Chapter 7
Chapter
Seven
Victor
My brother paces restlessly, cracking his tattooed knuckles as he alternates between glaring out the window and rushing to the door like he's off for a confrontation. "This was a fucking terrible idea," Alexei finally says, pointing a finger at me.
I barely hold in my sigh, standing from the bed in the DeMarco guest suite that was assigned to me.
This mansion the DeMarcos have been hiding in all these years is certainly something.
Now that I'm finally inside, I see they are not wanting for space.
My brother and I have been given separate suites and not one of our men has to bunk up.
Not to mention all the finest trimmings and furnishings.
It's luxe, ostentatious and refined. It's old mafia money.
Alexei continues, as if he hasn't made his position on my engagement clear already. "Rolling right into enemy territory. It's insane, brother. Insane. You've finally lost your mind."
I drink my vodka straight from the bottle, wiping at my beard. "A document like that shows up out of nowhere you don't just ignore it." The same spiel I've given him every single time he's overreacted about this.
"You dense motherfucker," Alexei growls, snarling at me.
Alexei is, and always has been, perpetually agitated. Where I'm calm no matter the stressors, Alexei cannot keep his cool for even a moment. In a way, he's an open book. Every shift of his eyes, every flare of his nostril, is easy to read.
It's why he's not the one in charge.
"Why the fuck would they want to give us their precious daughter? Peace cannot be worth that," he spits, before continuing his disconcerting pacing.
"Alexei, for the love of God, calm down. They're being hospitable, and they're just as confused as we are about where this came from."
"And that's a good sign?" Alexei pauses his pacing to challenge me.
I shake my head at him, choosing to ignore his immature outburst as I head to the window and pull the curtains wider. Alexei is inches from my face when I turn around, his unsettled eyes pinning me to the spot. "You actually want to marry that girl?"
I see now he's going to pretend she isn't exquisite. It's easier for him to compartmentalize that way.
I slide past him. "She's said yes. I'd be a fool not to."
"You'd be a fool to fucking do it!"
Icy rage tickles over my skin, the kind that only my brother can draw out of me. I grind my teeth and turn a deadly look on him. "I'm done warning you, brother." A low growl slips into my voice. "I won't say this again. It's decided. It's done. Shut up about it."
Alexei folds his arms and runs his tongue over his teeth, giving me that testing look he's known for. Unnameable emotions cross over his face before he huffs, and drops his sour attitude, letting me know I've won. "I'll be so fucking pissed at you if this gets us killed," he says.
My mood instantly lifts. "I know you will."
I swig the last of the vodka and slam the bottle down on the dresser. Alexei is caught at the window again, staring down into the gardens with a scowl. Curious this time, I step up to his side.
Ah.
The girl is in the garden. She's sitting on a bench in the middle of the flowers, picking at the edge of her sex-on-legs white dress. One of their men, Prince I believe, is standing stoically nearby, making me wonder if they've given the girl a bodyguard.
"Dimitri had been working on a peace deal for years, Alexei. This isn't unexpected."
My reckless, idiotic, brother's hateful stare glues to the girl. "We have peace. We already have a treaty. There's nothing more we need," he whispers. His whispers, though, are always threats.
I throw him a condescending look, still in disbelief that after all these years by my side, he still doesn't get it. "There's always more, brother."
"I'm never going to like it."
"Then just watch my back."
He turns to me, folding his arms and frowning as he says, like it's very obvious and needn't be said, "Always."
I clap him once on the shoulder. "Good. Now, excuse me. I've got a girl to woo."
I throw him a wink before leaving to chase down Sage DeMarco. We may have no idea why Dimitri DeMarco would've wanted me to marry his daughter, but I won't waste a good opportunity. More status, more power, and a beautiful girl to boot. Win-win-win.
The Prince boy stiffens before he sees me approaching, giving me pause as I file away a note that his instincts are sharper than they seem.
Sage is still sitting in the garden, with the sun shining on her dark hair, but now one of the other men has joined her. Freddie Fallon, another higher up in the DeMarco empire.
I bet the innocent girl has no fucking idea what he's capable of. I'll give it to him that he comes across as charming and lax. But he isn't. He's their number one hitter, and there isn't a room that Freddie Fallon leaves without painting it red.
He's an absolute sociopath. But, like everyone in this DeMarco mansion, he's an absolute sociopath with heart eyes for this one girl.
My brother is probably right. Deep down I know that. These people willing to give away their precious daughter? Definitely strange. Yes, they have no choice. The legalities are set in motion. The surprise is that they haven't started all-out war to prevent it.
"Shouldn't you be settling in?" The Prince boy says, his shoulders tightening as he turns to block my access to Sage, who has yet to spot us.
"I brought one bag, Prince. It ain't hard to settle with that," I say, folding my arms as I paste a smile on my face and square my shoulders at the fucker.
If we're in for a showdown in the middle of a rose garden while the sun shines and birds chirp overhead, then so be it. I love a little juxtaposition.
Prince's jaw grinds as he narrows his eyes at me. We stare each other down for a beat longer before it becomes obvious he can't think of a reason to limit my access to the girl.
"Glad we cleared that up," I say, keeping the smile on my face. "Excellent job on the tough guy stance though, bodyguard. Bet you come highly recommended." I look back long enough to catch him bare his teeth at me.
I head up the cobblestone garden path with my hands in my pockets, finding the girl where she sits on a red bench between the roses and hedges.
Fallon is the first to spot me, his soft heart eyes turning murderous. Ultimately, that's what tips the girl off. She flips her head, dark hair twirling as she spins to face me. Her eyes widen before she turns back to Freddie and tugs on his sleeve to get his attention.
"Freddie, give me a minute?"
Fallon isn't so trusting. He runs his tongue over his teeth, an evil spark in his eyes, and goes to speak. But the Prince boy appears out of fucking nowhere. "Don't worry, Freddie, I'll be watching them."
I don't miss that that's said for my benefit, not hers.
Fallon leaves. But not before he gives me a cruel smirk, like he's trying to tell me I'm lucky to have missed his wrath. Watching to make sure he's gone and will no longer be a bother to me, I turn and face the Prince boy. "You can watch from over there, bodyguard."
He's not going to listen to me, either. Unsurprising. I have adopted the bulldozer approach after all. That rarely goes down well.
Sage gives him a nod which sends him reluctantly walking out of earshot, but not out of sight. Finally, it's just me and the girl alone.
"May I?" I ask, gesturing to the empty seat beside her.
"Please," she replies, scooting up the bench to allow room for me.
I hike my suit pants up at the calves to get into a comfortable sitting position and then sit with my arms rested on my thighs.
"Victor Rushkoff." I hold out my hand for her to shake.
The girl doesn't blink twice, hesitate, or eye me for a second before she grabs my hand in a death grip and squeezes as she shakes it. "Sage DeMarco."
Jesus, she's got tiny hands, but they're choking the fucking life out of me.
Most grown men shit their pants when I even look at them, but considering her father is Dimitri DeMarco, it shouldn't be impressive that she doesn't cower when confronted with one of the most dangerous men on the continent.
Still, it is. Even when between me and her father we've killed more men than we've ever let live.
I pull back with a winced smile.
"You know it's fucking weird to propose before you've properly introduced yourself, right?" She folds her arms.
"Well, I wouldn't know." I lean back on the bench, stretching out my arms. Her eyes watch my biceps. I smirk. "I've never done it before. In fact, I've never had a document arranging me a marriage before."
She lifts her chin but turns her eyes away. "Well, that makes two of us."
"The proposal was a formality. I apologize if it bothered you. It had to be done."
Her eyes soften, and she nods her head once.
"And since we didn't get much of an introduction before, I thought I'd introduce myself privately."
She tilts her head to give me an amused look. She truly is a gorgeous woman. Bright, big, green eyes. Lusciously full lips that are painted nude to blend into her tan skin. Long legs crossed and peeking out of that delicate, lacy sundress. "It's nice to meet you, Victor."
I search her eyes and find nothing. I really can't tell what she's thinking. Though from her childlike mannerisms and behavior, mafia politics may be a little over her head.
"Well, I'll cut to the chase," I say. "Since we have a slew of events before our inevitable marriage-"
"As was directed in the document, I'm aware," she says with a roll of her eyes. I school my features before my brows can jump to my head. Surely Anton didn't show her the document?
"Right... well, I thought we could take the time to get to know each other."
Sage nods slowly, like she's waiting for the other shoe to drop. Her mouth opens on a false start before her brows crease. "You want to woo me?"
A genuine smile spreads across my face. So wide that I can feel it pressing against my eyes. I rub my hand along my beard in a nervous tell. "Well, I suppose when you put it like that."
She uncrosses her legs and turns to face me, waving her arms wildly at me with a confused little frown on her face. "You actually want to marry me? Like put me up in your house and treat me like a wife? What? No bedroom locked in a tower already prepared for me at your place?"
I choke out a burst of laughter that brings a smile to her face. From the corner of my eye, I see the Prince boy glaring at us. She smiles at me again. Those eyes just as beautiful and hard as gemstones.
"No tower, I promise," I say. "I want a wife. I want you."
"Why? You don't even know me."
I take a deep breath and try not to smile. She's brash. Straightforward. It's interesting.
"Despite our obvious differences and tenuous relationship, your father was a good man," I reluctantly admit.
"If there was one thing Dimitri DeMarco was known for, it was loving you.
You were the most important thing in the world to him.
So, if he really wrote that document, I have to assume he did so for something more than peace or power. "
Her face, once again, gives me nothing of her thoughts.
"I'd like to get to know you, and find out what that something more is," I say.
"Noted," she says, turning to wipe a stray tear from her eye, but frowning like she wishes it weren't there. "And accepted."
"Good," I say as I stand. "I hope we can speak again soon."
I smile as I walk away.
Fucking nailed it.