Page 47 of The Watcher's Bride

I head inside, and with each step, I whisper a quiet vow to myself.

I will make her mine. I will protect her from this. From him. From all of it.

Chapter 29

Nora

The ceremony is held at the church nearby, the one my father made me visit every week. The irony isn’t lost on me that, despite having committed pretty much every sin the Bible forbids, my father considers himself a good Catholic. His status as a God-fearing man within the community does wonders to protect him from being judged too harshly by the public. He’s the kind of man that when, if, he was finally forced to pay for his crimes, his neighbors would claim seemed so nice and normal.

On the short drive over, I’ve concluded that they cannot force me to say the words at the altar or to sign the marriage certificate. Even if they have a gun to my head, I’d rather die. My father left me in the hands of Eogan, and I wonder if there’ll be a chance for me to escape when I leave the vehicle.

It seems my father anticipated that fact too, as he’s waiting for me outside the church as we pull into the parking lot.

“Norelle, I have something to show you. A little motivation to make sure you behave yourself and don’t get any silly ideas,” my father says as I step out of the car. He pulls out his phone and silently hands it over, allowing me to see what’s playing on the screen.

My blood turns to ice when I realize what I’m looking at. It’s the inside of Nadya’s apartment. Seemingly unaware that her apartment has been bugged and that there’s a camera watchingher every move, Nadya is watching one of the trashy reality shows she loves.

It’s been almost a week, what must Nadya think has happened to me? I never go this long without getting in contact. I can only assume my father has my phone and that whatever lies he concocted about my whereabouts must be sufficient to fool even my best friend.

“As you can see, I know all about your little friend,” Father taunts. I never should have even considered for a second he wouldn’t know every single person in my life.

My mind flicks to Max. Would he notice that I’m missing? Or would he just assume I was trying to avoid him again? I hold the secret to my chest, there’s also another person my father surely doesn’t know about, though, my watcher. The tiniest glimmer of hope that he’ll somehow find me and whisk me away flickers in my heart.

“If this wedding does not go off without a hitch, if you so much as think about refusing to say your vows or sign the wedding certificate, I have a man who will take great pleasure in killing your friend. Trust me, it will not be quick or painless. If I sense any hesitation, I will prove to you how serious I am.”

“You’re a monster,” I hiss at him, knowing that he’s outmaneuvered me yet again.

I won’t risk Nadya’s life, and my father doesn’t bluff. It’s part of the reason why I avoided making friends when I was living under his roof. He would always exploit them, use them against me. I thought I’d been careful with Ms. Miller, but now I know I’d brought death upon her, and her brother.

“I was very generous by not bringing her here. I allowed her to remain blissfully ignorant, and she can continue to be so as long as you behave.” He shrugs. “I suppose it would have been nice for you to have a maid of honor, but she’s no maiden, is she? Couldn’t risk your husband-to-be assuming you’re guilty by association, befriending whores. He and his family need to know that you’re still my good, pure girl who will be an obedient wife.”

He doesn’t know if I’m still a virgin or not. Not for certain. He can’t have watched me every moment of every day for three years. If he had, he’d already have mentioned Max and my watcher, Mike too. All of my encounters with them, even Mike’s attack, would be considered unacceptable to him. Stains on my purity that could jeopardize this marriage and this alliance. Nadya’s life is not only hanging in the balance now, so that the marriage goes ahead without a hitch, it will remain so for the entirety of this unholy alliance. His meaning is clear. If I am in any way unpure, I can’t let anyone know.

Father looks at me expectantly and I realize he is awaiting an answer, he wants to know so that he can prepare for any potential fallout should the wedding night not go as planned. I won’t let myself think about that. If this man I’m to marry is the monster I believe he is, I doubt a little thing like whether or not I actually want to consummate the marriage will stand in his way.

“I am still a virgin. I will do my duty. Just please don’t hurt my friend. Don’t hurt any of the people I knew in New York. Nadya was my only friend. No one knows anything about me, about who I really am. They’re innocent and they won’t miss me, no one will come looking for me, or question whatever story you’ve told to explain why I left,” I try to keep the pleading tone out of my voice, but from the satisfied gleam in my father’s eye I know I have failed.

“Good. I’m glad we have an understanding. Your little friend Nadya and any of the creatures you encountered in your pathetic life there will remain unharmed as long as you behave and act like the good wife I raised you to be. I assume it goes without saying that should you try to end your torment in any way, that will void our agreement,” he adds pointedly.

No escape, not even through death. I hold my chin up high, forcing myself to meet his gaze, to be brave. “Understood. Let’s get this over with.”

My father takes my arm, ready to lead me down the aisle, and I bite back the revulsion. My skin crawls under his touch. I hope this alliance will not mean I am expected to spend much time in my father’s company. I’d rather be locked away in an ivory tower than have to play the doting daughter.

Like the bouquet of thornless white roses my father handed to me before entering, the rest of the church is decorated with hundreds of roses. It would be beautiful if it wasn’t yet another small torture from my father, designed to hurt me. White roses were my mother’s favorite, or so he used to tell me, but their smell reminds me only of death. There were so many at her funeral, so many in our house forever after that until I couldn’t stand the smell. I try to hold my breath and focus on something else as we walk down the aisle.

Only a couple dozen people are present, unusual for a mafia wedding, but no doubt just in case I decide to do anything stupid or disgraceful. Only the most trusted and closest family members are present. Their eyes turn to me as we enter. Some of the faces I recognize on our side. The groom’s side is unfamiliar.

I focus on my steps, keeping my gaze resolutely on the floor, my cheeks aflame with each awkward step. Being coopedup and starved has left me stiff, weak, and my limp is more pronounced than it has been in years. That’s exactly what my father wanted. It’s a power play against the Belyhs as well as another way to torture me. He does nothing to support me with the arm I am forced to hold, and I’m so disgusted by the physical contact that I do my best to avoid it, practically hovering my hand above his.

Even when I stumble slightly, I refuse to lean on him. I glance up and my eyes land on the face of a man I recognize as Dimitri Belyh, the revulsion in his face clear. It breaks me. Even this ugly old man is revolted by me, relieved that he had a lucky escape from being forced to marry me. What will his handsome, young nephew think? I’d tried to convince myself that perhaps I could win his affection, salvage a marriage that may be loveless but at least not cruel. But any hope I had that I could somehow have a happy life, however small, is extinguished by that look. I close my eyes, willing the tears that sting in the corners not to fall. I will not let them see me cry. I will hold onto that at the very least.

Finally, we’re almost at the end of the altar. The groom is tall and broad. Something about his posture reminds me of someone, and as I’m struggling to figure out when I could have met him, who I remember from my former life, he turns around.

Disbelief and utter betrayal flood me.

How is this possible?

I know the man who I am about to marry. But I don’t know him as Leonid Belyh. I know him as someone else entirely.

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