Chapter 30
Leo
T he seconds tick by agonizingly slowly until finally, it is time for me to turn around to face her.
I’d wanted to turn to look earlier when she first walked out, but my uncle’s stern instructions had been to wait for him to signal when.
Judging by the look on his face as he sees her, he’s pissed at me.
He knows I lied about her beauty. But then she starts to walk, and he notices her limp, his face contorting with disgust. I want to rip his throat out for looking at her like that. I pray she hasn’t noticed.
She looks even more beautiful than I remembered, though her hair has been dyed and is now longer.
Though there’s a hollowness to her, a look of defeat that makes me want to rip Eamonn Quinn’s still beating heart from his chest for doing it to her.
I can tell from her tense posture and the way she is holding her breath that being so close to him, for him to have his hand possessively on her arm like that is unbearable to her.
I try to remain calm. To remind myself of why she has to go through this.
I have to keep up the pretense just a little longer.
Once she’s mine, I can come clean to her about everything.
I can make her happy. I will give her vengeance against Quinn for every ounce of pain she’s endured because of him. I will make her understand.
The six days without her were agony. Six days of not seeing her, of not knowing what Quinn was subjecting her to, of not being able to do anything about it.
I’ve never felt more helpless in my life.
I pushed for the wedding to be as soon as possible without arousing suspicion, but still, I fear those days have harmed Nora in ways I can’t even begin to imagine.
As recognition flickers across her face, she barely hides the confusion and hurt before replacing it with the cool mask she’s adopting to get through this.
I know that the cause of this new pain is me, my lies.
I pretended to be someone I am not. She knows me only as Max her neighbor, not Leonid Belyh, heir to the Bratva fortune and rival of her father.
The way she looks at me now wounds me to my core.
The fire in her eyes is gone. She looks every bit as fragile as her small frame suggests.
I hope that seeing my face, she feels some sense of security, that she knows me, that finally she will see me and not Max.
I don’t have my contact lenses in today, I’m ready to confess, but when I see the hurt in her eyes, I’m not sure that I can.
When the ceremony begins, Nora’s gaze remains focused on the floor.
I will her to look at me, to look into my eyes and see the truth.
That it’s me, her watcher. The one she came undone for night after night.
No one says anything when the priest asks if anyone has any objections to the union.
They wouldn’t dare, not if they value their life.
Even Nora doesn’t waver, her face still a blank canvas, hiding her emotions.
There’s a flicker of emotion across her face when the priest says, “Do you, Leonid Maksimovich Belyh, take Norelle Quinn to be your lawfully wedded wife?”
“I do,” I reply, my voice strong, clear, and without hesitation.
Nora hesitates when asked the same question. The moment’s pause feels like an eternity.
Finally, her voice barely above a whisper, she says, “I do.”
I have to remind myself for the rest of the ceremony to keep the grin off my face, adopting a stoic, small smile that doesn’t show my teeth.
Nora is truly mine. Just a few more words, a couple of documents to sign, and it’s official.
I try to inject as much comfort and love into my vows as I can without arousing Dimitri’s suspicions.
The urge to reach out and touch her, to run away with her and never look back is overwhelming, but this is the best way to protect her. The only way.
I have to remind myself of that, especially when the priest says, “You may kiss the bride.”
Nora recoils as though scalded. We’ve kissed before, but with Nora’s aversion to being touched and the betrayal she’s feeling right now, I know kissing me in front of a roomful of strangers is the last thing she wants to do.
I’d tried to convince Dimitri that it was an unnecessary part of the ceremony, but both he and Quinn were adamant it remained in.
I do not doubt that it was purely a control and humiliation tactic on both their parts.
They don’t know they’re marrying two soulmates.
They think this is a forced union of strangers.
Nora stands stock still, but we have to do this, both of us know it. I step closer, taking the lead. I gently take her hand in mine and lightly squeeze her fingers.
It’s okay. I love you , I try to convey with my touch. Still, she won’t meet my eyes. As I lean down to kiss her, she scrunches her eyes tight and clenches her jaw, holding her breath. I lightly press my lips against her lips before pulling away.
The room erupts into applause, and I can hear my uncle boasting about how much more willing his brides were. “You call that a kiss?” he jeers.
I ignore it, taking the brief moment of distraction to whisper into Nora’s ear. “I’ll explain everything later, I promise.”
“No need. I see everything clearly now,” she hisses back, and I see a flicker of the fire back in her eyes.
There’s my girl.
The reception feels more like an Irish wake. I suppose to Nora it is. While the rest of the guests get drunk and are having a good time, Nora and I sit in awkward silence. The attempts I make to talk to her are met with monosyllabic replies or outright ignored. It seems my wife can hold a grudge.
My wife.
“If only your new bride seemed as happy by your union as you do, nephew,” my uncle says from my side at the table.
The smile drops from my face. He doesn’t have to say anything, I know what he’s thinking. I won’t deign myself to respond.
His blow having landed, he turns his attention to Quinn, who sits at Nora’s side. “I must say your daughter’s beauty lives up to your promises Quinn, but it is a shame about her deformity.”
Nora winces and the table takes a collective sharp intake of breath, wondering how Quinn will respond to the insult.
Quinn smiles, a shark’s grin that reveals all of his teeth. “Thank you, Belyh, she is quite lovely, isn’t she? So like her mother. However, I respectfully disagree.”
His words surprise me, I did not expect that heartless bastard to defend his daughter.
But then he continues, and I realize Quinn is exactly the scum I anticipated. “Norelle’s disability makes her the perfect obedient wife for Leonid. For she cannot run, cannot escape, no other would want her or covet what is not theirs, and it has made her more compliant.”
Dimitri nods in agreement and understanding. “You argue a good case. How did the girl come to be deformed? I trust it is not some sort of birth defect we should be concerned about.”
He’s calm and collected, but the threat is clear. If it’s a birth defect, Nora might have an accident and tragically pass away before we get a chance to produce sullied offspring.
My fists clench under the table as I try to control my anger.
“Not at all, I wouldn’t insult my good friend like that.
I was the one who did it. Norelle was a willful child, she needed to learn a lesson.
I’ve found that a good old-fashioned knee-capping works wonders, both inside and outside the home, for dealing with those who cause problems. Women are like young fillies, they need breaking in before you can ride them! ” he replies, laughing loudly.
Dimitri and the other men at the table break into raucous laughter at his disgusting joke.
I picture myself getting up from my chair to move behind Quinn, drawing a knife along his neck and watching the blood pour out onto the white linen tablecloth.
Nora never told me how she got her scar, and my research didn’t tell me anything other than the barest details of her childhood.
The thought that it was her father who did that to her sickens me.
How could he mistreat and abuse his own flesh and blood and behave as if it’s something to be proud of?
“Most would argue that a daughter is not the father’s responsibility to break in… or ride,” I chime in with a cold smile, acting as if I am merely part of the joke.
My comment earns a laugh from the men.
Quinn’s eyes flash with anger at the insinuation only he picked up on.
He’s wondering how much I know about his depravity.
But he laughs along too. These men might be ruthless, vile, and cruel, but even they would be disgusted by a father molesting his underage daughter.
Quinn knows that, knows what it would do to his reputation if anyone found out.
Let him worry. Nora’s mine now, not his, and there’s nothing he can do about it.
I look over at Nora, who is pushing her food around on her plate, her eyes glistening with unshed tears that she furiously tries to blink away.
I curse myself for my carelessness. My words, designed to hurt Quinn, have also unintentionally caused her pain too.
But she just thinks I’ve made a comment that is a little too close to the truth without knowing it.
She didn’t tell Max about her father, and she doesn’t know it was me she confided in.
The conversation moves on, and after a while, Dimitri says to Quinn, “The last time we spoke, we discussed the possible union of you and one of our beautiful Russian women to further fortify our bond. Would you care to meet the girl I told you of now?”
“Of course.”
Dimitri nods and one of the men appears with a young girl I recognize, my cousin.
“Quinn, meet Katerina, your bride, should you wish,” Dimitri declares proudly.
Katerina curtseys and smiles genially. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir,” she says in a sweet, babyish voice.
Quinn’s leering gaze looks her over, a predator sizing up its meal. “The pleasure is all mine, dear Katerina.”
“But she’s only fifteen!” I blurt out, unable to hold back my disgust at the suggestion that such a young girl is being offered to marry a man four times her age.
Dimitri glares at me before addressing Quinn. “She will be sixteen this month. A woman and legally able to marry here in LA with parental consent, which, of course, is freely and gladly given.”
I feel sick. It is a well-known fact that Quinn likes his women—no girls—young. It seems no one here cares, so long as the money keeps flowing. Women are property to be traded and sold as they see fit.
“I would be most honored to be your wife, sir,” Katerina says shyly.
Bile rises to my throat, and I feel the desperate urge to get away, I can’t bear to hear any more. “Excuse me, I need some air,” I growl, standing up abruptly. Nora looks almost as desperate as me to get away, so I add, “Nora—Norelle,” I quickly correct, “join me?”
I must be the lesser of the evils, as Nora nods gratefully and rises to come with me. We walk to the balcony overlooking the grand gardens of Dimitri’s home where the wedding party is being held. I can hear the jeers and jokes of the young couple being desperate for some alone time.
“God, it’s sick. It makes me sick! She’s a child and they’re going to force her—”
“Force her to marry someone she doesn’t love? Force her to marry a monster?” Nora snaps, her pointed words daggers to my heart. “I might not be a child, but how is this any different? At least she seems happy to marry,” she says bitterly.
“Nora, I’m sorry it had to be like this. I didn’t want…” I struggle to find the words to explain.
“Didn’t want to lie to me? To manipulate me? To make a fool out of me? The whole time you were working for him .” She says it with such venom I know she’s talking about her father.
“No. Nora, if you’ll just let me explain. You know me.”
“No. I don’t. I knew a lie, and even then, I didn’t want you,” she hisses, coming in close to look me in the eye, to show me how serious she is.
Her words are a dagger through my heart, and then as she rips it still beating from my chest, crushing it under her heel.
I want to tell her about me—tell her that I’m her protector.
But seeing the hurt in her eyes makes me realize that it might be a betrayal too far.
Instead, I’m going to have to make her fall in love with me.
Leonid Belyh. Not Max, and not the masked man.
“I might have to remain trapped in this life as your wife, but don’t kid yourself for one second that I want you, or that I will ever forgive you for this.”