinking of him made her ache. His eyes had been blazing when he’d entered the living room. The thinly-veiled rage on his face had taken her aback. Even being surrounded by all those men, sitting on top of a coffee table, her eyes had immediately found him. Crazy as it might sound, she had felt safe in his presence. More stupid thoughts.
Everyone’s eyes had been glued to the man on Viking’s right. From the way people viewed him, and the way he had sent Katya away, that must have been Kristoff Romanov. The absolute lack of emotion in his eyes had actually made her thankful for the rage in Viking’s. He might be volatile and pissed off, but at least he felt something. He was human. She wasn’t so sure about the Romanov guy. Sure, he looked all fancy in his black suit, but there was something about him that gave her the chills.
The door opened with a bang. She looked up, hoping for it to be Katya. Sadly, it was Baran. She’d seen walls that looked less hard than his face. Her heart leaped into her throat.
“Put on your shoes.”
“Why?”
He shook his head and gave her a disgruntled look. “Don’t put on your shoes. Like I care. Let’s go.”
“Wait. Where are you taking me?” she asked, as she grabbed her sneakers from the floor. Wherever they were going, she had no intention of showing up with bare feet.
“Somewhere you don’t deserve to be,” he said vaguely.
“Well, that clears it up,” she snapped back as she tied her laces.
“Let me put it like this, Viking’s being merciful. You should be thankful,” Baran claimed.
“Merciful? Sticking me in a wine cellar for days and then in here seems merciful to you?”
“My ancestors would have done much worse.”
“Ancestors, you say? Were they perhaps related to Attila the Hun?”
He frowned, looking surprised. “Actually, yes, they were. In the Ottoman empire, traitors like you were impaled or strangled. I suggested it to the big guy, but he hasn’t taken to it yet.” He shrugged. “He might if he survives today.”
Survives? She didn’t know whether he was serious or not.
Baran opened the door and suddenly she came face-to-face with Viking. He had been waiting in the hall, hands crossed before him, his face stone cold.
He put a hand on her lower back while they walked, as if afraid she’d run if he didn’t hold her.
Viking took her downstairs, passing a library and the kitchen. He suddenly stopped in front of a door. Was this it then? Was he delivering her to her death by his own hand? Nerves had a field day in her stomach, making her nauseous.
“Listen to me carefully,” Viking ordered. “Your life depends on it. As soon as we enter that room, you will look down. We get in there and you keep your eyes to the floor.”
He really expected her to go down without a fight, like a lamb willingly led to her slaughter?
“Right. I don’t think so.”
He pushed her against the wall and got in her face. His huge frame blocked the light, placing her in his shadow.
“Do as I say. I don’t give a shit what happens to you, but Vicky would. I can’t fail her again because her mom decided to mouth off against a brigadier.”
“I didn’t—”
He cursed and his hand went to her throat. Her heart started pounding, and part of her wondered if this was it. Was he finally going to do it? Would he finally squeeze her throat shut and end the misery they were trapped in?
Viking didn’t seem to be faring any better than she was. There was an energy that surrounded them, coating their bodies, fusing them to each other like magnets. While their bodies mixed and matched, the same couldn’t be said about their minds. Hers still refused to believe he would hurt her. Unless he put a barrel to her head, she would take her last breath holding onto hope, believing that no matter how angry he was, he wouldn’t harm her.
His corded muscles looked ready to snap her like a twig. His eyes bored into her, condemning her over and over again. The grim line of his lips appeared ready to snap at her again. Call her stupid, but she refused to give up hope. They had made a promise to one another. They had promised each other forever. To her, it didn’t matter that it had been sixteen years ago. Even if he forgot, when he had erased her memory from his existence, she refused to do so. For Viking was the only man who ever made her heart beat. The only one whose presence alone, skin to skin, made her forget all and everything around her. In a world filled with so much hurt, he was her one constant. The father of her child, the bane of her existence, whatever he was, he was hers. Even if the stubborn man didn’t realize it.
That didn’t mean she would let him be her executioner, though. If he was the one who was going to lead her to that swine who had groped her, she wouldn’t just submit. She was no longer a scared teenager. Her skin had hardened, her claws had sharpened, as had her mind. She lifted her chin, refusing to back down.
She ignored the silent tears that betrayed her anguish. Little pools that wet her cheeks and clung to the fingers still grabbing her chin in a vice.
A muscle beat in his jaw. “There’s nothing more I want than to punish you for what you did. You’re not taking that away from me and giving it to some Russian asshole. So listen carefully. I don’t wanna hear another word from you for the rest of the day, except for the word yes.”
“What?”
“That’s not a yes.”
Dammit. What was going on?
“You better be worth it.”
Did she imagine those words? What did they even mean? He grabbed her hand and nodded at Baran. The latter threw open the double doors. The room was filled with the same people who had witnessed her attack and then some. Katya’s face was the only friendly one in the sea of people she didn’t know. Then she remembered she was supposed to look down. When she saw Vasili scowl at her, that’s exactly what she did. Part of her hated herself for showing him her fear. The sensible side of her brain went haywire, screaming at her to—for once—do as she was told. Her survival instinct kicked in and she stared at the floor.
Viking all but dragged her to a man near the window, sitting behind a table. His hand on her shoulder pressed her down to sit. Everything after that was like a bizarre dream.
In hindsight, there had been three decisive moments in her life. Three times she had made life-altering choices that haunted her even today. The day she’d decided to run off with Viking, the day she’d married his enemy, and the day she’d caught Viking with Giorgia.
And now, this.
The man cleared his throat. “We are gathered together here to join…”
She blinked as the man, who apparently was the minister, continued.
“…to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part…”
Before she could process what was happening, she was repeating the words and then spoke one additional word. Just as Viking had demanded.
She said yes.
And so, it happened. She was tied to Viking Skarsgard forever. A day she had once dreamed about. Had wished for more than anything else in the world.
Why did it feel like a life sentence?