Chapter 31
Nora
F or the rest of the awful evening, I have avoided meeting Max’s—no, Leonid’s—sorrowful gaze and I’ve refused to say another word to him.
Max was a lie. I don’t know this man. The hurt on his handsome face is simply another manipulation, another lie to fool me into bending to his will.
For a moment when I saw his blue eyes, my thoughts went to my watcher.
I wonder if he knows what has happened to me, that my fate has now been sealed. Could he rescue me?
I fully expect that later, when we are alone, Leonid’s mask will slip, and I will see the true monster that lurks beneath.
I am sure I will be punished for my harsh words, for daring to speak against him.
It was reckless and foolish, but I couldn’t stop myself.
I felt so thrown off to see Max standing there at the end of the aisle that I couldn’t prevent myself from lashing out against him at the first chance I got.
The first dance was even worse than the first kiss.
Though he was gentle, tender even, his touch felt like a brand on my skin as he took the brunt of my weight, lifting me almost off the floor as we danced to take the pressure off my leg, as if he knew how painful it was tonight.
I tried to tell myself that it was nothing more than him claiming what he believes he has a right to, what he now owns.
Despite this, my treacherous body still responded to his touch, hating the part of myself that yearned for more.
I’m disgusted by myself. By how broken I am.
Tossing the bouquet, something I’d been looking forward to doing to rid myself of those damn roses, was somehow even more ruined when Katerina, the young girl set to marry my father, caught it.
The fact that my father seems not only content but excited to marry a girl who is little more than a child and younger than his daughter is vile.
“Ready to go?” Leonid asks gently.
I simply nod. It’s all I have the energy for. I feel bone weary from exhaustion, my leg is throbbing, and all I want to do is crawl into bed. I try not to think about what he expects to happen tonight in that bed. If I do, I won’t be able to hold back my tears any longer.
I’m surprised as he leads me to the front door and opens it to reveal a car waiting for us. “We aren’t staying here?” I find myself asking, forgetting for a moment that I’m not talking to him.
“Not unless you want to?” he asks wryly, fully aware I want anything but.
I shake my head vehemently. The last thing I want to do is stay in this den of vipers.
“I have a beach house in Malibu that will be our home,” he explains.
My prison.
I don’t bother to reply. I simply allow him to open the car door for me and climb inside.
***
I stay silent the entire forty-five-minute journey, staring out the window. He doesn’t push me to talk or try to explain himself further. Whether because he doesn’t want the driver to overhear or because he knows it would be pointless, I don’t know or care. I’m just grateful for the quiet.
We pull up to a beautiful, modern beachfront property, yet it’s surprisingly small in comparison to his uncle’s house. Inside, it’s tastefully decorated with clean lines and modern yet cozy furnishings. I barely listen as Leonid gives me the tour.
As we head toward the bedrooms, my heart starts to hammer in my chest, and I feel panic clawing at my throat.
He points out the office and guest room first. There are just two doors left.
One of which is the room I’ll be expected to share with this stranger.
My husband. The word sends shivers down my spine, and not in a good way.
He’s going to want to have sex. He’s going to want us to consummate this doomed marriage.
The man I knew as Max was kind and patient with me, but will Leonid be?
Or was Max just a guise to test me? To see how pure I was or to try to claim me to make it harder for my father to back out of the arrangement? Will he take no for an answer?
The only man I ever desired was my watcher, but now I’m convinced that he’s not going to save me this time.
Leonid stops and clears his throat, seeming uncomfortable. Good. He should feel shitty for this.
“I had the other guest room set up as your room. I figured you wouldn’t want to share, that it would be too soon.”
His words catch me off guard, they’re so unexpected.
“So you’ll force me to be your wife, but you won’t force me to share your bed. Or do you still intend to force me to fuck you before going to your own bed for a peaceful night’s rest?” I snap.
He recoils slightly at the venom in my voice, but doesn’t waver as he takes a step closer, close enough that my breath hitches and I have to force myself not to step back, to show fear or weakness.
“Nora, I will never force you to do anything you don’t want to, I would never act without your consent.
But I won’t lie to you. I’ve made my intentions perfectly clear.
I want you. All of you. You can deny that you feel the same attraction and that you want this as much as I do.
I’m willing to wait, but one day you will be mine, totally and completely.
But only when you beg me will I fuck you,” he states confidently.
I don’t know how to respond, so I stay silent, contemplating what this means.
Part of me wants to tell him there’s no way I would ever trust him enough to sleep with him.
I wasn’t ready before and I certainly can’t imagine myself ever trusting him again enough to be intimate with him like that.
Yet something stops me. I can’t deny that the way he’s speaking excites me, perhaps more than Max ever has.
His words and commanding posture remind me more of my watcher than Max.
He hasn’t taken his eyes off me, and I feel hot under his gaze.
When I can no longer stand the proximity and the all too positive reactions it’s invoking in me, I move away, only fractionally but enough to break the spell.
The fire leaves his blue eyes, and he looks away, his attention returning to the task at hand.
“This is the room you’ll be sleeping in for now,” he says, reiterating the lack of permanence with our separate living quarters. I wonder how long it will take before he loses patience.
He opens the door to a beautifully decorated bedroom.
A large king-sized bed with a wooden frame and white linen canopy hanging above it dominates the space.
On either side are two bedside tables and lamps.
There are two doors, presumably the closet and bathroom, and a couple of comfortable-looking chairs and a table in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows that dominate the exterior wall, the duck-egg blue curtains drawn.
I hear the sound of a cat meowing seconds before I feel something brush against my legs. When I look down, it takes me a moment to register what I’m seeing.
“Josef!” I cry in delighted surprise, bending down to pick up my beloved cat and burying my face in his fur.
“All of your things from home have been packed away in here. Your books are in the office, and I added an extra bookcase for them,” Leonid explains before adding with a small smile at Josef, “He’s missed you.”
He softens and I’m reminded of the man I was fond of. The man I thought he was. The man that I could see myself loving if I wasn’t so messed up and obsessed with my faceless watcher.
“Thank you… Leonid.” I force myself to say his name, to show my gratefulness for this small mercy he has granted me.
It means more than he can know to have Josef here, and I’m not so foolish as to risk being ungrateful. Perhaps we can at least aim for a civil marriage, if not a happy one.
He inclines his head in acknowledgment. “Please, call me Leo.”
“Thank you, Leo,” I reply a little sharper than intended.
He nods again in understanding. “I’ll let you get some rest. The kitchens fully stocked, should you get hungry and wish to make yourself something since you didn’t eat much tonight. Or I could fix you a sandwich now,” he offers.
I shake my head, still unable to stomach the thought of food. “No, thank you. So I’m not confined to this room?” I ask cautiously.
He seems surprised by the suggestion. “No, of course not. This is your home.”
Home. As if it could be anything other than a prison. Despite how comfortable the cell is, I won’t kid myself into thinking I’d be free to leave. I nod in acknowledgment, and he waits for a moment, as if contemplating saying more.
“You look beautiful,” he blurts out. “I didn’t tell you earlier.”
My heart ices once more and I look him in the eye defiantly. “It was the same dress my mother wore on her wedding day. My father made me wear it as a punishment, to remind me of what he did to her, of what you can and will do to me,” I say accusingly.
Anger flashes across his features and I worry that I’ve gone too far before I realize it’s not me he’s angry at. “That bastard,” he mutters. “I didn’t know, didn’t think…” He falters for a moment, trying to find his words. “I will never hurt you, Nora,” he promises softly.
“You already have.” The words come out as barely a whisper, the fight gone from me again, and I resume my focus not to cry as the lump rises in my throat.
“I know. I know that’s how you see it and I will always regret that there wasn’t another way. I promise I’ll make it up to you, if you’ll let me,” he says gently.
I don’t know if he can. Or why he’d want to. I’m so drained and confused, I don’t have the energy to talk it out with him anymore.
“Alright then, I’ll leave you be. If you need anything, just let me know. Good night, Nora,” he says softly, longingly, and dare I say it, even lovingly before gently closing the door behind him.
I’m so confused and thrown off by the unexpected turn of events that I don’t know how to feel, or what to make of it. This was not how I anticipated things going. Is it just another manipulation? Or does he genuinely care about my well-being?
Josef wriggles free of my grip and pads around my feet, stretching and meowing. At least he seems happy and well taken care of. The worry of what happened to him has been eating at me since I was kidnapped.
I walk into the bathroom and tear off the dress and underwear.
My need to get out of my mother’s dress so great that I don’t even think about what might happen if Leo returns to find me standing here naked.
I try not to think about it as I turn on the shower, then pull out the hair extensions and remove my makeup while I wait for the water to get warm.
I take a long, hot shower as if I can magically wash away the events of the day.
When I feel a little more like myself, I step out and wrap one of the fluffy white towels around me.
After brushing my teeth and putting on my pajamas, their soft well-worn fabric soothing against the skin that I’ve scrubbed raw, I climb into bed.
Josef hops up beside me and I stroke him, finding comfort in his presence.
I glance at the window. The curtains are open, but I know there’s no watcher standing in the shadows. My mysterious protector has left me.
For some reason that makes me feel even more alone than ever.
As I reach to turn off the bedside lamp, I notice that the only photograph I have of my mother is in the frame. Her eyes are bright and full of hope. I look at her face, seeking solace but finding none.
Only now, alone in this strange room, do I finally allow the tears to fall.