CHAPTER THREE
Anastasia
It’s been ten years since the events of that fateful day, and while other people, including my father, might have forgotten, I will always be haunted by how my brother died right in front of me. Every time I look at Fyodor, I’ll always remember the role he played in Alexei’s death.
I tried reasoning with my father once more, but he simply made it clear that he has no intention of changing his mind.
Finally, I ask him why he wants me to marry Fyodor, and he answers that there is no way that I will give birth to a bastard.
The only way out of this whole mess is for me to get married to the child’s father.
“Besides, I heard he’s a good man,” my father insists, and I can't help but wonder if there is something I’m missing.
When I planned to get my revenge on Fyodor Sokolov, the last thing I ever thought was that I’d get married to him; after all, Dylan and I have tentative plans for our future together, though we never really talk much about it.
In fact, before I discovered I was pregnant, I was planning to attend the California Institute of Arts to pursue a career in painting. My father was awfully supportive, and I try to bring that up with him.
“You can do that after you give birth,” he answers immediately.
Reasoning with my father is never a viable option, and I slowly accept the fact that this will be my life from now on.
Already, Ingrid, my stepmother, is on task to help me plan for my wedding, and since I have never gotten along with her, I do not bother to tell her the truth about how I feel.
The only person I can share my grievances with is Marina, my best friend.
Fyodor and I haven’t spoken much since that day, though he has been dropping by almost every day, most likely because my father forces him to. How I wish I could put this all behind me. If only I had a magic wand I could wave so that this whole thing had never happened.
Do I regret approaching Fyodor that day? Yes, to some extent. But maybe this will be the chance for me to get my revenge. However, I am not sure how I feel about destroying the life of the man who is the father of my child.
“You don't seem excited,” Marina comments.
“Why would I be? Do you know what this means for me and my future?”
She drops the napkin in her hand before closing the pizza box. Strangely, I’ve been craving pizza a lot these days, and thanks to Marina, I get my fill of it.
“Are you talking about Dylan?”
“No, I don’t have any reason to think about him anymore.” I pick up my plate with the slice of pizza.
I jeopardized our future together, and I can imagine how heartbroken he’ll be now that he must have heard the news.
We’d been dating for three years, and when I spoke to him about my plans for revenge, Dylan had told me that going after a member of the Bratva would never end well.
Of course, I easily dismissed his concerns, since I knew quite well how the organization works.
If only I had listened to him back then.
But my mind was pretty much made up, and nothing could have changed it. And now, I have destroyed everything we once shared.
“And we wouldn’t have made it that far anyway,” I suddenly say. “My father would never approve of him.”
That isn’t entirely true, but that is my current coping mechanism. Believing that my father would have opposed our marriage makes this feel a little less hurtful.
“I thought you really loved him?” Marina questions.
Love might be kind of overstretched. Sure, I enjoyed spending time with Dylan, and the sex was not bad. However, compared to the one night with Fyodor, it feels like we never really had a spark between us.
That is the one thing I still can't wrap my head around.
Why is it that the man I hate the most gave me the most pleasurable night of my life?
I blame it on the alcohol, but the honest truth is that Fyodor taught me the art of lovemaking, and I surrendered my entire body to him, unable to resist his touch.
That’s one night I’ll never forget for the rest of my life.
I wonder if I will ever get the chance to experience something as beautiful as that again.
“Let's just talk about something different.” I shake my head, wanting to put that memory away. “I don't want to think about this whole fiasco.”
Almost immediately, Marina switches the conversation to our other group of friends.
Jeniffer and Ruth are currently planning to go backpacking in Europe. That is something I will never get the chance to do because my father would shoot down the idea even before I put it up.
Growing up as the daughter of Matteo Federov has denied me a lot of things, and sometimes, I can't help but imagine what my life would be like if I had not been born to the Federov family.
How would my life have turned out if I were the daughter of an ordinary man?
Maybe then I wouldn't have to keep this pregnancy or get married to a man I abhor with every fiber of my being.
My father is the type of man who cares about his reputation, and in his line of work, your reputation is your life. This is why, to some extent, I understand why he's going this far, but it hurts that my father cares more about his reputation than my happiness.
Does he not know what kind of man Fyodor Sokolov is?
I had managed to stumble upon the fact that he was responsible for my brother’s death, and if I can find that on my own, there’s no way my father isn’t aware of that as well.
But maybe he really doesn’t know!
But then, how do I break it to him that the man he wants his daughter to marry is the same man who killed his son?
As if to make things more complicated, there’s a knock on the door.
“Come in,” I answer without a thought, and Fyodor steps in.
I hear Marina gasp softly, and I know she has most likely been swept up by Fyodor's handsomeness. In all honesty, Fyodor is a really handsome man; he’s dashing with confidence and a dangerous aura. But he's also a killer—a man who has brought much pain to many people.
“What are you doing here?” I ask harshly.
“Just wanted to check up on you,” he answers as he looks from me to Marina, then back at me. “Your father mentioned something about you being unable to sleep well last night.”
I try not to roll my eyes as I realize the only person who could have told him that is none other than Oksana, who my father is still determined to keep in his employ. She’s always blathering about everything in my personal life.
“Besides, I was thinking that maybe you'd like to go out. You being cooped up all day is not good for you,” Fyodor says as he rubs the base of his neck.
There are times when I get the feeling that he isn’t exactly sure what to do with me, and if it weren’t for the fact that I know that he’s an experienced lover, I would have said that all this is new to him.
“So, now you suddenly care about my well-being?” I fire at him. My voice climbs a few decibels.
“No, I don’t mean it like that,” Fyodor begins defensively. “I just read somewhere—"
“I don’t care what you read. Just, please, leave me alone.”
His expression changes, and from Marina’s frown at me, I know that I was rude. However, this is Fyodor, and he deserves more than me treating him like dirt.
“I understand,” he says slowly as he takes a step backwards, heading toward the door.
Marina will never let me hear the end of my rudeness, but she doesn’t really know why I am treating Fyodor this way, and the truth is that I can’t share it with her.
“It's nice to meet you.” Fyodor nods briefly in Marina’s direction.
I can feel the weight of her gaze on me, but there is no way I am introducing her to him. Of course, knowing Marina, she will never let me hear the end of that, either, once he leaves.
“Can I come around tomorrow if that's fine by you?” he asks.
“I’ll think about it, but for now, I’d like to be left alone.”
He leaves, and the moment he closes the door, Marina slaps me on the shoulder.
“Why the hell did you do that? The man was trying to care for you, and you treated him like he had the plague.”
“Trust me, you don’t know the truth about him, Marina,” I assure her as I sit down on the sofa.
She looks at me with confusion, and I wish that I could tell her that he is responsible for Alexei’s death, but that is my secret to keep. The last thing I want to do is burden Marina with that information.
“You know it is not his fault, right? You both played a role in getting where you are today. Hell, according to you, you seduced him and not the other way around.”
She’s really protective of him, and if I didn’t know better, I would think that she has fallen for him.
“Yes, I know what I did. The fact that I seduced him doesn’t mean I have to like him, though,” I point out to Marina, who isn’t ready to give up on her argument.
“He isn’t the one who wants to get married. We both know the only reason why he is getting married to you is because your father is forcing his hand.”
She’s starting to get on my nerves, and I remind her that I have lived with my father all my life, and I know how he can be, so she doesn’t have to preach to me about how Fyodor is the victim in this situation.
“Fine, but you should try and see things from his side. He went from a man who has his whole life together to suddenly getting engaged to a stranger and expecting a child.”
“Twins,” I break the news to her.
“What? You’re having twins?” Marina gasps as my words slowly sink in. “This is great! Does he know?”
That’s news I haven’t shared with him yet, and I begged my father to let me break it to him. Sometimes, thinking about my current situation gets overwhelming, and for now, I don’t want to think about him or the babies or the fact that I am getting married in a couple weeks.
My father already decided on the wedding day without talking about it with me, but then again, it’s not like my opinion matters. He thinks summer is the best time for a wedding, and he wants a private gathering with family, a few close friends, and people he trusts.
But I know that my father isn’t exactly excited about this marriage, and all he wants to do is marry me off to hide his shame.
Just like he has been hiding me for the past couple years.
Does my father hate me? I don't know. It is possible that he’s ashamed of the fact that I am a woman, alive, while his beloved son was killed.
Unlike his colleagues, he has no one to take over the family business from him when he passes.
I collapse into bed, thinking about everything.
Why did things have to turn out this way?
If only I had gotten something solid that night, at least then I might have been able to blackmail Fyodor.
Maybe then this marriage wouldn’t even have to happen.
But now, I am left with no choice but to get married to the man who killed my brother.
Maybe this isn't all bad.
Getting married to him means getting access to everything he does.
What better chance to get dirt on Fyodor than when I am living with him?
By being his wife, I’ll be able to gather ammunition while getting the front-row seat to watch him suffer and live in fear, just like I have for the past ten years.
Yes, all I have to do is wait. The right time will come, and I will get my revenge. I can easily picture Fyodor’s face when he realizes that the woman he married is the one behind his destruction.