15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

T oula

I grieved for the sister I remembered, not the shell that she had been. She was at peace, but Irini had left a tsunami-sized wave in her place, and it was about to crash.

The only way I could pretend to function was by burying myself in my work. I had done it before with no question, so this time didn’t seem any different. If I wasn’t at school, I was hiding in the club’s office, preferring to sleep on a couch. I only spent an hour at the compound every day to shower and change clothes. The memories were too much for me to handle in this fragile state. Irini’s sanctuary was on the same floor as my bedroom, and I had to run past the darkened door to make sure I didn’t break.

I wasn’t alright, and anyone who looked at me should have noticed. There were a few professors who had tried to ask, but I had told them I was fine and made a quick beeline out of the room. I was wallowing in my grief, but there was no one to commiserate with, even if I wanted to. The compound was worried about the Russian and his marriage contract. It was a viper’s den, filled with half-truths whispered in the hallways, and most of them had my name attached.

Arranged marriages had five years to produce a male heir. However, if the first child was a girl, the wife could ask for another five years to try again. It was purely a game of chance. My mother had never produced an heir, but my father had overlooked it. She’d given him four opportunities to expand his power, and that was worth more.

If a wife was childless at the end of five years, her husband could divorce her and send her back to her family. It would then be her husband’s responsibility to compensate her father for the time spent. Depending on the head of the household, the payment could be very expensive.

My father was a dick on a good day. He might not have known what was going on, but Irini would never have had a child. My father had likely seen dollar signs even before the ink on the wedding contract was dry. With her passing, the tide had turned. The Russian could demand anything he wanted from my father as compensation, including me. It was barbaric.

My father had tried this morning to ambush me in the foyer as I was running out the door. He had said that my behavior had gone on for too long, and I needed to be home for a family dinner. I’d begged off, telling him I had paperwork to process and payroll to work on for the club. I had given him the answers I knew would make him instantly back down. He’d been the one to tell me he couldn’t have a failing business run by his daughter, and if my documents weren’t in order, it would be like inviting the authorities in through the front door and handing them the win. The house of cards could never tumble from within.

After my last class had finished for the day, I walked in front of Angelo to the car my father had provided. The driver was waiting for me, and as I approached, he opened the passenger door. As he offered me his hand, I ignored it as I shoved my backpack across the seat and sat. My driver already had his instructions. If I wasn’t at school, then he was supposed to drive me to the club.

I watched out the window as the car made its way through my father’s territory. A right here. A left at the gas station. The monotony was comforting. Turning towards the window, I caught sight of the gates of the cemetery where Irini rested. It normally wasn’t on the route to the club, and I didn’t know if the driver had planned this or if it was something that had just happened. The urge to visit her for a few minutes was strong, and I leaned forward in my seat. “Turn into the cemetery.” I didn’t need to say anything else.

“It’s not safe,” Angelo sneered.

“It’s perfectly fine, and if you have such a problem with it, stay in the car and call my father. I’m sure he’ll love to hear that you’re afraid of a cemetery.” I rolled my eyes. Ever since Sophia had let it slip that Angelo wasn’t really protecting me, my patience had waned with him. “Do we have a problem?” I asked, pulling my phone out of my pocket in case I needed to call my father myself.

“Take her,” he directed the driver, staring at the phone in my hand. “If she gets hurt, that’s on her,” he muttered.

The driver made the left-hand turn, and I sat back in my chair. I had felt Irini’s forgiveness at the funeral, and I wondered if talking to her would help me move on. I was stuck, not living in the past, but going through the motions of the future.

Angelo typed something out on his phone, probably telling my father. “Do you want to say anything to the Russian before I send this?” he asked me.

“What?” My forehead scrunched in confusion .

Angelo chuckled. “Volkov’s been keeping tabs on you since the Italian wedding. You don’t shit without him knowing. If I’d used you as a backup, I would have protected my investment, too.” He turned in the front seat to look directly at me. “You didn’t actually think he wanted you for you? You’re a means to an end, princess.”

I bit the inside of my cheek, turning my head to face the passenger window. I cleared my mind, sliding my perfect poker face into place. They didn’t need a front-row seat to my pain. If I let any sign slip that I wasn’t alright, one of them would instantly call my father, while the other would tell one of the house guards. There would be parties in the bunkhouse as word got around. They had officially broken Toula. Fuck that. I wouldn’t yield.

The car pulled to a stop in front of the Greek section of the cemetery.

“Stay here. I’ll make sure that I’m in your line of sight.” I didn’t give Angelo any room to dispute my instructions as I exited the vehicle and headed straight for Irini’s headstone.

“Hey, sister,” I said to her. It was early spring, and the grass was slightly wet, but I didn’t care as I sat down. “I wish I’d thought to visit you like I used to do on Tuesdays. This trip is purely selfish on my part, but you’re the only one who would understand.”

The wind blew the blades of grass that surrounded her headstone.

“I hope you don’t mind. You’ve never turned me down before, but I wish you were here to actually respond.” I paused, pulling a few pieces of grass from the ground and twirling them in my fingers. “I love him, sister.” Tears welled up at the corner of my eyes. “He used me, scorching whatever is left of my heart.”

I stared at her name carved into the granite headstone. Irini Petrakis Volkov. Beloved Wife, Daughter, and Sister. “Beloved,” I whispered to her. “Every word, every action has been a lie.” I dropped the grass next to me, curling my knees into my chest. “He’s just like every other man. The Russian saw an opportunity, and I let him use our situation to line his own pockets.”

I wasn’t sure how late it was when I finally stood, dusting the grass off the seat of my jeans. As much as I wanted to curl up and stay forever, I couldn’t. My movements were being tracked, and it was only a matter of time before the Russian confronted me. He would have no issues doing it here, and I didn’t want him anywhere near Irini. I had believed him, and the betrayal had charred any remaining feelings I had for him. If we were going to fight, I wanted it to be in my territory. He wouldn’t have the upper hand standing in my club.

***

I t was nearing midnight when there was a knock on my office door. It wasn’t uncommon for my employees to approach me, so I thought nothing of it when I called out.

The door opened, revealing the last person I wished to see. I immediately stood from my office chair behind my desk. “Ilya,” I addressed him, proud that I hadn’t thrown insults at his face. He wouldn’t be able to spin me into his fancy web. I knew the truth, and there was no explanation necessary. The Russian had told me what I had needed to hear so that I would comply.

“Seriously, Toula? That’s how you greet me?” He cocked an eyebrow at me as he closed the door, the slide of the deadbolt echoing a decisive finale. This was going to be a battle of wits. He sat in one of the chairs in front of my desk and crossed his leg over his knee. Leveling me with a smoldering gaze that should have made me crumble, he asked, “What’s my name? ”

“Russian,” I whispered. I hadn’t known his name when we had first met, but even when he had made an appearance a year later, I’d still called him Russian. It was a nickname that had become a term of endearment. The first time I had used it in his presence, he’d stopped in the middle of the warehouse, flung his head back, and let his laughter echo through the rafters.

“Better,” he said. “We’ve done this dance before. There’s been change, and instead of facing it head-on, you’re hiding.”

I said nothing as I stood behind my desk, barely controlling my anger. I’d let him say whatever he wanted, and then I’d kick him out and go home. The compound was the last place I wanted to be, but the Russian wouldn’t be able to follow me without my father’s questioning.

“If I had waited the year for you to turn eighteen and Irini hadn’t been in trouble, would you have married me?”

I gripped the bottom of my desk, digging my fingers into the wood grain. I was trying to hold it together, but the shock knocked me off balance. “My feelings have never mattered. The undesirable status has never mattered. You’re here to claim me as a replacement, and if you don’t, my father will just sell me the minute I can’t produce. Nothing’s changed.”

He laughed at me. “Fuck this. You wield that title like it’s your fucking sword. Undesirables are women who have to be hidden because they’re a danger to our world. We stick them in businesses as maids, not owners,” he said, shifting in the chair and gripping his ankle over his knee. “You’re so busy trying to hide, you forget who you are.”

“I’m Toula Petrakis, the second daughter of the don. I know exactly who I am.”

“That might all be true, but I’ll always remind you of one thing. You. Are. Mine. Toula. ”

“Is that why you’re having Angelo track me?”

He rubbed at his bottom lip. The silence in the office was the only confirmation I needed.

“You only see me as a possession to own. I will never submit to a man.” Rage surged deep within my chest. I’d had enough of this. Walking around my desk to the office door, I flipped the deadbolt dramatically. I planned to throw him out, but when I ripped the door open, I came face-to-face with a hard chest in a blue dress shirt. “What are you doing here?” I asked Adrik. The blonde brute was blocking the door.

“Boss thought you might try to run. Guess he was right,” the blonde answered me with a shrug.

I screamed in frustration and slammed the door in his face. Turning, I pointed my finger at the Russian. “You need to leave. Now!”

“Are you done with this tantrum?” He shifted, watching me over his shoulder. “I’m not leaving until you admit you’re mine.”

“I’m tired of being a pawn in a man’s game. There are no rules for me to follow, and when I think I might be close to winning, it’s all swept out from underneath. You don’t get to walk in here and tell me what you think I want to hear when you’ve lied and manipulated from the beginning. It was never about being with me or protecting Irini. You used our pain to increase your social status. Good job.” I slowly clapped my hands.

The Russian stood up from his chair and strode over to me. I gave myself a few seconds to admire his grace and beauty. It had never escaped my notice that he was a very handsome man. Handsome, but dangerous. Not only to the outside world, but to my heart.

“Every time I think you’re going to give in to me, you dig in your heels. I must be a masochist because it only makes me harder for you,” he said, pinning me between his chest and the door .

He bent down so that we were touching from forehead to waist. I wanted to reach out and wrap my hands around his back. To grab him and hold him to me so that we would never be parted. Instead, I balled my hands into fists. Why is he playing with my emotions like this?

His hand slid beneath my eye, his thumb brushing the edge of my cheekbone with a tenderness that made me want to melt. “Even through the makeup, I can see the shadows.” He kissed his thumb and gently pressed it to the skin, as if his touch could erase the mark.

A beat passed between us. His thumb lingered warm against my skin while my fists slowly unclenched. I wanted to reach for him, to close the gap between us, but there was a barrier. My fingers clenched into fists again.

“Malenkaya lischka,” he murmured. “Forgive me. I thought keeping you safe was enough. I didn’t realize I was leaving pieces of you unguarded.” His eyes fell shut, and I could feel the weight of his regret in the way his thumb traced the dark blemish under my eye. “You’re mine, and I’ll always protect you, but you don’t need saving. I should have been taking care of you instead, making sure you had a safe place to just be.”

Tears pooled in the corners of my eyes. My hands clenched, and then unclenched. I wanted to believe him, but I couldn’t shake Angelo’s words.

He opened his eyes, staring into mine. “I have kept every promise I have ever made to you, and you’re running scared. I understand. No one’s ever done that for you before. But let’s get one thing straight. It has always been about you. These years have been about waiting for you. No one else…” He trailed off with a growl. “You’re angry because you want me, too.”

I didn’t think. I just moved, wrapping my arms around him and pulling him close. His warmth seeped into me, chasing away the lingering chill of doubt. Laying my head against his chest, I closed my eyes and let myself drown in the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

“Did you ever wonder why there weren’t any suitor dinners?” he asked. His arms tightened around me, and I tucked my head underneath his chin. “Don’t give me that undesirable shit.”

“No.” I had figured that the title was enough to keep them away.

“Seriously? You never wondered why they didn’t announce your arranged marriage?”

“No.” I had always thought they had left me alone because I was more useful for the family. It wasn’t until recently that my father had talked about failure and potential marriages.

“I won’t ask your forgiveness for this. Just know it was necessary.” His hand tilted my chin up. He sealed his lips to mine, kissing me with all the pent-up frustration of the last few years. It wasn’t the soft kiss of new love. It was hard and dominating as he reminded me who I belonged to. I had always been his first choice, even when I didn’t want to admit it.

“What did you do?” I whispered against his lips.

“I made a stipulation in my marriage contract. I was betting it wouldn’t last the five years, so I asked your father to keep you pure.” He scrunched his nose as if he smelled something sour. “Your father doesn’t have to pay retribution as long as you become my wife. He can save face among the other families. It’s a win for him.”

“What would you have done if it had lasted?” I asked.

“I assume I would have done what any sane brother-in-law would. It probably would have sparked a war when all of your prospects mysteriously disappeared, but I would have done it for you.”

I knew my father was a bastard, and my mother was just as ambitious. Did I really think that they would have abided by the rules? It had been four years since the Russian had barged into my life, and I ran through the memories, searching for any clue. There had been no prospect dinners. No parades of men. The Russian had saved me, and I’d been free to live my life.

All the guilty feelings and harbored jealousy slowly evaporated. I kissed him, parting his lips with my tongue. He melted against me, and I took more as his hand slid through my hair. “I lo—“ I tried to tell him as the kiss broke off.

“No. You need to admit to yourself first what you feel, and then you can tell me. I’m not going anywhere.”

“You’re infuriating!” I scoffed at him.

He just smiled at me. “Eh, it could be worse.”

I kissed him with everything that I had, but it wasn’t enough. I wanted him naked, his skin on mine. Pushing his suit coat off his shoulders, I heard it hit the floor a minute before his tie followed. I desired him, and my fingers worked quickly on the buttons of his dress shirt, not bothering to pull it from his pants. When I felt the zipper on the back of my dress lower, it was obvious he called for me, too.

He broke the kiss and lowered his mouth to my neck. The dress fell to my waist. Bending to give him more room, I felt him whisper against my throat. “Do you know why I couldn’t go through with it that night?”

I knew what night he was talking about. The night in the hotel room when I had expected him to take my virginity. More like I had offered it to him, only to be denied. “It doesn’t matter,” I said.

“It does. I knew that if we would have gone further, I’d never be able to walk away. You’re my obsession. I might be many things, but with one word, you could destroy me.”

I could feel the light kisses against my upper chest and collarbones. As I opened my mouth to tell him to just take me, there was a knock on the door .

He groaned against my skin as he grumbled, “For the love of God.”

I reached down and flipped the lock as he shifted me to crack the door. There was nothing visible to whomever was outside.

“What?” He was still grumpy, like a lion denied his steak dinner. I held him closer to me and curled into his chest.

“The authorities have raided the Italians.”

We both went cold. This was trouble.