Page 69 of His Darkest Obsession
From the corner of my eye, I catch Valentina shooting daggers at me with her cold gray eyes as she kneels down by Vassily and cradles his bloodied face, whispering words that nobody else can hear.
Instead of feeling the warmth from Anatoly’s gentle touch, all I can think about is what she said about Anatoly having a real fiancée. A girl that deserves him.
And the moment I think about that, I feel anger and jealousy warring for control in my heart.
Anger at the fact that he didn't tell me. And jealousy at the thought that she might still be the one that'll get to have him.
“Printsessa.” Anatoly traces the marks on my face and calls my attention back to him. “Did she do this to you?”
And even though I know that I shouldn’t, I nod.
His eyes freeze over, and he presses a soft gentle kiss on my forehead as he draws the jacket tighter around me.
Then, he turns to face his family, and all the warmth he’s shown to me disappears from his face.
“Get out.” His voice is terrifyingly calm, despite the tension I can see in his shoulders. “All of you.”
“Excuse me?” Valentina seems aghast as she stands up, one hand still caressing Vassily’s bloody cheek. “What did you say to me, Tolya?”
He draws himself up to his full height and steps into her space, forcing her to retreat. He doesn’t stop until her heel slips just a little in the smear of blood that Vassily left on the ground.
“You dare to come into my house, insult my wife, andhurther.” He can’t hold back the anger seeping into his rising voice. “I want all of you out! Now!”
“Look what you did to my Vasya!” Valentina’s voice shakes with disbelief. “You would choose this whore over your own family?”
“She is my wife!” he roars. “She wears my ring. She will bear our name. She will represent our bratva to the world. And you will show her the respect that her title demands, or you will have no seat at my table, no place in this bratva, and nowhere inthe world where you will be safe! Is that understood, Valentina Ivanovna?”
“You impudent brat!” Her hand rises again.
Anatoly clenches her wrist in his own hand and squeezes until she winces.
“If you touch me like that again.” His voice turns into ice. “If you touch my wife like that again.” He turns and looks at me, and at the indentations on my face before he turns back to her. “And if I hear you call her a whore like that again, I will kill you where you stand.”
“I am your mother!”
“And I am your pakhan, Valentina Ivanovna.” He shakes her wrist. “Never forget that.”
She stares back at him but says nothing back. For the first time, I see a crack in her prefect composure.
“Very well, Anatoly Stepanovich,” she finally says. “I will obey your words. But I wish to give you a warning.”
“I suggest you choose your words very carefully.”
“The Volkovs will hear about this, and Taras Volkov will not be happy to know who you have chosen in place of his daughter. You have brought an outsider into our walls, and therewillbe a day when she will come to hate you, as every pakhan’s wife comes to hate her husband.”
Anatoly stands perfectly still, his hand still tight around his mother’s wrist.
“I pray for your sake, and for our bratva’s sake,” she continues. “That when that day comes, she will not lead to the ruin of our bratva.”
“Your concern has been noted, Valentina Ivanovna,” he replies as he releases her wrist. “Now get the fuck out.”
Valentina inclines her proud head slightly to acknowledge his command, and then turns around to leave. Her shoulders remain impossibly straight, and the muscles in her jaw are clenched so tight that I'm surprised her teeth haven’t cracked. She doesn't even bother looking back at me or at what she’s done to me.
And if I’m being honest, I’m fine with that. I hope I never have to see her again, or even be in the same room as her.
Vassily picks himself up from the floor, his movement unsteady as another few errant drops fall from his face. He steals a glance at me, but then shrivels back when he sees Anatoly glaring at him.
Roma is the last to leave. Unlike the other two, there's no hostility in his expression. Only a soft and quiet resignation.
