Chapter Five #2
“Um…no,” Gina answered.
“We weren’t invited,” Kiara added.
“You won’t be missing much anyway,” I said, a sarcastic chuckle leaving my lips.
Ksenia opened her mouth to say something when the doorknob turned and the door opened, revealing Mr. Bald again.
Why the fuck can’t he knock?
It felt demeaning that he never felt the need to knock because I was just a prisoner.
“Time for the bride to come down,” he announced, still not fully entering the room.
Well, I’m about to be his boss’s wife, too.
I stood from the couch and, instead of turning towards the open door, went in the opposite direction, towards the bathroom. With my back to him, I casually explained to Ksenia, who was standing by the bed, “I’ll just wash my hands.”
“Okay,” she silently answered.
Surprisingly, he didn’t utter a word.
Not having anything to do in the bathroom, I had a better look at my face and upper body in the mirror above the sink. The sweetheart neckline was low enough for the soft lace above it to hint at a bit of cleavage, but the mesh sleeves and the full A-line were the picture of modest elegance.
I let out a huff of air, trying to garner strength from the deepest parts of me.
“I can’t remain in this; I’ll get out,” I said to myself.
Time to marry a mob boss.
*************
I remembered in paranormal novels where vampires turned their humanity off and on. Well, I channeled those same vampires as I descended the stairs and approached the back garden with Mr. Bald. I decided it would be better to go through the whole affair in third person; no feelings whatsoever.
And it worked.
The event passed in a blur. However, since I couldn’t shut my eyes, I couldn’t unsee the expression on Viktor’s face as I walked alone down the aisle.
His stare was level, like that of someone who was gazing at a face he was far too used to seeing.
It was annoying, even more so because I didn’t want to feel anything.
But, beyond that, was the audacity he had to claim my lips with his.
The silent, unblinking confidence in his movement as he kissed me as if I had always been his.
The way his eyes took mine in as if daring me to voice my displeasure.
Anyway, that was the last thing I did. He had taken my hands as we left the garden amidst cheers, like the happiest couple in the world.
**********
Once we passed the garden and stepped into the back door of the house, I slipped my hand from Viktor’s firm one.
I wasn’t surprised that he remained silent; we hadn’t talked except for when we exchanged vows, and of course, we were saying the vows for the audience, not to each other.
I gathered the skirt of the dress in my hands, ready to ascend the stairs ahead of him, when he spoke.
“You’re coming with me.”
I couldn’t stop my neck from twisting to the right, towards him.
“With you? Why?”
“By virtue of the dress you’re putting on, your question is unfounded, don’t you think?” he questioned.
The lump in my throat made it hard for me to swallow.
I had been expecting a lot of things to be thrown way today. Having to repeat vows I didn’t mean. Having to kiss a man I’d rather stab with a table knife. Having to appear in pictures I’d rather burn.
But, hell, if I’d even once entertained a single thought of him asking me to move to wherever he laid his criminal head.
I was doing just fine in my room.
Okay, I wasn’t. I mean, it was a prison, more or less. But, still…
He raised a questioning brow, and I didn’t know whether to cower away in fright or up my unfeeling performance. While the debate went on in my head about which path to tread, I made a resolution not to shrink like he was clearly expecting me to.
Readjusting my dress in my hand, I took another ascending step without looking to see Viktor’s reaction.
Of course, he overtook me on the wide stairs.
He wordlessly led me up another flight of stairs above the floor my room was on, and down a short hallway.
And then he stopped for a millisecond to open a door that looked like something made out of rare mahogany.
The room was nothing like I would have expected if I were to guess.
It wasn’t cloak-and-dagger in style, nor was it loudly lavish.
The space, which had to be bigger than my parents’ house, looked sparsely filled and heavily furnished at the same time.
A large king-sized bed flanked by two nightstands sat magnificently against the far wall, and a navy blue velvet couch marked where the same wall met the right wall.
Two doors stood far apart on the left wall, and a black leather sofa sat beside a dresser-and-chair pair against the wall facing the bed.
A flat, sleek television hung on the wall opposite the bed.
Every part of the room screamed luxury. But the arrangement of the room wasn’t what surprised me.
It was the colors. The fresh, bright, I’m-living-a-good-life kind of colors that brightened the room.
From the abstract paintings scattered across the walls to the fresh mixed bouquets on the nightstands and in transparent vases by different wall edges, the room looked like a place I would have tied to some laid-back billionaire CEO or a young art professor, not a crime boss.
As Viktor strolled past the bed while unknotting his tie, I wondered what to do with myself instead of standing by the door like an uninvited guest.
Well, I’m anything but uninvited.
He invited me himself.
If he’s cool and comfortable, I too can be.
With brazen confidence, I brushed off my hatred and discomfort about my situation and sauntered towards the dresser.
I moved towards the first door as he removed his cufflinks and dropped them in a drawer he’d pulled out of the nightstand.
I mentally smacked myself on the head for not realizing it wasn’t the bathroom door.
It was a walk-in closet with two double-door wardrobes on opposite sides.
Even company managers don’t have four full-height wardrobes.
I held the doorknob to close the closet door. But then, a curious thought crossed my mind.
He probably has a wardrobe for black suits and another for gray ones.
I took a step into the closet.
What if he suddenly questions me for going into his closet?
Closets are personal, aren’t they?
What better way to show him I don’t care about all he’s throwing my way than acting like I own the place?
My hands extended to open the first wardrobe, and I opened both doors before another thought could creep into my mind.
What the hell am I staring at?
My eyes moved in a flutter of blinks as I tried to make sense of the clothes I was staring at.
They were all mine. There were jeans, pants, T-shirts, simple sheath dresses, and longer ones－all in different colors. I didn’t need to touch the arranged heaps of lace and silk beneath the hangers to know they were underwear.
I threw the doors closed and took a calming breath. I knew I couldn’t stomp towards him to ask why he had a wardrobe filled with my clothes. His answer, just like I asked, why I would be going to his room, would be another ‘What were you expecting?’ line.
I’ll just be cool.
I stepped out of the closet to find him already standing by the window to the right of the bed, typing away on his phone.
With my back to the closet door, I wondered what to do with myself. I had been doing well with the unconcerned act until currently, but I didn’t know if I wanted to remain cool or scream the damn house down in frustration.
Viktor placed his phone on the nightstand and slipped his hands into his pockets.
What now?
He’s clearly counting down to the consummation of the damn matrimony.
My eyes darted to the wide bed, and I internally shuddered at the thought of lying bare in it.
I had never associated pain with losing my virginity since I always looked forward to giving it to my husband, a man who would love me as much as I loved him and would be as gentle as humanly possible with me.
Now, I’m about to lose it to a man who couldn’t care less about a woman’s body.
I was halfway to the sofa by the dresser when he asked, “How are you doing?”
Then he turned around, and I stood there, just looking at him. His expression wasn’t as unreadable, but his steel gray eyes still focused on me like he was seeing something on a deeper level. But it was the tinge of discomfort on his face that stood out to me.
“Are you…doing well?” he inquired, coming closer to the center of the room where I stood.
I was confused. By his unexpected question and how he looked like a nun who just spat out a curse word in public. However, confusion alone didn’t cut it. I was frustrated.
He had no right to act cool and concerned like a husband. He was the criminal who kidnapped me and forced me into marriage, all because of a debt. Monetary debt, for that matter. It was annoyingly confusing that he was asking about my well-being as if he had to.
To hell with being cool.
“What do you think? I was a regular college student just yesterday, and now I’m a crime boss’ wife!” I chided, my eyes meeting his.
“I believe the right title is mob boss’ wife, not crime boss,” he uttered, his face giving nothing away.
If I was confused and frustrated before, I was getting to the ‘livid’ mark now.
“You ruined my life! I had things going on for me, and you just yank everything out of my hands because my dad owes you,” I bit out. “I hate you!”
His gaze remained steady. Like he had been expecting all that, and he couldn’t be less affected.
Bracing myself for the kind of roughness I’d only heard about, I clenched my teeth as I looked up to meet his face again.
“Just get it over with. There’s no point in stalling,” I dropped.
I’d just swallow my pain and anger while he did as he pleased. I wouldn’t die. Cowering away from him was the one thing I didn’t want to do. Ever.
“Get what over with?” A slight crease formed between his eyes.
My shoulders slumped as I released a stupefied sigh.
“You made me your wife, forcefully, might I add. I’m sure you can’t wait to claim…have sex, whatever.”
The last response I expected was what he gave me.
He smiled.
Not a full smile; more like an upturning of the right corner of his lips. But I’d be lying if I said it didn’t surprise me that he had the ability to show such a human emotion. That the sight didn’t make him look more ordinary, and that it didn’t have a teeny weeny softening effect on me.
Then, very slowly, he circled me, making me feel like an antique about to be auctioned at a trade fair. I held on to my defiant energy as if my life depended on it, as his presence threatened to envelop me.
He was standing in front of me again. Closer this time. Close enough for me to feel his cool breath on my skin.
“Do you want to have sex?”
Garnering courage, I nodded as I said, “Yes.”
His smile was closer to a full one, this time.
“Emilia,” he practically crooned as his right hand caressed my hair and slid down to tuck a wavy tendril behind my ear.
Hearing my name sound like secret worship made me swallow.
“Look at me,” he instructed, his soft tone not concealing the confidence beneath his words. I did as he said. “Fear me if you will, but don’t lie to me. You think obedience is what I want. You’re wrong. All I want is the truth.”
I blinked, not having the slightest idea of what to say.
“You hate me, and the last thing you want is my hands on your body, I know that much,” he declared, with that deep searching look on his face again. “I have never forced a lady to my bed; I won’t do it to you, either. We will only make love when you want it. Until then…I am a very patient man.”
“I’ll never be ready,” I retorted, shaking my head as I took a step back.
“You will be,” he answered, his voice cool. “Soon.”
The power and confidence his concise words exuded annoyed and magnetized me at the same time.
It was devastating that my anger and resentment still had an allowance for me to notice his restraint, something I might have liked in him if we had met in a different situation.
It didn’t block my eyes from taking in his sculpted chin and the streaks of silver around the edges of his dark, short hair.
“What did you marry me for, then?” I questioned.
“Your father owes me millions, and you’re more valuable alive, beside me here,” he replied in a flat tone.
“Right,” I muttered before folding my arms and adding, “Well, my dad will be here for me soon, I hope you know that.”
He looked at me like he knew I didn’t fully believe that myself.
“It’ll soon be 24 hours since I’ve had you in my custody. A clear message has been sent to him, and there have been no signs of communication from your father. He’s a weak man who can’t show his face against the Bratva.”
“He must be devising a plan to come save me,” I rushed.
He laughed.
“You’re delusional,” he disclosed.
************
Since my disturbing conversation with Viktor, I had been agitated.
It wasn’t like I hadn’t been having doubts about my dad caring enough to come save me, but hearing it out loud made my fears more alive.
It was late at night, and I hadn’t seen Viktor since he left me in the room earlier in the afternoon.
I paced the length of the room in the jeans and black T-shirt I’d changed into earlier.
I’m really on my own.
I had been ruminating on my plan to escape the mansion all evening, and my fear of what Viktor’s penalty would be if his men caught me hadn’t subsided a bit.
I looked at the table clock on the left nightstand to see that it was 10:26 pm.
He might be coming in anytime soon.
It’s now or never.
Damn the consequences.
I approached the door and gingerly turned the knob. I was pleasantly surprised when the door opened. I looked around the dimly lit hallway to see if anyone was around. It was empty. So I closed the door without turning around to face the room.
Pursing my lips didn’t reduce the thumping sound of my heart as I padded down the hallway on bare feet.
I looked around again as I stalked down the stairs to the floor of my previous room.
Mentally thanking the powers that be for keeping everyone busy at the same time, I went down the last flight of stairs. I sighed in silent relief as my eyes landed on the back door that led to the back garden.
I took a step towards the door. My heart almost jumped out of my mouth as a strong arm wrapped around my stomach, pulling my back into a firm body.
“Try that again, little dove,” he rasped, his voice venomous against the back of my ear. “And I’ll tie you to my bed until you forget the existence of freedom.”
Oh, I’m dead.