9. Chapter Nine
CHAPTER NINE
V iktor
Upon returning home, I contemplated taking a quick dip in the lake. However, my respite was short-lived as Roger approached me the moment I parked the car.
“Sir, your father wishes to see you in his office,” he informed me.
I nodded and proceeded in that direction.
“You went out alone?” he queried. “No men?”
“I did.”
“Not safe–”
“I can take care of myself,” I assured him. “I managed without security for a long time.”
“That was before you became the heir apparent. Now you’re a target.”
“No, Alexie is a target. I am the path to peace.”
Upon entering my father’s office, I found my father engaged in a jovial conversation with an unidentified woman. The sound of several voices filled the air with soft Italian cadences. The woman surrounded by her bodyguards stood with her back to me, her golden hair flowing down her back; artificially dyed to mimic my own almost white hair.
My distinctive appearance had long been a source of contention among the men. I was fairer than Alexie. I bore a striking resemblance to my mother in terms of eyes and bone structure, whereas Alexie favored our father.
“Ah, look who’s here,” my father exclaimed cheerfully.
I maintained my composure, revealing nothing of my internal bewilderment. My mask remained firmly in place, my emotions securely hidden.
The woman turned to face me, and my eyes widened in surprise.
“Viktor, this is Isabella,” my father announced, and I extended my hand to shake hers, before he dropped the bombshell. “Your betrothed.”
I concealed any reaction with expertise, as I had years of training doing it. Isabella, this diminutive woman, was everything I never wanted in a wife, if I were to bother having one. She was a mirror image of my mother, with her eyebrows and hair dyed to imitate my own. Her haunting ice-blue eyes blurred in my mind’s eye with the milky blues from long ago.
“The Don and I have finally had a conversation,” my father continued, oblivious to the storm brewing within me. “Isabella is here with her bodyguards to spend time with you. They have trained her to become the perfect Pakhan’s wife.”
“I’m sorry we couldn’t stay in your home as you’ve asked,” Isabella interjected, her voice sounding strangely familiar. She glanced at me, as if sensing my thoughts.
I took a step back, relieved that she wouldn’t be living on the property.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she added.
Her accent was eerily similar to a voice that haunted both my dreams and waking thoughts. I nodded and said no more, fearing that opening my mouth might invite a bullet to my skull. Because I was going to have to dissolve this arrangement.
“Viktor has always been a man of few words,” my father chuckled. “A wise trait, knowing when to speak and when to observe.”
I needed a plan.
I needed an escape.
Thankfully, an interruption arrived via a knock on the door, providing a glimmer of hope. “Enter,” my father commanded.
Roger entered the room, and awaited the signal that would grant him permission to speak. “Sir, Viktor is needed. There’s been some trouble,” he reported.
I didn’t bother excusing myself for this urgent matter. Just politely tipped my head and strode out.
As soon as I left the office, I quickened my pace until I was practically running, as if pursued by the hounds of hell. “Where am I needed?” I inquired, my curiosity piqued.
Roger shrugged. “Nowhere. I just thought you needed a moment to yourself. Take a swim and clear your head. I know you have received some shocking news.”
I glared at Roger, resenting how well he knew me. He was practically a father figure, having raised me more than anyone else. Although he had imparted essential survival skills, my father had handled the bulk of my discipline.
Once outside, I made my way to the lake and stripped down completely, swimming vigorously, my body aching from the exertion. My foot brushed against the lake’s bottom, and I realized I had swum to the other side. Rather than heading back immediately, I pulled myself onto the banks and lay down, uncaring of who might see me, or that I might freeze to death.
That swim worked wonders to settle my spirit. If I were to marry a woman and father a child, I would do it on my own terms. I would choose the woman, and she would be the polar opposite of what my father desired in every way.
I returned to the other side of the lake, where my clothes lay, and found my would-be fiancée waiting for me. Suppressing my internal rage, I adjusted my features. After a cold swim, I was always vulnerable. This was my sanctuary, and she was intruding on it.
“Your father wants you to return after you’ve finished your business,” she informed me. “I am apparently to occupy myself for this meeting. I had not been invited to attend.”
I offered no response. I merely dressed.
“We’re to be married in a few months,” she added. “Don’t you think we should get to know each other?”
I sensed ulterior motives beneath her words, but I couldn’t be bothered to care. I walked past her, refusing to acknowledge her presence. If I thought I could get away with it, I would simply slit her throat and eliminate the possibility of future betrayal. She reeked of it. And I didn’t have time to bother with it.
Sadly, I could not end her yet. I had to play politics instead.
I reached into my pocket and fingered the panties. I had an obsession starting that required my focus. I would not waste my limited free time on entertaining a woman I wanted nothing to do with.
“It took you long enough,” my father grumbled once I arrived back at his office where he and Roger waited.
I sat down, gesturing for a servant to pour me a drink, and the moment she finished, she hurried out of the room. Bratva business wasn’t for the ears of the help, and the punishment for eavesdropping was swift and deadly. It made the help quick.
“Now that we’re all here, the Italians have requested an audience,” my father declared. “They’ll be attending the next significant event, and we’ll sit down with them to ease tensions. Once everyone sees our alliance is stronger than ever, there should be fewer territorial disputes.”
How could we smooth anything over when Don Ricci was hell-bent on revenge? He had murdered his wife, who was carrying a Russian child, and no arranged marriage would rectify that offense anytime soon. Regardless of my father’s claims, when the moment presented itself, the Don would toss aside our alliance to assassinate my brother.
Presently, the Italians knew that playing nice would get them closer to that ultimate goal of eliminating Alexie, and probably my father and myself as well. My father was too close to the Don to see it, but it was clear as day to me what their plan was. They wanted to encroach.
“Sir, if I may,” Roger interjected, “we should offer a stronger apology to the Italians, one with feminine blood.”
“A Russian virgin?” My father inquired, leaning forward. “Who do we have who could meet this requirement? It could not be just any woman.”
“Perhaps the blood of a Russian female who may need some… taming,” Roger suggested cryptically. “We do have one in the wings.”
“That might work.” Father contemplated for a moment before he shook his head, as if deciding against it. “No. That needs to be a last resort. I’ll review the family lines to identify suitable candidates. If they aren’t already at the orphanage, it might be a good time to move some girls there,” my father said. “Get them ready.”
He was referring to a property which served as neutral territory, for all organizations to send their girls to be groomed to become obedient wives.
“Sir, will this girl marry the Don?” Roger inquired.
My father shook his head. “No, the Don would most likely use her as a mistress. Enough on this. What’s next on the agenda?”
“The party to announce Viktor’s succession is scheduled. We’ve hired and vetted the catering company.”
“Viktor,” my father addressed. “Ensure that nothing goes wrong at this party. Many eyes will be on you, scrutinizing the type of leader you’ll become. You cannot afford to fail.”
I nodded in agreement, concealing my growing desire to tear my father apart. At some point, we would have to address the betrothment.
As if he had read my mind, my father then added this tidbit.
“Perhaps we should announce the marriage alliance as well.”
“No,” I said quickly. At the lifting brow, I expounded. “My fiancée might have plans set.”
My father nodded. “True. Women are frivolous creatures. Fine. Let her plan that announcement.”
The rest of the meeting was a blur, as my plan continued to take shape. My little milyy might just be the key to solving all my problems. If I could impregnate her, I could use that as an excuse to call the wedding off. Regardless of training, my would-be fiancée did not seem like the type of woman that would passively accept the pregnant sidepiece lingering around.