Chapter 3 - Roman
It was too easy. Far too easy.
Thinking about it is almost enough to make me laugh.
Viktoria walked through the parking lot clutching her things, looking off-kilter, likely from being alone into the night.
That was her first mistake…the second was not having even a shred of security detail on her.
I had my guys do a sweep of the area just to make sure there weren’t any Nikolaev goons hanging around, maybe even hoping to use her as bait to lure me in. But there wasn’t a soul around.
No…the small town was almost too quiet, and I couldn’t help but feel like a monster in the shadows lurking on a poor, innocent woman.
Of course, I knew better than that.
She’s Maxim’s sister. Surely, she at least had the survival instincts to know she was falling right into my trap.
Evidently, that didn’t seem to be the case when we moved in and surrounded her. She was unarmed and only carrying her purse, making the job much easier.
It was certainly poor planning on Maxim’s part, and I can’t help but wonder what he was thinking, parading her around like some school teacher.
Given how defenseless she seemed, it’s almost a believable disguise.
But why tuck her away in some small California town? Why give her this false identity?
Something in me wants to assume it’s all for some greater plan, but I have the feeling it’s much simpler than that. It’s more than likely he just wants to keep his prized horse a secret…to hide away that asset until the time is right.
However, this is my perfect moment, and I’ll savor the taste of his defeat the very second he realizes there’s no point playing this game with me.
Truly, Viktoria might as well have wrapped a bow around herself. It was all too perfect.
I have to admit, seeing her look so scared and confused about what was going on caught me by surprise, but I can only imagine she wasn’t anticipating being swept away quite so easily. Perhaps it was the sedative that really made her squirm.
Either way, the jet back home was quick and much quieter with her unconscious. At the very least, she couldn’t kick or fight her way out. Instead, I had her laid out across the seats and kept a close eye on her, just in case she woke up too soon or had some kind of bad reaction to the sedative.
During that time, I couldn’t help but find her disguise interesting, considering her family.
Even with her lying across the bed in the spare room, ever so slowly waking up, I can’t help but inspect her closely.
The loose braid keeping her dirty-blonde hair back with a few strands messily framing her face…
the brown cardigan and delicate cream blouse…
she really does look like a teacher, and maybe that’s worth the slightest bit of credit.
Of course, I’d never let Maxim know he did a decent job at hiding his sister away from the world.
Even so, it’s the last thing I was expecting from a Nikolaev.
And, of course, regardless of her being unconscious, there’s something about her face…her looks in general.
She seems delicate in a way…and I can only imagine her being neat and quiet. Like she’s too docile to cause any kind of trouble or stray from a path of innocence.
That can’t possibly be true. Not as Maxim’s sister.
Still…I can’t shake how that face of hers pulls me in—like an invitation to get to know the real her.
But, becoming sentimental is not what I have in mind. Not while the rest of my plan needs to continue, and I have more important things to worry about.
Viktoria is my ticket to forcing her brother into submission, regardless of how pretty her face may be.
As her eyes open and there’s light behind them again, I sit up, keeping my gaze completely on her, nearly pinning her in place.
That grogginess surrounds her, but as the sedative’s effects begin to ebb away and she takes in the sight of me, a new sense of recognition takes hold.
Her eyes widen, and she freezes like prey. With rigid limbs and unmistakable tension in her body, she attempts to shuffle back.
As she pulls in a breath, looking like she’s about to blow her top, I stand and take several small steps toward her.
“Don’t scream…” I murmur, keeping my tone firm and commanding as usual. “…it’s pointless here.”
Viktoria blinks back at me, visibly shocked, and apparently not giving up on that innocent act. Her voice comes out somewhat hoarse. “…who are you…what do you want with me?”
“The first part doesn’t matter…” I begin, looking her over briefly. “As for what I want with you…that will become apparent soon enough—and even more so to your brother.”
Despite her fear, she pinches her brows together. “Brother…I don’t have a brother—”
“Save it, Nikolaev.”
Startled, Viktoria blinks back at me, then tries again, “Nikolaev? What are you talking about?”
Growing more irritated with her feigned ignorance, I snap, “Drop the act. I know your brother has done everything in his power to hide you away, but I’m not playing these games anymore. You’ll help me bring him to his knees whether you like it or not.”
“But I don’t have a brother,” she insists. “You have the wrong person…I don’t know any Nikolaevs. I’m Victoria Evans…I’m a teacher.”
I narrow my eyes at her slightly, chuckling bitterly. “You’re good…I’ll give you that. Don’t you think you should be on a stage instead of a classroom?”
It’s her turn to look vaguely annoyed. “I’m not acting.”
“And I’m the pope…really, it’s senseless to keep this charade up,” I murmur, taking a step closer and leaning in to scrutinize her a little closer.
With a hand extended, I nudge her chin to make her look at me despite the flicker of defiance in her eyes.
“You’re in Lukov territory now…and I always get what I want. ”
There’s no missing the flash of fear that consumes her at once, but before she can argue, I reach for her arm and pull her to her feet.
“Get up…the next part of my plan awaits.”
Viktoria tries to weasel out of my grasp, but she can’t slip away quite so easily, and the lingering grogginess makes her a bit unsteady on her feet. Instead, she stumbles and has no choice but to follow along.
“I…I don’t know how else to say it,” she murmurs, voice shaking ever so slightly. “I’m not who you think I am.”
My grip tightens by a hair, not giving in despite her insistence.
It’s all an act, and it seems Maxim taught her well.
Knowing him, he probably brainwashed her into believing she was this innocent teacher.
“It’s a little too late for that now. After all the shit Maxim has pulled through the years, it’s about time he got it through his thick skull that Vegas is my turf.
He can either submit, flee, or find himself lost in the desert for all I care.
Either way, I have you now, and he’s going to pay for everything else. ”
Viktoria’s breath catches as I haul her downstairs and guide her towards the living room, where Mikhail and an officiant await.
The man seemed hesitant to get the job done initially, but with enough cash promised, he made sure to arrive as soon as possible.
Luckily, there’s no shortage of them in Vegas.
I feel as she digs her heels into the floor, trying to stop our momentum. She’s frantic as she takes in the scene.
“What’s going on—”
“Be quiet and cooperate,” I mutter, leaning in close to her ear. The way she freezes makes the faintest grin settle on my lips. “…the sooner you relax, the sooner this will be over.”
Wide-eyed, Viktoria settles into place, seemingly far too startled and dazed to cause much more of a scene.
With Mikhail as our witness and the officiant to make everything legitimate, we begin the process, and without missing a beat, she becomes mine. Legally binding her to me, she has no choice but to comply, and her brother can’t do anything about it.
It isn’t a move I ever expected myself to make, but for my family and our empire, anything goes. As the Pakhan, it’s my responsibility to shoulder whatever might drive our success—to make sacrifices and show my clear dedication to our cause.
I could easily wipe out Maxim and his men…but red flags aside, there’s something satisfying about orchestrating those games and knowing I have the upper hand. Knowing that I have a plan and a way to bring him to his knees.
Simply killing him wouldn’t force him to sit with the consequences of his actions. Instead, he’d get the easy way out, and that’s the last thing I want.
To be truly sated, I need him to suffer. To understand every reason why he never should’ve crossed my path to begin with.
And with Viktoria as my new bride, I can see exactly what has come to fruition.
Even if she’s unwilling, and even if I don’t know her in the slightest other than her affiliations, it’s still a win in my book. And given how everything has fallen into place, I have no problem claiming this victory already.
Once it’s all said and done, Mikhail escorts the officiant out, leaving me with my new wife.
She looks more like a shell-shocked veteran than a newlywed, but I can’t expect any different. Certainly not when it all happened so quickly.
Still, I let go of a satisfied breath and make my way over to the bar cart, grabbing a glass and my go-to whiskey, pouring it with a grin on my face.
“I know you’re no stranger to this world, but life is about to be quite different for you…and you have your brother to thank for that,” I say while moving across the room and bringing the glass to my lips. But I pause, lifting a brow at the sight of her.
She stands there with a terrified look in her eyes, chest nearly heaving as she pulls in deep yet seemingly unsatisfying breaths. Her face pales.
“What’s going on?” I ask her, taking a small step closer, before she holds a hand out to maintain space between us.
“I’m not…I don’t have a brother,” she manages to get out despite the pure fear brimming in her features. Her breaths quicken, and she looks like she’s on the brink of losing it. “…I grew up in foster homes…”
She is convincing…
I study her closely, trying to get a better read on her despite not believing her attempts to throw me off. Yet, something about her reaction feels too visceral. Too real. It has me tripping over my thoughts and taking pause.
“Even if that’s true, you could’ve gone through the foster system with Maxim—”
“I’m not a Nikolaev!” Viktoria snaps regardless of the way she struggles to pull herself together. “I don’t have a brother.”
That self-assured part of me is telling me not to believe her, but the ever-increasing frantic look in her eyes tells me otherwise, along with the sharp sounds escaping her each time she inhales.
She’s panicking.
“Take it easy,” I mumble, guiding her to sit back on the sofa behind her, regardless of her recoiling at my touch. “…Deep breaths.”
Viktoria sits, but pulls away, trying to steady herself as she puts her head in her hands and sucks in ragged breaths.
Standing there like an idiot, I look down at her, not liking the sinking feeling in my stomach.
There’s no way she isn’t Viktoria Nikolaev…not after all of this. Certainly not after everything seemed to be going so smoothly.
But something about her reaction is too sincere for me to ignore.
Maybe I was wrong…maybe…
“Tell me honestly,” I begin, expression stern and my tone leaving no room for disobedience. “Are you Viktoria Nikolaev? The Bratva princess Maxim stashed away? And if you lie to me, I will find out one way or another.”
She doesn’t miss a beat. “No…I’m not her. I’m a teacher, and I don’t know anyone named Maxim…if you don’t believe me, check my bag.”
Staring at her a moment longer, the sinking feeling only gets worse, and I hesitate before moving toward a side table where her purse sits. Of course, I keep myself as composed as possible, unwilling to completely relent, more so refusing to admit that I could be wrong.
There’s no way…
But as the possibility claws at the back of my mind, I feel a sense of urgency moving through me, and I reach for the purse before unzipping it and rifling through her belongings.
After sifting through the typical contents, I find her wallet and double-check, only to find one version of her ID. Not two.
Pulling the cards out, I look them over for any telltale signs that they could be fake. But as I look at her photo over and read her name over and over again, I can’t shake the staggering reality I’ve found myself in.
Victoria Evans.
A resident of California.
No sign of her being a Nikolaev anywhere—almost like Viktoria Nikolaev doesn’t even exist.
As the weight of that apparent truth sits heavily on my shoulders, I can only stare at her ID and question how it all went wrong.
How despite the easy win, it was apparently a loss in the end.
I acted too quickly and without thinking…I rushed into a plan to tie this woman to me. One I don’t know, and one who isn’t at all the woman I was expecting.
Looking back at her, my heart sinks, and I can tell she’s telling the truth.
It’s too late…she knows too much.