33. Ruslan
33
RUSLAN
"How are you feeling, zarechka ?" I whisper in Aurora's ear as we navigate through the reception crowd.
"Like everyone's staring at us," she murmurs back, her lips barely moving.
I squeeze her hand reassuringly. "They are. You're the most beautiful woman in the room."
A flush rises to her cheeks. "Flatterer."
"It's only flattery if it isn't true."
Across the room, I spot Alexei Voronin approaching with his bride Eleonora in tow. Young enough to be his daughter, she trails two steps behind him like a frightened shadow, her eyes fixed on the floor.
I can't help but notice she's wearing long sleeves and a high collar that covers her neck in spite of the warmth.
My jaw tightens reflexively.
Aurora notices my change in demeanor and when she looks over, I feel her hand tightening in mine.
"Ruslan Vitalyevich!" Alexei's voice booms as he reaches us. "I believe congratulations are in order!"
He raises his hand to clasp my shoulder, and I feel Aurora's hand squeeze mine again at the way Eleonora flinches when Alexei's hand moves.
Alexei's gaze drifts from my face to Aurora's, and his eyes slowly trails down her neck to her collarbone, then lower still as he mentally undresses her.
"A stunning bride," he says, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. "And such a modest dress too. You've done well, Ruslan Vitalyevich. You've done very well."
My molars grind together. Every muscle in my body tenses with the desire to tear his throat out. I could do it right here. One quick motion across his jugular. The knife in my ankle holster would make quick work of him.
"Thank you," I manage instead, my voice controlled despite the rage burning through me. I place my hand at the small of Aurora's back, a silent promise of protection.
Alexei leans forward, breath reeking of vodka, and takes Aurora's free hand. Then, he presses his lips to the back of her hand in a kiss that lingers for far too long.
I imagine the look of blood soaking the front of his shirt.
"Lovely," he says as he releases her hand reluctantly. "Eleonora and I would be honored if you visit us at our home someday. I had a lovely new pool installed for her. Perhaps with your encouragement, she'll actually choose to take a dip in it."
To her credit, Aurora rises to meet the challenge. "Perhaps I will."
She gives Alexei a polite nod before stepping toward Eleonora with open arms and holds her in a full embrace. Shock flits across Eleonora's eyes at the decidedly open gesture, and for a moment, she doesn't know how to respond.
Then, her hands slowly rise, and she hugs Aurora back.
"I find swimming more enjoyable when the company is refreshing," Aurora says when they part. Her gaze flicks meaningfully to Alexei before returning to his wife. "Perhaps we can arrange an afternoon just for the two of us? I'd love to learn more about you without..." she pauses delicately, "distractions."
Alexei's face darkens as he realizes she's politely declined his presence while simultaneously offering his wife an escape.
Aurora continues, her voice light but her words precise as a surgeon's scalpel. "After all, it's not every day I meet a man who needs a pool just to get his wife wet."
For a fleeting moment, I glimpse something on Eleonora's face that I've never expected to see before: amusement. It's like watching a captive bird remember that it once had wings.
But just as quickly, the light in her eyes extinguishes when Alexei's meaty hand circles the back of her neck. It's not quite a grip, but a clear reminder that he holds her leash.
"Come. There are other guests to greet," Alexei says, his voice strained as he steers her away. His knuckles whiten.
I watch them retreat through the crowd. The way he parades her before the other men like a prized thoroughbred makes my stomach turn.
Nineteen years away from this world weren’t enough to forget these sights.
Aurora leans close, her lips nearly brushing my ear. "That man is a monster."
"One of many in this room," I murmur, steering her toward a quieter corner where we can speak without being overheard. "You did well."
"I shouldn't have said that about the pool." Her voice carries a thread of worry. "But I couldn't help myself."
I take her hands in mine, running my thumb over Liliya's ring on her finger. "Those men expect wives to be silent ornaments. You looked him in the eye and cut him down without raising your voice or making a scene."
"I made an enemy. I'm afraid he's going to hurt her."
"He will. But he was going to do that whether you insulted him or not. You offered Eleonora something she hasn't had in years. A reminder that she's a person."
"I hadn't realized just what you were saving your nieces from until today." she asks softly. "The awful world that you're protecting them from."
"Yes." The word comes out rough as sandpaper. "If not for you, Mikayla would be promised to someone just like him within the month. Stella and Sofia would follow as soon as they're old enough."
Aurora's eyes meet mine, fierce and bright. "I'm glad I'm here."
I bring her hand to my lips, kissing her palm rather than the back of her hand.
"So am I, zarechka ." I touch her chin gently. "So am I."
I guide Aurora to our seats at the center table, my hand pressed firmly against the small of her back.
Around us, the other pakhans settle into their places. The air feels charged. Everyone waiting to see how this unexpected union will reshape the power dynamics they've grown comfortable with.
The room quiets as Gregor Belov rises from his seat, champagne glass in hand. His pale blue eyes sweep across the gathering, commanding attention without saying a word. Even at seventy, he carries himself with the presence of a czar.
"Today," he begins, his voice carrying to every corner of the room, "we celebrate not just a union between man and woman, but the return of a son to his rightful place."
Murmurs ripple across the tables. Everyone knows the story of my exile.
"Ruslan Vitalyevich has proven himself worthy of leading the Dragunov bratva into a prosperous future." Gregor raises his glass higher. "A future that many of us feared was lost with the tragic deaths of his brother Lev and his nephew Mikhail."
He pauses, his gaze landing on me with uncomfortable precision.
"But prosperity requires stability, and stability requires alliances. Strong alliances." His eyes narrow meaningfully. "Alliances forged not merely through business arrangements, but through the most sacred bonds of marriage, a joining of families."
The room falls silent. His meaning is clear to anyone familiar with bratva politics. I see several old men chuckling silently to themselves, and several more turning their hungry eyes around the room, no doubt looking for Mikayla or her sisters.
You sick fucks.
Aurora leans close, her lips nearly brushing my ear. "Are the girls safe?" she whispers, her voice trembling slightly.
I place my hand over hers beneath the table, feeling her pulse racing beneath my fingertips.
"They're in a separate wing," I whisper back. "Artyom has them under guard with my most loyal men. No one will come near them. I promise."
The tension in her shoulders eases slightly, though her eyes remain vigilant. Aurora understands the game being played, even as she's learning the rules.
Gregor continues his toast, speaking of legacies and bloodlines with the practiced ease of someone who has been arranging marriages like chess pieces for decades.
Gregor raises his glass higher, his voice carrying throughout the hall. "To Ruslan and Aurora Dragunov! May your union bring strength to your family and stability to all of us. Let no one dare challenge what God has joined today."
The guests echo his toast, though I catch several cold stares. They're calculating what my marriage to an outsider means for their own ambitions.
Let them wonder.
The orchestra begins playing the traditional waltz that signals the first dance. I rise from my seat and extend my hand to Aurora, who takes it with practiced grace.
"Ready to show these vultures how it's done?" I murmur as I lead her to the center of the floor.
Her smile is radiant but I feel the tremor in her fingers. "As ready as I'll ever be."
I place my hand at her waist, drawing her closer than custom dictates. "Just follow my lead. Remember, we just have to look convincing."
She fits against me perfectly as we begin to move, her body responding to my guidance as naturally as breathing. The hem of her wedding dress whispers across the floor as we turn.
"If I didn't know better, I'd say you're enjoying this charade," she whispers, her eyes locked on mine.
"Who says it's a charade?" I guide her through a sweeping turn, using the movement to scan the room.
The music swells, and I lift her in a graceful arc that draws appreciative murmurs from our audience. When she returns to my arms, her eyes are darker, heated.
"They're all watching us," she breathes.
"Let them watch. They're just jealous that they're not the ones with you in their arms."
"Ruslan Dragunov." Her fingers tighten on my shoulder. "Are you flirting with your wife?"
I pull her closer, feeling the warmth of her body against mine. "Is that a crime, zarechka ?"
"In this room? Probably the most innocent one being committed."
I laugh, surprised by her sharp wit even now. "You're learning quickly."
"I'm observant." Her eyes flicker briefly to where Alexei is watching us, his hand still gripping the back of Eleonora's neck. "I see how these men look at their wives. Like possessions."
"And how do I look at you?"
Aurora tilts her head, studying my face with an intensity that makes my pulse quicken. "Like you want to devour me."
"That's because I do." I lower my voice so only she can hear. "The second we're alone, I plan to peel that dress off you with my teeth."
She stumbles slightly in our dance, and I catch her smoothly, using the opportunity to press my hand more firmly against the small of her back.
"Don't make promises you can't keep," she whispers, her voice catching.
"Have I ever lied to you?"
"No." Her eyes soften. "That's the terrifying part."
"Are you terrified of me, Aurora?"
"No." She shakes her head, her golden hair catching the light. "I'm terrified of how you make me feel. Like I'm not running anymore. Like I could..."
She trails off. Her lips part slightly as she looks up at me.
"Like I could be someone real."
The music begins to fade, and I know our moment of privacy is nearly over. Other couples will join us on the dance floor soon.
"You are real, Aurora, I tell her, my thumb brushing across her cheekbone. "You're more real with me than anyone has ever been. Including myself."
The heat in her eyes makes me want to dismiss every guest immediately, consequences be damned.
"Do you think anyone would notice if we disappeared?" she asks, her words mirroring my thoughts.
"Everyone would notice." I draw her hand to my lips, pressing a kiss to her palm. "And I don't give a fuck."
I hold Aurora close, my heart thundering against my ribs as the orchestra finishes our first dance. The melody fades, and I'm about to lead her from the floor when the double doors at the entrance crash open.
Tamara strides in, her blonde hair swept in a tight bun atop of her head and diamonds glittering at her throat. Behind her stand six men with hard faces and bulges beneath their jackets.
The music doesn't dare to resume. Conversations die. Glasses freeze halfway to lips.
I move in front of Aurora, angling my body instinctively to shield her.
"Where are my daughters, Ruslan?" Tamara's voice rings through the stunned silence. "You have no right to take them from me!"
My jaw tightens. "They're safe. That's more than I can say for anyone in your care."
Her lips twist into a cruel smile. "They're my flesh and blood. Mine to raise. Mine to protect."
"Is that what you call it? Protection?" I take a step forward, keeping Aurora behind me. "You were ready to sell them to the highest bidder!"
Tamara's face contorts with rage. "How dare you! Everything I do is for them! For their future!"
"Their future?" I laugh bitterly. "Being married off to men old enough to be their grandfathers? That's the future you want for Mikayla? For Stella? For Sofia?"
A ripple runs through the crowd. Some of the older pakhans shift uncomfortably in their seats.
Tamara steps forward, hand raised to slap me, but freezes as Gregor Belov rises from his seat.
"Enough, Tamara Denisovna." His voice is calm, but it cuts through the tension like a blade. "You dishonor yourself and your family with this display. The girls will remain with their pakhan."
"Pakhan?" she spits. "He's not even in line for succession! Vitaly made that clear."
"And I have reversed Vitaly's decision," Gregor replies calmly. "You stand here as an unwelcome guest. Leave now, before you force me to have you removed."
Tamara's eyes dart around the room, measuring the faces of the assembled pakhans. Finding no allies, her shoulders sag minutely.
"Fine." She backs toward the door, but stops halfway. "Before I go, don't you all want to know what Ruslan has actually married? Who she really is?"
Aurora's fingers dig into my arm.
"I know exactly who she is," I say, voice deadly quiet. "She's Aurora Dragunov, my wife."
"Aurora Dragunov! Ha!" Tamara laughs, the sound high and brittle. "Has she fooled you all so completely?"
She glares towards me, but I know where her fury is focused.
"Her name will never be Aurora Dragunov," she seethes. "Because her name is Jamie Fields."