Chapter 12 – Eduard
My wife-to-be.
I couldn’t deny it to myself: Calling Marielle that was…pleasant.
So was watching her frown morph into a temporary smile when I addressed her as such when our path crossed on the wedding morning.
I rode with my men while she met us at the courthouse with Agatha. Agatha’s plea—which she made known through Viktor—wasn’t why I allowed her to come to the courthouse. Seeing that she and Marielle were pretty close, I reckoned it would make her feel less alone.
It took all my years of self-control not to walk over to her when Ruslan opened the back door and she stepped outside.
If she was beautiful before, she looked breathtaking this morning. And it wasn’t because of the beautiful white dress that accentuated her tiny waist or how her golden blonde hair was styled into an intricate bun with white pins around it.
It was her unsmiling face. Her slight frown was still evident, but she looked even more attractive as she looked around, as if wondering what would happen next.
“You look absolutely beautiful,” I complimented when she got to the front of the courthouse where I stood.
“Thanks,” she all but grunted.
Inside the courthouse, she stood beside me, her expression rigid. Her jaw was tight, and her eyes looked ahead.
I handed the papers to her, and she signed them with a defiant calm, as if she was daring me to hear my regret.
I didn’t regret it.
“Mr. and Mrs. Yezhov,” the judge proclaimed, earning claps from Viktor, Ivan, Agatha, and Ruslan. “Congratulations!”
My bride scoffed as we turned around to face our witnesses.
She was now mine. Legally.
Glancing at her beside me as we took pictures, she looked like a flame that refused to be snuffed out.
I’d give her time to process. Marriage wasn’t a walk in the park; it’d take time for her to understand what she had walked into.
As we approached the two cars, she went toward the car she had come in before I took her hand, stopping her.
“We’re riding together now,” I told her.
She looked like she wanted to argue, but she just sighed and let me bring her to the other car. I held her hand as she got inside, gathering the ball of her dress before I had a chance to do it.
As the car rolled out of the parking lot, my eyes took her in for the umpteenth time. From her full pink lips to her slender neck, I wondered what it would feel like to touch her, to hold her close.
She, on the other hand, looked outside the window, as if the trees and plain buildings were too interesting to miss.
“I can walk on my own,” she snapped when I offered my hand as we reached the estate.
“Marielle, I have no plans to pressure you to do anything. But I have no plans of stepping back, either.”
She wordlessly opened the door on her side and got out of the car.
You have no idea, baby.
I had shed my suit and was undoing my tie when my bride stormed past my bedroom door, throwing me a glare as sharp as my knives.
“All my things are no longer in my room! What the hell are you playing at?!” she yelled at me, her hands gathering up her dress, her feet void of shoes.
Now she knows.
“We’re married now. You won’t be sleeping alone anymore. Not in this house.”
She moved toward me, her eyes catching her phone beside mine on the bed and her slippers on the floor. Her steps slowed. Her eyes lingered on the open closet where her clothes were neatly folded and tucked side-by-side with mine, her red dress hanging beside my suits.
I watched her deflate, her hands dropping her dress to the floor.
“So…what now? What do you expect of me?” she questioned, her voice faltering just a fraction.
I stalked toward her until I was right in front of her.
“Nothing you’re not ready to give.”
She craned her neck, and I took another step closer.
I brought my hand to her waist, and the soft breath she released drove me crazy.
I brought my lips down on hers. Her lips froze against mine just for a second before she began kissing me back.
I pressed her body to mine as her hands went up my chest and around my neck.
My tongue pushed past her lips, tasting and devouring.
She stepped back, breaking the kiss.
Damn.
Chest heaving, a wry chuckle left her lips.
“What if I’ve never given anything?”
I blinked, trying to drive my desire-ridden mind to understand what she was saying.
“I’m a virgin,” she dropped in a soft tone that I’d never heard her use.
The hint of embarrassment on her face was crystal clear despite her looking away.
I was taken aback.
She’s untouched?
Not even by Lucien or any man? Ever?
My breathing slowed, and my jaw clenched as raw possessiveness washed over me. Restraint was never this hard.
“I guess it’s part of why Lucien liked being around me. He liked my innocence with a dose of playfulness,” she admitted. “I’ve been told it’s what many men desire.”
And now she’s mine.
All mine.
“You should rest,” I told her, my hands on her waist. “And when the time is right, I will claim you,” I whispered into her ear.
Her flushed face was a reward in itself.
***
The only usual thing about the morning was the time I woke up; everything else was different.
I never had a woman in this bed. I never smiled at the thought of waking up beside anyone at all, for that matter.
Marielle’s sleepy face was just inches from mine, and I had to hold back from touching her, not wanting to wake her so early.
But I could watch. And I did.
Her lower lip was a bit fuller than the upper one, and the softness I felt when we kissed the day before flooded me afresh. Her long lashes were dark, unlike her blonde hair that was splayed across the bed like a golden cloak.
She looked so beautiful and innocent, it made my chest tight.
I wanted to drop a kiss on her lips so badly, but I settled for a feather-light kiss on her forehead. Pulling the duvet over her properly, I got out of bed with hesitation. Which was another unusual thing to happen that morning.
It wasn’t my first time sharing a bed with a pretty girl, but the usual thing was me wanting to get as far as possible with them in the morning. Since it was always nothing more than a sexual connection, I had nothing to say to them the next morning.
I kept looking back at Marielle’s sleeping form as I moved around the room, getting ready for the day.
She was definitely the type of wife men rushed home to meet.
***
“Congratulations, Boss.” Leonid beamed as we walked out of the house.
“You congratulated me yesterday. I’m beginning to think you want something from me.”
“No, Boss. We’re happy for you. It’s a big step.”
“Thank you,” I stated as I got into the car.
He didn’t need to say any more. Everyone who knew me would be shocked to hear about my marriage. It was common knowledge that I’d had no intention of ever getting married.
But now, I was.
And the real shock, even to me, was that I was liking it so far.
Well, it wasn’t marriage itself. It was Marielle.
“Dean just called, Boss. He wants to speak with you,” Ivan informed, coming out of the warehouse just as I stepped out of the car.
“Call him back. I’m here now,” I answered, heading toward my office.
“And, congratulations, Boss,” he added, grinning.
“I think I’ll have to ask you all to direct your greetings to Marielle,” I muttered.
“Eduard! How are you doing, man?” Dean’s gruff voice filled the room once the call connected.
“I’m fine, Dean. How’s business over there, too?”
“Very well. I heard you stopped getting your supplies from B. T. I had to pause my order until I heard the reason from you. What’s up?”
“They were becoming increasingly unreliable. You know, five packets less today, ten less tomorrow. I know it’s not from them, but keeping their procedure water-tight doesn’t seem like a priority to them. That’s not something I want to deal with,” I explained.
He whistled.
“We usually have the same issues. It’s not much of a big deal for me, unlike you and your rich customers. I just spread the loss from the missing packets over the price. Easy peasy,” he revealed, chuckling.
“Of course.”
“I was wondering if they delivered nonsense.”
“Not at all.”
“Alright, thanks, man.”
“Sure.”
The call ended, and I got up from the edge of the desk.
“Boss?” Ivan called from the other side of the door.
“Come in.”
“Skye is here.”
“Skye?! He’s in town? Send him in.”
The next minute, Skye was throwing my door open.
“Feels good to be here again, man!”
“How did I not know you were in town?” I asked him as he sat.
“I was behind bars for three months or so. Just got out last week.”
“Tell me something new,” I teased as I went over to my bar.
“Shut up!”
I chuckled.
“I almost had a seizure when I heard you got married. I came to check if your legs were now amputated or if you’re now mentally incapacitated.”
“Those are your wishes for me?” I queried as I set his drink in front of him.
“Those are the reasons you might be in need of an heir so bad.”
He took gulps of the whiskey.
“Well, you’ve seen for yourself.”
“And I’m amazed you eventually went ahead to wife someone up.”
“Everyone is.”
“I should meet your wife soon.”
My wife.
I loved the sound of it.
“You will. That’s if you’re not away in prison again.”
“Maybe if I meet her on time, we’ll be such good friends that she’ll visit me in prison.”
“Dream on.”
***
Marielle wasn’t in the master bedroom—our bedroom—when I got back from the warehouse.
I found her in the study through the security cameras and decided not to disturb her. If she enjoyed exploring the books in the study, she had every right to.
Hours later, I had just stepped out of the gym and was on my way to the bedroom when I saw her approach from the corridor.
We were close enough for me to see her eyes sweep over my body like I was a delicious meal.
It made my chest pump with pride. And desire.
“See something you like?” I asked, my own eyes taking in her body scantily clad in a fitted, off-the-shoulder dress.