16. Irina

16

IRINA

V iktor dropped me off and waited until I got into my building before driving off. I couldn’t be sure what his game was with me. I also couldn’t begin to guess why he’d been at that party. It was in an even seedier part of town than the other one where I saw him.

A professor going down on his student in his office was scandalous enough. But his happening to show up at a party I was supposed to spy at, then rescuing me from men who thought they could do as they wanted with me?

Weird.

I called everyone I could in my father’s employ to reach him. He wasn’t answering his phone, but that didn’t stop me from calling nonstop.

Leave it to him to be unreachable when I would be demanding an explanation for why Andre Ilyin or anyone else in that family would think that I’d be arranged in a marriage with them.

Finally, after hours of pacing in my apartment, Peter knocked on my door. I opened it to glare at him. “The Boss is not available to take a call tonight.”

I glowered at him even more. “Tell me something I don’t know.” I already knew he wasn’t answering.

“But I asked around and it sounds like this is just a rumor.” He shrugged and rubbed his chin. “Maybe it’s all bullshit.” He hadn’t confirmed nor denied what Andre said when he’d stopped by my place.

“A rumor?” I huffed, not buying that. Rumors could be spread and machinated for any number of reasons. Lies were a common currency many in the Mafia used. But that explanation didn’t add up after what happened at that party. Those two Ilyin men hadn’t been joking around when they came up and told me I was going home with them. That was no rumor or prank. They’d meant it.

But my father wasn’t available to explain why a rival family would be following a rumor about an arranged marriage with me. He wasn’t available that night, nor at any time the next day and night. I had to struggle with the unknown for two whole days. It set me in a constant state of anxiety to the point that I stayed in my apartment and didn’t dare to leave.

Rumor or not, if an Ilyin spotted me and tried to whisk me away, I couldn’t count on my father’s men to care. They wouldn’t know whether it was a legitimate deal or not. They didn’t give a damn about me to begin with, seeing me as a problem, not a relative. No one had come to that party—my driver had just dropped me off and left me on my own.

The idea of marrying an Ilyin, Andre or not, felt like a death sentence. I didn’t want to marry a rival. Doing so would ensure my life would always be a business transaction. There would be no end to the drama and politics. I didn’t want to marry a Mafia man at all.

Marriage was the last thing on my mind now, especially after meeting Viktor. He’d made me come. He’d saved me. He seemed to care. Even though I couldn’t discern why he cared, he did, and that meant a lot to me after a lifetime of being used or neglected, stuck between those wild extremes.

If I was expected to get married, I couldn’t begin to guess what that would mean for Maxim. I was the only one looking out for him. If I belonged to a husband, Igor wouldn’t have power over me anymore. What would that result in for my brother? Would Igor just kill him? He would have no incentive to toe the line and provide for him if I could no longer be his spy.

Wait a second.

Another dreadful idea hit me when finally, two nights after I heard about my supposed engagement, I was on the ride to his house.

What if he’s making me marry an Ilyin so I can spy further in depth, in their house and in their family?

The prospect of being a pawn and a spy forever would be enough to drive me to suicide.

I didn’t wait for the driver to open my door after we arrived. I strode inside, seeking out my father who couldn’t be bothered to answer his phone for two fucking days when his daughter called. He had probably been shacked up with one of his mistresses, acting like a lord and getting pampered.

“Why would anyone in the Ilyin family act as though I am to be married to one of their men?”

That was my greeting. I crossed my arms, cutting straight to the matter at hand.

He grunted, pausing while eating his dinner. Enough food was splayed out on the table for six people, but he was a gluttonous asshole to waste it all on himself. “How polite you are these days. No hello.”

“Fuck manners, Igor.” I didn’t care if he disliked my tone. “Answer me.”

He grunted, rolling his eyes. I expected him to bristle at my attitude, to tell me to watch it. He must have been amused by my question, though, because he cleared his throat and wiped his mouth with a napkin in preparation to speak. “I didn’t directly say anything on that matter.”

Bullshit. This rumor had to have started somewhere. My level glare told him what I thought of his comment.

“I may or may not have let some rumors get carried away, though.”

Ah-ha.

“But it doesn’t matter for you, anyway. Whether you’re arranged to marry or not, you will not act any differently.” He lifted his head, tipping his chin up as he narrowed his eyes. “I expect you to remain a virgin for your husband. Whenever I do choose one, whoever I decide upon, you will be untouched. Because that fact should not change, so what does it matter if the Ilyins want to amuse themselves and run with this idea?”

Just when I thought I couldn’t have hated him more.

“Let them think what they want,” he said, lowering his gaze and shrugging. “One day, I will be the one and only main boss in this area. I will then call all the shots and have every say over any rumors that originate.”

He’s just playing games. That’s all this is to him. This diabolical asshole was playing a game with my life, with my future. “Tell me the truth. Am I or am I not promised to anyone?”

He looked at me like I was being silly to want to know. Resuming his dinner, he barely paid me any attention.

“The Ilyin men are trying to capture me. They attempted to at that party you wanted me to go to.”

He shrugged. “If they attempt it, then you will be retrieved as I see fit.”

I narrowed my eyes, lost in how he could order me to remain a virgin but also turn the other way and ignore what could happen to me if I were captured by a rival.

“Am I promised to anyone!” It was a question, but I couldn’t frame it as one, too angry to stand still. Fisting my hands at my sides, I fought the urge to leap over the table and throttle him. Let him choke on his dinner. “Am I promised to an Ilyin?”

He scoffed, relenting at last to answer me. “Of course not.” He let out an exasperated sigh. “Of course, I don’t want you married to one of those idiots.”

You fucking asshole! He could’ve just told me that first. He could’ve answered directly, but no. He had to fuck with me and play mind games just for his enjoyment, just to peeve me.

“Why would I want you married to the losers I want to push out of power?”

I didn’t reply, seething and too furious to speak.

“Just play along with it. In fact, ignore it. Don’t even speak about this. Do as I ask, and that’s it.” His expression hardened once more. “Do as I tell you and spy on that campus. That’s all you need to worry about. And if you give a shit about that worthless brother of yours, I can count on you to do your duty.”

I stared him down, damning him for ever taking advantage of my love for Maxim.

“Are more drugs being circulated?” he asked. “Are there new dealers after the Ilyins’ last shipment to the area?”

I didn’t reply.

He pounded his fist on the table, but I didn’t jump, used to his dramatics. “Answer me!”

“No.”

He stood. “No, you’re not going to answer me?”

“No, to the best of my knowledge, there are not any new drugs being traded or sold.”

“What about Marcus James and Eric Benson? Is anyone trying to get any favors with the dean’s office?”

I hadn’t even tried to snoop there. And I didn’t want to. With him pressing me for answers, all I wanted to do was run. Run far and fast and never stop. This wasn’t the life I wanted.

Without another word, I turned and stormed off. Enveloped in fury, I walked right back out front where the driver was still standing outside the car, smoking a cigarette.

“Already?” he asked.

As if I’d ever want a visit here to be long. “Yes. Can we leave?”

He shrugged, tossing his cigarette then smashing it with his shoe on the icy pavement.

I got in the backseat and asked, “Can I go visit Maxim?”

“He said no. Until further notice.”

I fisted my hands again, uncaring how my arms vibrated and tremored with the force of my muscles being used. I was so desperate to feel some hope. Some love or minor concern. More than anything, I craved the security and consideration I felt when Viktor helped me at the party. The deep pleasure and shocking relief when he’d made me come in his office.

I wasn’t on the hunt for naughtiness with him. I was just so sick of feeling this loathing, this hatred and rage. It was consuming me, from the inside out.

I’d never been so mad at Igor, stunned that he would play a game like this to lead the Ilyins on. He’d let them think I’d marry into their family when he had zero intention of ever letting it happen.

I stared out the window, fuming, but I couldn’t be too upset about not seeing Maxim at this hour. It was late for him. But I couldn’t just simmer and sulk at my apartment, left to nothing but an idle mind and too much anger.

After I was dropped off, I grabbed my tote bag and walked to the library. Reading and studying probably wouldn’t solve anything, but I was that eager to get out and do something before I drove myself insane.

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