Page 13 of Hateful Vows
“It says here we’re also helping you with men in case of an insurrection. What’s that about?” My future wife asks, and I sigh dramatically.
“Sign, and I’ll tell you.” I wink.
Her grimace of disgust is entertaining. She surely didn’t look like that last week when I caught her in the throes of passion with that amateur. Well, I should call it the throes of boredom considering how long the poor man stayed on his knees without making her come. Such a waste.
Irina flips off the page and makes annotations on the margins at a few sections. Then she signs and hands me the contract. Without looking away from her fierce brown eyes, I sign. I don’t really care what I agreed to, as long as I get to fuck with her and her brother.
“My father’s been assassinated. The youth of our organisation received an anonymous message to kill the king and get a reward. Capaldi hasn’t been able to trace it, yet. I will need help with the same thing you will be doing to the London Bratva.”
“And that is?” Irina asks, arms crossed over her body.
“Eliminate internal threats.”
She clicks her tongue before her lips purse. I don’t think she’s aware of her show of contentment. “I do love a good reaping.”
“And a goodbye party, you said?”
“What do you have in mind?”
“A funeral and a wedding. We are now officially married as of five seconds ago, and the world needs to know.”
My words come out more forceful than I care to admit. I’m not letting Irina Dobreva—now Irina Ventura—walk around town without my ring on her finger and my fucking name tattooed on her skin. It’s not in the contract but nothing a little drugging can’t fix. She won’t be happy. God, I hope she tries to kill me. The thought has me groaning as my cock hardens underneath my designer clothes.
A knock on the main door cuts us off and the maid directs my masseuse into the room located on the side of the living room.
“Who’s that?” Irina asks, bristling.
I take a step forward, lifting my index finger to caress her cheek but she smacks it away. The laugh that escapes my throat is mocking. “Jealous, already,cuore mio?”
“I don’t care who you fuck, as long as it isn’t me.”
“We’ll see about that, won’t we?”
“Plan the wedding,” Aleksei interrupts. “We’ll plan the funeral.”
Without another word, they’re both gone, the cat following after them.
The masseuse is kneading my back with force but still, I can’t relax. My guests’ perfumes linger in the air, fuelling my worst fantasies.
“Leave,” I order, clicking my tongue. She obeys and silence descends in my flat.
Lucie was here yesterday as I explained the situation we found ourselves in, but I still don’t enjoy marrying her off to someone she doesn’t know or want. I always thought I could keep her separate from that side of our lives. I call her and she answers on the first ring.
“So, when am I getting married,cugino?” She asks, the faint sound of a nail file grating my ears. How is she so relaxed about this?
“Probably next week. There are still moving parts on the Dobrev’s side.”
“Well, send me the contract so I can sign it, Dante. We need to file it as soon as possible.”
“How are you so nonchalant about it? Do you have a crush on Dobrev or something?”
She cackles, but I’m not joking. That’s the only explanation my brain can conjure up.
“Oh, you’re serious? Gosh no, I didn’t even know who he really was until a few days ago. Listen, I know you sent me to France to protect me but Dad—” My heart squeezes at how she calls her foster father ‘Dad’. It should have been my uncle. I can’t fault her for that. She was only twelve when her parents passed. I’m glad her foster family is important to her and treated her liketheirs. It doesn’t make the grief go away, though. “—always kept me in the loop. I knew I’d have to form an alliance with someone at some point. And Aleksei swore he’d never touch me, right? As far as I’m concerned, this marriage will be in name only. It’s not that big of a deal. It could have been worse.”
She moved back to London for this. Family and loyalty has always been in my blood, but now more than ever I feel like she needs to be happy even as I dealt her this shitty marriage. I’m indebted to her, and I’ll never forget it.
When we hang up, I make my way to my bathroom, naked as the day I was born, and turn the water temperature to scalding. I hiss as the water pelts my skin. I’ve barely closed my eyes when my brain conjures both of them.
