Chapter 23
Nine Months Later
Y ulianna
Using the back of my arm, I moved the hair falling into my face out of my way. The messy bun had been as temperamental and unruly as I’d been lately.
Dipping my brush into the paint I made bold strokes with the chalky-white color. This piece was my favorite. It was an abstract flare of a naked woman bursting from bold colors that had turned into flames and wings. The image had woken me up in the middle of the night, and I just had to paint her rising from the ashes like a phoenix. It was how I saw myself.
The sun’s bright rays poured through the window making the colors that much more vibrant, and my heart smiled. It was perfect.
I heard the commotion outside my door before it burst open, and Christov stormed in, closely followed by two of my guards. I was only mildly surprised that my father hadn’t taken this opportunity to storm up here with Christov, but he’d kept his distance like I’d ordered him to.
“Yes, you look very sick and bedridden,” he growled.
Ignoring his fury, I swirled some white and orange paint together for a softer highlight.
“Sorry, I should’ve waited and thrown up on your shoes. Next time, I’ll be sure to do that.”
“Do you want us to toss him out,” Vlad asked, earning a glare from Christov.
“No, it’s fine. Please give us some privacy, but leave the door open in case I change my mind,” I said.
Vlad and Mylo nodded and walked out. But when Christov tried to close the door, Vlad pushed it back open.
“Ms. Mikhailov has requested the door remain open. So, it will,” he said, crossing his arms.
Giving up, Christov walked toward me. His face was the picture of pure rage, especially since I continued painting and refused to acknowledge his temper tantrum.
“What do you want, Christov,” I asked, applying tiny details to the wings.
“What the hell do you think I want? We were supposed to be married as soon as possible. First, you wouldn’t set a date. When you finally chose one, it was months away. Now, here we are the day before, and I get a call from your mother claiming that you are ill and the wedding must be postponed. Do you have any idea how much of a headache and expense it is to move a wedding?”
“No, can’t say I do,” I drawled.
“It costs a fortune,” he snarled.
“I guess it’s a good thing my father is footing the bill then, isn’t it?”
I could hear his teeth grinding, and enjoyed every second of the frustrated sound.
“That’s not the point, and your mother says that the church’s next availability is February. That’s seven months from now.”
“Terrible, isn’t it? Almost like God doesn’t want to see this union happen,” I said and managed to keep the smirk off my face as he turned a violent shade of red. “Tell me, Christov, why do you care?”
“What? What kind of stupid question is that?”
I turned to face him as I wiped some of the paint off onto my coveralls.
“I want to marry you so we can start our life together,” he said, and it took everything I had not to laugh at the absurdity.
“Don’t take me for a fool, Christov. You only want this marriage because of the money, clout, and contracts you’ll gain.”
“That’s not true.”
“Isn’t it? I’m sure your girlfriend Alina would say otherwise.”
“So, you know about Alina, what does that matter? I’m allowed to have sex with whoever I want until we are wed.”
“I honestly don’t care who you have sex with before or after our marriage. We both know it’s a farce for appearances only. What I can’t figure out is why you didn’t marry her if she’s who you really want?”
He didn’t say anything.
“So, I did my homework Christov. I know who she is, where she came from, and how you two met. What I want to know is…why me? Why did you choose to use me as your cover?”
Everyone had a story, and I didn’t care that Alina was a prostitute he met at a brothel. What concerned me was that I was being dragged into the mess, especially after overhearing their plans to kill me. I kept that knowledge to myself. He would just speed up the timeline.
“If you plan to use this information against me, just know that it won’t work.”
I laughed and set my palette down before fixing my hair.
“No, Christov. I’m not like you. Call me genuinely curious.”
He crossed his arms.
“Money and to get back at Edmundo. I hate him, and hurting you hurts him,” he said.
“That’s the most honest you’ve ever been with me. But if you’re trying to hurt Edmundo, you’re too late. That ship has sailed.”
“What are you talking about?”
“He got married today.”
Christov tried hard to keep the shock off his face but failed. Picking up my paints again, I turned my attention back to the art.
“No matter. I still plan on marrying you,” he stated, and I shrugged.
“We’ll see.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“It means exactly what I said. We will see.”
The tip of the brush moved swiftly over the area where I added caked-on ash, crumbling away.
“You will marry me, Yulianna.”
“I may, but I’ll keep pushing out the date as long as I can, and then once we are married I’m going to make your life a living hell.”
He stepped closer, and I turned around to face the threat. His eyes were filled with rage, but I refused to back down.
“If you want to hurt me, you’ll have to do better than wave a whore under my nose. You’re nothing but a parasite feasting off the success of another man and using a woman to get what you want and couldn’t do yourself. That makes you pitiful.”
I looked him up and down before locking eyes with the lowlife once more.
“What my father sees in you, I’ll never understand. Edmundo is a thousand times the man you’ll ever be. And if you insist on marrying me, I’ll do everything in my power to ensure that the world knows what a spineless piece of shit you really are.”
“You bitch.”
Crack.
The pain from the slap was instant. My palette and brush flew across the room as I hit the floor. The heavy boots of my guards were all I could see through the tears that sprang to my eyes.
“Get off of me,” Christov growled as they dragged him toward the door.
“Make sure he remembers not to hit a woman on his way out,” I ordered.
“With pleasure,” Vlad and Mylo said.
Pushing the hair out of my eyes, I smiled and wiggled my fingers at Christov before I started to laugh. Oh, he was predictable, that was for sure. Point for me.
I was just pushing myself up as Vlad ran back into the room.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Thank you for the quick garbage removal,” I said as he helped me stand.
“You’re welcome. I didn’t even want to let him in. He has a mean streak. I’ve known many men like him, and if you keep pushing, he’s going to snap and do worse than smack you,” he said as I touched my cheek.
“I know, but I need to stand my ground.”
“You want him to kill you?”
“Oh, he’s already planning that. I want him to show his true self. Maybe then, and only then, my father will see who he’s tied me to. Make sure my father’s guards casually hear about Christov mistreating me today. Maybe one of them that has his ear.”
“I will, but that’s risky, Yuli,” he said, real concern shining in his eyes.
“I know,” I said, patting Vlad’s arm. “Even if it doesn’t work, at least I tried, and I’ll move on to my next plan and then the plan after that until…well, lets just say that I’ll be free one way or another.”
He gave me a small smile and shook his head.
“You’re quite the woman, Yuli. I’ll go get you some ice for your cheek.”
“Thanks, Vlad. Can you please shut the door on your way out?”
I waited until it closed before I picked up my phone and called Paul. It rang three times before he answered. Loud music was playing in the background, but I could tell he was walking away as the noise began to fade.
“Yuli. Hey, sorry about that.”
“It’s fine. I assume you’re at the reception?”
“I am, but it’s good to hear your voice,” he said, making me smile.
We’d become close at Wayward, and our friendship had continued even after I left.
“Don’t try to change the topic with flattery. Just give it to me straight. How was the wedding,” I asked, hating the thought of Eddie standing at an altar with anyone but me.
“Honestly?”
“Honestly.”
“It should’ve been you. They looked like stiff cake figurines.” That image made me smile. “And this may be my own bias, but you would’ve made a far more exquisite bride.”
“Thanks, Paul. You always know what to say to cheer me up. I’ve really appreciated your friendship.”
“You’ll always have it, Yuli. You know that I love you and Ed, and I’ll do anything for you.”
I touched my sore cheek and the sting was a reminder of what I was fighting to escape. “That’s good because one of these days, I’ll ask you for that favor.”
“Name it, and it’s yours.”
“Thank you…oh, and Paul. I know you made a dashing groomsman.”
“I really do,” he said, making me laugh. “I better get back to the party, but Yuli….”
“I know….go have fun.”
“I will, and I’ll tell him that you love him,” Paul said and hung up the phone.
Covering my mouth, I swallowed down the pain like I had every day since my birthday. There was so much bottled anger and resentment at this point that I was sure my blood was toxic. As one fat tear slid down my cheek, I reminded myself that it was all part of the plan. But it didn’t stop the sharp pain piercing my chest.
“One day, Eddie. One day, we’ll have our happily ever after if it’s the last thing I do.”
Edmundo
“Can you at least try to smile and pretend that you’re happy,” Patricia asked as we danced.
Instead of responding, I stopped and walked off the dance floor without her.
“Eddie, where are you going?”
“To get a drink,” I said, aiming for Paul and Marcus, who were standing near the bar.
Paul held out a glass, and I didn’t even bother to ask what it was before swallowing. The whiskey burned all the way down my throat to my stomach, but it couldn’t burn away the ache in my chest.
This marriage was for contract purposes only, and it still felt wrong. Nothing about the day had been the way I’d imagined my wedding. Everything, from the million and two guests, the lavish flowers that Ana would’ve hated, and what felt like a ten-course meal that cost a fortune, was wrong.
“You look like you’re going to throw that back up,” Marcus said, screwing up his face.
“I don’t know if I can do this. Living the lie for a day is bad enough. What if it ends up being years?”
I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to stop the pounding in my head that had started this morning and only gotten worse.
“You’ll do what you have to do,” Paul said, and I glared at him. “Patricia can’t be worse than Christov. Think of the bullshit Yuli is dealing with.”
“Don’t,” I said, pointing at him. “I want to hop on my jet and fly there right now. It’s taking every ounce of willpower I possess to keep my shit together.”
“My point is that if she can deal with him, then you can handle this,” Paul said, grabbing the empty glass from my hand and giving me his instead.
“I hate logic,” I growled as a hand clapped me on the shoulder.
I looked up to see Mr. Mencioni.
“There’s my boy. I have to say that I’m elated you came around. Listen, I know you are booked for your honeymoon starting tomorrow, but as soon as you’re back, I want to talk about expanding some real estate. There are three locations overseas that will be perfect for state-of-the-art office buildings. We’ll make a mint.”
“Papa, are you talking business already? Eddie and I have barely been married a few hours,” Patricia said, and I rolled my eyes. She was like a bloodhound I couldn’t escape.
“Guilty as charged. We’ll talk in a week, Son.”
“Yup,” I said, managing a smile despite my lack of enthusiasm.
As soon as he was out of earshot, I glared at Patricia.
“What did I say about calling me Eddie?”
Patrica sighed. “Not to, but I like it and….”
“I don’t care if the Pope told you to use it. If you do it one more time, then we’ll be divorced the same night we got married. Shortest wedding in history.”
“Fine, you’re so touchy. Just because this is a business arrangement doesn’t mean you have to treat me like I’m the enemy,” Patricia said, crossing her arms.
Remembering what Paul said, I thought about Ana and everything she was facing. We’d formulated a plan to get out of this hell, and I needed to play my part.
“You’re right, I’m sorry. But don’t expect me to be happy. This is not what I wanted. Don’t fool yourself into thinking it will ever be more than a marriage of convenience. You didn’t want to marry a fifty-year-old man, and I get the added assets from your father’s business. Understand?”
Patricia looked around and then nodded.
“Yeah, I get it. The party will keep going for hours. Do you want to stay or get out of here?”
I was tempted to stay, but I would probably end up passed out in a corner surrounded by liquor bottles.
“Let’s get out of here,” I said, and she smiled.
This was a bad fucking idea, and yet, the stock value in all of my companies had gone up before the ink dried on the marriage certificate. Grabbing a knife off a nearby table, I clinked the glass Paul had given me, and the music stopped, as did everyone else.
“Patricia and I just wanted to thank all of you for coming today. You’ve made our wedding very special. We are retiring for the night, but party on for as long as you like.”
Cheers went up around the room. I held the glass in the air before chugging it back and handing it to Paul, who just shook his head.
Patricia linked her arm with mine as we left the ballroom. We walked down the hall and took the elevator up to the penthouse suite. With each step my feet felt heavier and it had nothing to do with the alcohol. My body was physically revolting against going into that room.
“Are you going to carry me over the threshold?”
Had she lost her mind?
“No.”
Pushing open the door, I was thankful for the silence.
All day had been a constant buzz of activity. It started with pictures, then greeting the endless line of guests, and I couldn’t forget the neverending church service. I had to keep looking at Marcus and Paul to remind me not to pull a runaway groom. The final nail was the reception, where I had to fake being the happiest man in the world for people I didn’t know. My head was aching, and my heart hurt worse than any migraine.
Grabbing a bottle of water from the kitchen, I headed for the bedroom with Patricia right on my heels.
“Can you help me with the zipper,” she asked, her voice seductive like that was going to make me want her.
I nodded, and she turned around. I unclipped the top hook and pulled the zipper down before grabbing my suitcase and heading for the door.
“Where are you going?”
Patrica clutched the white dress to her chest as she stared at me. I half expected her to let it fall, to try and lure me into staying. That wasn’t happening. Nothing she did would ever make me want her.
“I’m sleeping in the other room. What does it look like I’m doing?”
“I thought…well, you know. I thought we’d have sex. That’s normal after a wedding.”
I shook my head at her.
“There is nothing about this situation that’s normal, Patricia. No, I’m not going to consummate the marriage with you. Not now, not ever.”
“But…that’s not fair. I married you. You owe me this.”
I laughed, but not because I thought what she said was funny. It was quite the opposite. The alcohol and anger swirling inside of me required an outlet. I needed to get away from her before she said something stupid, and we got into it on day one of this farce.
“Yes, you married me, but as I mentioned downstairs it was only to get away from a pervert. So don’t act like you’re not getting anything out of this arrangement. Wasn’t it you who said this was the best of both worlds? A marriage of convenience and no strings?”
“Well, yes, but I still thought we would have an heir. That’s expected of us. We can just do it until I get pregnant, and then….”
I held up my hand, stopping whatever she was about to say next.
“No. If you want a sperm donor, I can ask Marcus. He’s drunk enough to fuck you. Or you can find a clinic, and I’ll claim the child as ours. But you will never have my heir, Patricia.”
She crossed her arms and pouted like the princess she was, but underneath it all, I saw a swirl of something darker. Good, now she knew exactly how I felt, or at least understood it better.
“Never ask me again.” I turned to leave, then stopped and looked at her. “And if you ever try something so stupid as to drug me or sneak into my bed at night, make no mistake…I’ll kill you. Goodnight.”
In the room down the hallway, I made sure my door was locked. As much as I wanted to wash away the events of the day, I didn’t bother to change or shower. Instead, I pulled out my phone.
E: God, I miss you more than a sunrise after a thousand days of darkness.
Y: How am I supposed to compete with that?
Biting my lip, I laid back on the bed.
Y: I hear the ceremony was beautiful.
E: No, you’re beautiful. It was ostentatious and annoying. But it’s done, and I hated every fucking moment.
Y: I love you, Eddie.
E: I love you more.
Y: Impossible.