Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
Annika
“Annika. Annika? Are you feeling alright?”
“Hmmm?” I hum, my eyes still fixed on Kirill’s possessive stare.
Valya shakes my shoulder, forcing me to come out of the daze Kirill’s eyes have me locked in.
They’ve been on me all day. Through the ceremony, and now throughout the reception.
Even as we stand on opposite sides of the room, I find his intense gaze on me every time I look over.
With effort, I force my eyes away from his, and turn to my sister.
I feel a deep red blush bloom in my cheeks when I see she’s not alone, but with a beautiful woman.
Both are staring at with wide, knowing grins.
“Oh, gosh, I am sorry,” I laugh, “I seem to not be able to keep my eyes off my new groom.”
Value’s brow raises in amusement as her grin widens, and this other woman gives me a soft laugh.
“It’s okay. I would be having the same problem if Kirill Pavlovich was my new husband too,” the woman giggles. “He’s the catch, you know. Not just for power, but looks.”
To my surprise, I feel a tremor of jealousy pass through me at the woman’s words, but before I can figure out what to do about it, the woman keeps talking.
“I was just telling your sister here that I wanted to come over and introduce myself. My name is Viktoryia Abakumov, my husband Mikhail is your husband’s lawyer. I know what it’s like to be arranged married into the family, so I wanted to come offer my support and friendship.”
I relax instantly, and smile genuinely at Viktoryia as we shake hands.
“Oh, I would like that very much, Viktoryia,” I eagerly reply. “There is so much for me to learn about this world. I would appreciate any help I could get.”
“It’s nowhere near as scary as the rumors make it out to be,” Viktoria assures me. “Our men are demanding and fierce, yes. But they are also very protective and passionate. Just you wait and see.”
I don’t have to wait at all to ‘see’ the passion part.
If my one night stand with Kirill hadn’t proven that already, the kiss he gave me at our wedding ceremony earlier certainly did.
Even now, I still feel the lingering heat and intensity of his lips.
Not just on my mouth, but throughout my entire body and deep into my mind.
It's as if he’s branded me; leaving a mark that will never fade.
“Is that true for all of them?” Valya asks, then points to the man who had almost been my husband. We all directed our gaze to Pyotr.
Valya told me how the man acted in the waiting room, and I had to admit that even though I was nervous about marrying the Pakhan, I was relieved to know that I was no longer marrying Pyotr. He's handsome, there's no doubt…but he seems hostile. Unsteady. Even now, I shiver as I look at him.
“Pyotr is a very different story,” Viktoryia replies, glancing to the floor.
“And that story is?” Valya asks.
Viktoryia shakes her head, her smile gone. “Not mine to tell.”
“Well, whatever that story is, that doesn’t stop him from being hot,” Valya replies.
She then gives a sultry grin in Pyotr’s direction, and when he looks over at her and she wags her pinky at him, he winks before turning his focus back to his conversation.
“Valya!” I whisper loudly.
“What?” she laughs. “It’s not like he’s yours anymore. Who knows? Maybe Papa will marry me into the Pavlovich family too. We could always use more alliances, right?”
“I’m sorry for my sister,” I apologize to Viktoryia, but the woman only laughs.
“Don’t apologize, your sister is right,” she replies. “He is hot. And probably a fun, albeit slightly scary ride. I prefer my husband, though, and he certainly prefers me.”
She adds the last bit with a wink, and I relax again.
At least it’s good to hear that there are some faithful marriages.
After all, men in power are notorious for affairs.
Even if I barely know Kirill, I don’t like the idea of being cheated on.
In fact the thought of it sends a sudden ache through my heart.
“Pardon me ladies,” a familiar deep voice comes from behind me. I feel a delicious shiver run up my spine as Kirill makes himself known, and I can’t help but smile as I turn to face him.
His piercing blue eyes burn into mine, sending another wave of relaxing warmth through my body.
“Congratulations, Pakhan,” Viktoryia says, her tone respectful. “This has been a beautiful wedding.”
“I’m so glad you are enjoying yourself, Viktoryia,” he states, not looking away from me. “But I’m going to have to steal my wife away from you. It is time for the first dance, and you know how I don’t like to break away from tradition.”
“Steal away,” Viktoryia replies, then nudges her arm against mine.
“It was a pleasure to meet you, Annika. Have Kirill give you my number some time. We’ll go shopping with our husbands' credit cards.”
Though I’m shocked at Viktoryia’s bold words, Kirill only laughs. A smooth, tantalizing sound that has me wanting to hear it again.
“I’ll be sure to do that,” he promises.
As Viktoryia and Valya move away, Kirill extends his hand to me.
“Shall we, wife?” he asks, his tone taunting as a smirk touches his lips.
I feel my smile widen.
“Well, we mustn’t break tradition,” I playfully replied as I slip my hand into his.
The moment I do, sparks shoot through my fingers and up my arm, creating a warm buzz that travels through my veins and settles into my womb.
“How are you feeling?” he asks, leading me to the dance floor. “Any problems with the baby?”
Surprised at how genuinely concerned he sounds, it takes me a moment to answer.
“Um, no,” I reply. “All settled.”
“And you?” Kirill asks, moving his other hand firmly to my lower back to start the dance. “Are you feeling settled?”
I let out a nervous laugh.
“I’m not sure if I will ever feel settled,” I confess. “This entire thing has been a whirlwind. What happened a month ago. This. How accepting everyone has been.”
“They accept what I tell them to accept,” Kirill states, starting to guide me into the dance. “You don’t ever have to worry about rumors, devochka. I’ll take care of them before they ever start.”
I may not know him well, but I believe him.
Even though most of my focus has been pulled to Kirill throughout the day, I didn’t miss the bows or kisses to my new husband’s hand, or the way our guests all went silent and watched him closely any time he so much as moved an inch.
I’m just not sure if it is their fear or respect of him.
For whatever reason, though, he has our guests' pure devotion.
“You did well picking out a new dress,” Kirill praises, raking his eyes down my figure. “The first one was beautiful, but I like this one much better.”
My cheeks flush at the compliment. With far less time I chose a simpler design. I kept with the ivory white silk and the long sleeves, but I went with a mermaid style dress with an off the shoulder design.
“Thank you,” I whisper, my voice strained. “For the compliment and the line of credit. You didn’t have to do that.”
I leave it at that, feeling utterly flustered by his close proximity.
His hand on my back is distracting me. It’s warm and firm, and it feels like his possessive touch is melting through the very fabric of my dress. Or- maybe I just wish it will. My hunger for him has been growing all day, even through my anxious state.
Kirill cocks his head, an amused grin forming on his face.
“So you can talk to Viktoryia about how hot my brother looks but you can’t talk to me about your dress?”
My mouth drops open, completely caught off guard by his goading.
“I- I didn’t say that,” I reply.
“No,” he muses, “But you certainly thought it.”
I feel my cheeks grow hotter. He might not be a man to show much emotion but he certainly seemed to be able to read mine. I raise my chin, fighting through the trepidation my new husband is making her feel.
“Even if I did, this marriage is just a business deal, right? It’s not like you actually need to want me. Or I need to want you.”
Kirill’s grin grows, and he slowly spins me around, pressing his chest tightly to my back. His fingertips trail down my arms, sending sparks of arousal through my body before resting possessively upon the tiny bump of my stomach.
“There’s that sharp tongue I’ve been dreaming about,” he whispers in my ear.
Unable to help myself, I lean into his body, my lashes fluttering as if he’d just whispered the most sinful thing possible. “But I want you be careful, devochka” he warns with a deadly soft tone, “You’re mine now. And I don’t share.”
Kirill slowly spins me back around, and as I open my eyes, I see his gaze has transformed from playful to deadly serious.
“It is you that needs to be careful,” I reply, hoping my voice doesn’t shake, “It almost sounds like you’re jealous.”
I try to leave it at that, to take the upper hand, but I can’t take Kirill’s intense stare.
“I don’t want your brother,” I confess, my tone low so only he can hear. He may be handsome but he scares me.”
“And I don’t?” Kirill asks, raising a brow.
I meet his gaze, feeling mores sparks travel through my body. God, I want him.
“You told me not to, remember?” I bravely remind him.
Kirill’s grin slowly returns.
“And you do as you’re told, do you?” he asks.
My eyes dip to the floor, my blush growing so hot I feel beads of sweat form on my forehead. He’s won the upper hand, and after what I just admitted, there's no way for me to get it back.
Kirill’s deep chuckle has my eyes venturing up to his again, and he shakes his head.
“Don't hide from me, devochka. I reward obedience.”
His deep voices whispers the promise as his fingers softly grip my chin, and I feel a gush between my legs. I look back at him, speechless.
As the song ends, he releases me and steps away, snapping me out of the daze he’d pulled me into, and raises a hand signal toward the band. Immediately the MC comes running to him with the microphone, and before it is even in his hand, our guests grow quiet and give him their undivided attention.
I can’t help it. I marvel at the power my new husband holds over people.
“Privetstvuyu vas, dorogiye druz'ya i sem’ya,” Kirill speaks into the microphone.
“Privet, Pakhan,” a chorus of voices answers.
“My beautiful new wife and I want to thank you all for helping us celebrate this most sacred occasion. It is alliances such as these that make our family stronger and better. Help us build a greater world for our future and our children. Tomorrow we go to work. But tonight, we celebrate our accomplishments. Annika and I will retire, but you, you will stay. You will drink, and you will enjoy the life that we have worked so hard to protect.”
A waiter approaches unsummoned, and hands Kirill and I each a glass of champagne.
“K zhizni,” Kirill says, raising his glass in the air.
“K zhizni, Pakhan,” the chorus of guests answers, raising their glasses to him.
I watch it all, transfixed by the way my new husband seems to have a tight hold on every single person around us.
My father is a powerful man. He has the respect of many.
But I’ve never seen anything like what Kirill has just done.
I watch him with growing wonder as he drinks from his glass, then he turns to me and gives me an insisting look.
“I…I can’t,” I say, still mesmerized, “The baby.”
Kirill’s smirk is nearly obnoxious as he reaches for the bottom of my glass and gently pushes it up.
“It’s sparkling cider, devochka,” he tells me. “You really think I would let you do anything to hurt my child?”
No, I think as I raise the glass to my lips. As I take a sip of bubbly apple juice, I also decide that he wouldn’t do anything to hurt me either. As long, of course, as I obey.