Chapter 8 - Katya
I’ve never hated anyone more than I hate Sergey right now.
Lukov. That’s what I’m supposed to be called now. One moment, I’m living my usual life, going home for the night. And now, I’m married to a man I don’t even know. To one who placed himself on my path all for the sake of screwing over my brother.
To get a leg up in a world I have nothing to do with.
I could be furious at Yuri for pursuing this life in Dad’s absence. Hell, I could be angry with the latter for putting him on that track to begin with. And maybe I should loathe whichever one of his brothers killed my father.
But above all, Sergey wins. He takes the cake.
Throughout the entire flight, I felt as though I was vibrating under my skin, waiting for the moment to break free. I felt like I was moments away from snapping and doing something stupid.
Every part of me wanted to punch Sergey so hard he wouldn’t ever smirk again.
But now…I’m locked in his pristine, soulless house that feels more like a box than luxury. Even with the spotless paint, floor-to-ceiling windows, and the finest bedding a girl could ask for, I hate it.
Standing in the center of what he so graciously called my room, I keep my arms folded tight and pace with nothing better to do. The rage curls within my chest, waiting for the moment to strike.
Even if I grew up around wealth, this room is something completely different from what I was ever used to.
Maybe I should be impressed by how luxurious a single room can be, but I decided from an early age that this kind of life wasn’t for me.
I left it all behind for a reason, and now, I’m thrust right back in it against my will.
Of course, knowing this is just a high-end prison with a king-sized bed doesn’t make it any easier to swallow. Vegas skyline views or not, he left me locked in this room because he knew I wouldn’t calm down yet. Far from it.
Adrenaline and fury work hand in hand inside my chest while I reach for a vase in the corner and throw it at the wall. It crashes and shatters with a satisfying burst of expensive porcelain, only somewhat satisfying my lust for more destruction.
“I’m not your goddamn wife,” I utter into the empty air around me.
If he has a camera hidden somewhere in the room, then let him see. Let him hear just how much I despise him.
Sergey said he liked my anger, and there’s certainly no shortage of it.
I pace the room harder, pulling drawers open and slamming them shut again, rooting through the closet and the nightstands.
Checking high and low, I look for my belongings just in case he decided to have them hidden just to taunt me, but I don’t find anything. None of my clothes, no phone, and no bag. There aren’t even any spare clothes.
Which brings me to an indisputable fact: Sergey didn’t plan this ahead of time.
No…abducting me and forcing me to legally marry him was a short-sighted, last-minute decision. I’m sure of it.
But if Sergey went to stalk me without planning this part, then what was his actual goal? Why did he actually take me?
Too many questions take up space in my head, and I don’t have the energy to keep up with them all. I shouldn’t care anyway. I just need to get out of here.
Still, knowing he brought me here like a pet, he didn’t even prepare for it makes my chest tighten. My skin burns with a helplessness I haven’t felt since I was a teenager—before I got away and changed the trajectory of my life.
I was sick of watching men in suits walk through the house so casually while they did business with Dad, either leaving feeling triumphant or dying in his office due to their schemes getting away from them. Of watching how it darkened my dad and started to poison my brother.
I knew what happened to most young women caught up in that world, and I left it as soon as I could.
And here I am again. Powerless and seeing my worst nightmare actualized right before me.
Held hostage by a man who finds sadistic glee and amusement in my suffering. One with a twisted sense of what protection looks like.
He claimed it was for both my sake and his family’s, but even he doesn’t seem to know what he wants or what his true motives are.
Either way, I don’t want anything to do with it.
A disarmingly soft knock at the door tears me out of my thoughts, followed by the unmistakable click of the lock releasing.
Spinning around, I catch as Sergey walks in, kicking my anger into high gear.
He smirks again. Of course.
Dressed in a black button-down with the sleeves rolled up now, his expensive watch flashes while he takes a few steps in. He glances briefly at the broken vase across the room, then to the half-open drawers. Even so, he doesn’t look angry.
“I see you already got a head start on making the space yours,” he hums, not letting me think for even a moment that my outrage concerns him. “Nice personal touch.”
“Let me out of here,” I demand while stalking towards him, finger pointed at his chest with every scathing intention behind it. “Or I swear to god, I’ll ruin your life.”
“Sounds fun,” he murmurs, looking down at me like he’s completely unfazed. “I’m counting on it.”
His arrogance churns my rage further. “Don’t test me.”
Sergey chuckles to himself with his hands casually in his trouser pockets, letting that lazy grin linger. “This is only the beginning, Kat…I’m sure I’ll have plenty more tests ahead for you.”
His proximity almost burns, and I hate the way it feels almost magnetic.
I should back away. Hell, I want to. But I don’t, because if I do, then he wins.
Instead, I stand tall, focusing my effort on looking just as unfazed.
“You’re acting like I’ve done something to you. Like you have some kind of vendetta.”
“Oh, Kat…maybe you have done something without realizing it.”
My brows furrow at that, not catching his meaning.
I haven’t done anything. All I did was go on with my life and try my hardest to stay out of my brother’s way. I thought I was doing harmless work for Sergey, but now I know it was all a ploy. It was pointless.
He catches on to my confusion, and he only seems more thrilled by this. He tilts his head slightly, glancing at my lips before returning them to my eyes with a calmness that has me wanting to let go of my restraint.
“Tell me something,” Sergey murmurs, using up too much of the limited space between us and making it intimate. “Do you honestly think I’d let you go after all of this effort?”
“Effort? You mean a half-assed plan to throw back in Yuri’s face?”
He sighs, shaking his head with a dramatic touch. “Yuri this, Yuri that…do you ever think of anyone other than your brother?”
I narrow my gaze at him. “Actually, yes.”
He hums again, feigning thought. “Maybe that’s true. If you thought of your brother more, then I’m sure you’d be right by his side. Or at the very least, you’d be his puppet, following his commands like a good little sister. Really, you should thank me for taking you away from that fate.”
Gritting my teeth, it takes every ounce of willpower not to lunge at him. “I’m not thanking you for anything.”
“Of course not…but perhaps if things were different, we wouldn’t have this issue between our families,” Sergey muses, letting his eyes light up with satisfaction as if a revelation hit him.
“Maybe in another scenario, your brother might’ve married you to one of us anyway as a means of forging some kind of peace between our families.
If you think of it that way, you had one of two options—let your brother decide your fate, or let me. ”
“You’re forgetting about the option where I decide for myself,” I return, not backing down from him. “And if you have a brain in your head, you’ll realize you’ve made a mistake. One that might cost you everything.”
“You’re giving yourself a lot of credit.”
With a subtle bold streak, I take a step closer. “I might have nothing to do with Yuri and his business, but that doesn’t mean I grew up oblivious to it all. We shared the same father, after all.”
Something shifts in his eyes, almost like he doesn’t entirely love that claim. As if he’s actually considering how much weight my words hold.
But, as that doesn’t please him, Sergey shrugs it off. Instead, he looks down at me and puts on an unreadable expression.
“If I truly made a mistake, then it’s the most fascinating one I’ve ever made.”
What the hell is that supposed to mean?
The way he talks so flippantly about all of this, as if he isn’t toying with my life, drives me insane. I want to slap the smugness off his face more than anything.
Instead, I glance at the open door behind him and his relaxed, disarmed pose.
Growing sick of him, I move to shove past him, not caring if I’m supposed to stay in the room or not. I don’t want to be trapped. I refuse to be.
But before I get far, Sergey catches my wrist with ridiculous speed. His grip is firm but not cruel as he holds me in place, looking at me with an authority that makes me want to scream.
At the same time, his touch is warmer than I want to admit or even want to notice.
“I’ll let you out,” he starts, lifting a subtle brow at me. “When you finally admit you were made for this life.”
Something about that feels like a knife to my chest.
I don’t know what he wants or why he’s doing this to me, but that…that’s the last thing I’ll ever admit.
“I have nothing to do with any of this and I never will,” I snap, refusing to give in. “I never asked for this, and I won’t sit back and act like your wife.”
“You sound so sure of that.”
“Because I am.”
Sergey’s eyes sweep over me slowly, deliberate in the way he still grips my arm. Awareness runs through my system, making me hyperaware of just how close he is to me. Of how charged that space between us is.
“I’m not scared of you,” I murmur, annoyed by how much quieter the words come out.
“Good,” Sergey hums as he leans in, voice brushing against my ear. “Fear would be boring.”
I try not to let his nearness shake me, but there’s something almost tender in his presence, and that, I cannot have.