Chapter 7

TORI

I ring my hands together and force myself to stare directly ahead as Marshall drives away from the manor. It felt like a good idea, as going to Dmitry for relief is what I’ve been doing to stop the worst from happening. Risking losing it again and cutting too deep will see me sectioned for sure, and that decision won’t even fall to Dmitry.

Tears prick my eyes, and I try desperately to blink them away. I am so fucking tired of crying and so sick of my entire head being full of him. “You wanna talk about it?” asks Marshall.

“I saw Vivian today.”

His eyes meet mine in the mirror, and I see the panic in them. “What?”

“You heard. She was in the shop.”

“Fuck, Victoria,” he hisses, “why didn’t you tell me that? Did she see you? Does Dmitry know?”

He pulls over and grabs his phone. “What are you doing?” I ask.

“Calling Dmitry, what do you think?”

“No,” I snap, unbuckling my seatbelt and leaning over to grab the phone. “Please, just stop.”

“Tori,” he whispers, his tone pleading, “he’ll want to know.”

“She wasn’t there because of me,” I tell him. “She was just as shocked to see me.”

“So, she saw you. Did she speak to you?”

“Yes.”

“Fuck,” he mutters, letting his head fall back against the head rest. “Do you know what Dmitry will do when he finds out she was within speaking distance to you and I wasn’t between you pointing a fucking gun at her head?”

“Then don’t tell him.”

“I can’t keep shit like that from him,” he argues.

“Sometimes, Marshall, you have to pick a side. This is one of those times.”

His eyes reach mine in the mirror again. “Don’t do that. Don’t make me pick which one of you I’d die for, because the answer is both.”

I almost smile. “Nothing bad happened,” I whisper. “And if it makes it easier, tell him you didn’t know. Tell him I was being difficult and refused to let you in the place. Whatever you want that’ll get you out of trouble. But don’t tell him about Vivian.”

“Why?”

I shrug. “Because she doesn’t deserve any more airtime. It doesn’t look like she’s going anywhere anytime soon, does it, so I have to get used to seeing her around.”

My phone rings and I hand Marshall’s back to him before clipping my seatbelt back into place and answering my phone. “Hello?”

“Ms. Harding? It’s Lucinda from Stiletto Scene. We’d like to offer you the position of store assistant.”

I inwardly groan. Vivian knew I was there for a job and she might come back and check. “Actually,” I say with a sigh, “I just accepted another from an interview I had yesterday,” I lie. “But thank you so much. I really appreciate your time.” I disconnect.

“You got the job?” asks Marshall sadly.

“Yep, and Vivian strikes again.”

I’ve been home for less than an hour when I hear Marshall at the door with what sounds like an irate Dmitry. I sit up on my bed and listen, recognising the hushed whispers. I pull on a shirt and wrap it around myself before going into the living room. Marshall spins to face me, almost looking apologetic. “Did we wake you?” he asks.

“I couldn’t sleep,” I mutter, staring at Dmitry. “What do you want?”

He arches a brow, and his chest heaves in that way it does when he’s angry but doesn’t want to lose his shit. Sometimes, I wish he would, just so I could see how he really feels. “You just left,” he says, still sounding shocked.

“So?”

“So?” he repeats, and his eyes narrow as his fists clench into balls.

“Marshall, could you give us a minute?” I ask politely.

“I said I’d get Phoebe from work,” he replies, looking relieved as he grabs his car keys. “Take it easy, boss, yeah?” he suggests, looking Dmitry in the eye before slapping him on the shoulder and leaving.

Dmitry stares after him. “I pay him to watch you, and now, he thinks he can stand between us.”

“Maybe he recognises it the same as I do,” I mutter, folding my arms across my chest. “That it’s you I need protecting from.”

He glares for a second, his chest still heaving with anger. “You used me today,” he says, and for a second, I feel a tug on my heart.

“Not true,” I mutter, staring at the floor. “You said I could come to you when I had the urge, so I did.”

“Will that agreement stay in place if we never get back together?” he asks, and my head whips up. I hadn’t thought of that. “Will I always take you into the dungeon to squash the urges you have to self-destruct?” He sounds pissed, and I press my lips together in a fine line. “Will I be expected to never move on so I can be at your beck and call to use whenever you feel like it?” Bitterness laces his words.

“You’re thinking of moving on?” I ask, trying to sound unaffected.

“Isn’t that what you want?” he spits, taking a step closer. “To move on? That’s what you said. You want to find a man who can love you for all the crazy,” he repeats my earlier words like they leave a bad taste in his mouth. “Will he be able to chase the urges away, Victoria?” He’s standing so close now, I feel the warmth of his breath as it brushes past my cheek.

“I’m trying to get through one day at a time right now,” I mutter. “I haven’t thought about the future.”

“Because I think,” he says, taking a stray piece of my hair and wrapping it around his finger, “that you need someone who can keep you grounded, Victoria. Someone who can tame the crazy and put it to good use.”

“I think you should leave,” I mutter.

His hand pushes into my hair, taking a handful and tipping my head back to look at him. “I miss you,” he says, gently rubbing his nose along my jawline. I close my eyes, my willpower melting away. “I miss your smart mouth.” He places a light kiss to the side of my lips. “Please, Victoria, forgive me.”

“You need to leave now,” I say, taking a deep breath and moving from his touch. His hands fall to his sides, and he stares at the ground. “Marshall promised me you wouldn’t come here. He said this would be a safe space from you and Vivian and all the other shit that you bring.”

He gives a slight nod, still not meeting my eyes as he turns to leave. He gets to the door and rests his hand against it. “I love you,” he mutters, pulling it open and leaving.

Ten minutes later, Phoebe comes in. “Marshall said Dmitry was here?” she asks, dropping her bag and rushing to kneel before me on the couch.

“So much for this being a safe place. Only when it suits him, right?” I mutter.

“We can leave if it makes you feel better,” she offers, but I know she loves this place, and we are safe here. I give my head a shake, and she smiles in relief. She crawls to the space next to me, kicking off her shoes and tucking her feet under her backside. “He also said you saw that witch today?” she asks, tucking my hair behind my ear.

I let my head flop back and stare at the ceiling. “It wasn’t as bad as I imagined it to be,” I admit. “I thought I’d either break down in panic or . . . kill her.”

“It’s what she deserves,” she mutters.

“Maybe it’s good that I saw her,” I say with a shrug. “I’m terrified every time I walk outside that I’ll see them, and now I have, and the worst didn’t happen.”

“You’ve seen Vivian. Vladimir is a whole different ball game,” she points out.

“But surely, it’ll get easier with time. Today, Vivian, another day, Vladimir. And they have no reason to come after me now. They don’t know I’ve told Dmitry about them, and I’m not with him anymore.”

“Two very important things,” she says, sitting upright. “First, you’re having his baby, and they know that. Second, Dmitry isn’t giving up on you. He wants you back, and I can’t see that stopping anytime soon. The second he sees you with his baby, he’s going to make you forgive him.”

“You think I have no willpower?” I accuse.

“I know you don’t,” she says with a smirk, “but I’m here for the grovel. Hell, I love that you’re making him work for it. But let’s not pretend it’s over, Tori. We both know it isn’t.”

I groan, nudging her with my shoulder. “You’re meant to be the sensible one here.”

“Well, maybe I’ve realised that being sensible isn’t always all it’s cracked up to be. And it doesn’t suit you either, Tori.”

“What do you mean?”

“You,” she says with a sigh. “You’re giving up on what you want because those fuckers think you’re not good enough.”

“They wanted to kill me,” I remind her.

“The old Tori wouldn’t have taken their shit.”

I frown. “I haven’t changed.”

“So, why are you sitting here letting them dictate your life?” A smile forms on her face. “If you want to piss them off?—”

“I don’t,” I cut in.

“The only way to stop all this worrying is to face them, no?”

“Definitely not,” I say firmly. “Marshall would go mad if he could hear you now.”

She laughs. “He’s outside talking to Dmitry on the phone. Apparently, there’s some gala event he’s got to go to.”

I picture Dmitry in his suit and smile. I love him in a suit. “He hates those things,” I mutter.

“I know what would make it better,” she says. “If he had a date.”

“Have you heard yourself?” I demand. “This isn’t like you at all. You didn’t like Dmitry, remember?”

“I’m not saying get back with him if that’s not what you want. But don’t hide away. Who the fuck are they to tell you to stay away from him? You’re having his baby. Make them see you’re strong.”

“And if they kill me?”

She smirks. “They wouldn’t dare.”

Marshall comes in looking at his phone. When he senses us both staring at him, he looks up. “What?”

“Tori wants to go with Dmitry this evening,” Phoebe tells him.

“No,” he says bluntly.

And at the same time, I say, “No, I don’t.” Even though I think it’s a crazy idea, I’m immediately annoyed that he dismissed the idea without hearing her out. “It’s not up to you,” I add with a frown.

“But you just said you don’t want to go,” he argues.

“Because I don’t want to, but you can’t say that I can’t go,” I yell.

“Here we fucking go again,” he mutters. “Tori’s crazy train is on the go.”

My eyes widen. “Actually, it wasn’t my idea.”

He glares at Phoebe. “You’re the sensible one.”

“I’m so sick of hearing that lately,” she snaps. “We’re all going to this damn gala tonight so Tori can face those fuckers and move on. I don’t want to hear another word about it.”

DMITRY

I cover my ear and press my phone to the other. It’s loud in here, and I’m certain I misheard Marshall. “I know you didn’t just tell me Victoria is coming here,” I snap.

“Boss, I’ve tried to talk sense into her, but you know what she’s like. The more I protest, the more she insists.”

I glance around the room. “Well, let her come. I don’t think my father will be here anyway, and I can handle Vivian.”

“Should I bring extra men just in case?”

“Of course,” I reply. “Double our normal amount.”

I disconnect and begin to move around the room, searching the crowds for Vivian. Maybe I can get rid of her before Victoria arrives.

It’s another hour before Marshall texts me to say they have arrived. I’ve had no luck finding Vivian, so I can only hope she didn’t bother to attend.

I stride towards the entrance, and the second I spot her, my breath catches in my throat. She looks stunning in a navy-blue floor-length gown and her hair pinned neatly up. She sees me too, and for a second, I think she’ll smile, but she turns it to a frown as she stops before me. “Marshall’s brought half of London’s kill team. Is that necessary?” she demands, arching a brow.

“If it keeps you safe, my krasota , then yes, it is necessary.” I hold out a hand for her to take, and she stares at it before passing me and heading into the room.

I sigh, and Phoebe gives me a sympathetic look. “Just give her time.”

Marshall passes us to follow Victoria, so I slow my pace, my curiosity getting the better of me. “Why didn’t you stop her coming tonight?” I ask.

She smiles. “It was my idea, and if you dare say I’m supposed to be sensible, I’ll steal that man’s gun and shoot you,” she says, nodding to one of the men trailing us.

I smirk. “Why did you want her to come?”

Her smile fades. “Because she’s a wreck, Dmitry. She can’t go out without worrying she’ll see those fuckwits. So, she just needs to pull the plaster off, and what better way to do that than in a roomful of people with you by her side?”

“I hate to break it to you, but they’re not here this evening,” I say, turning to the sound of my name being called.

“Dmitry.” I groan when my father heads over with Vivian hanging off his arm like a damn trophy.

I lean into Phoebe. “Go and inform Marshall. Now.” And she rushes off as I turn my charm dial up and smile wide. “Father, Vivian. Should I start to call you ‘stepmother’?” I quip a brow, and Vivian narrows her eyes.

“Your father is being a great support to me,” she snaps.

I smell her scent before I see her. It’s only when she slips her arm through mine that I stiffen, noting my father’s face turning to stone. “Dmitry, are we going in? Oh, sorry, I didn’t see you there,” says Victoria.

There’re a few silent seconds while we all process what’s going on. I clear my throat and force another smile. “Father, Vivian, you remember Victoria?”

“Victoria,” my father repeats, his eyes still fixed on her and his complexion paling by the second. I noticed when he arrived there were only two men tailing him, and I’m sure right now, he’s wondering if Victoria will out him. “Are you . . . well?”

“Yes,” she replies bluntly.

“Dmitry, we should talk,” he adds.

“No,” says Victoria, grasping my arm a little tighter. “Business can wait until tomorrow.”

My father’s eyes widen, and he brings them to me, waiting for me to shut her down. Instead, I nod. “Victoria is right—it can wait.”

“I was under the impression you two were not together anymore,” says Vivian, her eyes narrowed on Victoria. “Earlier, you said I was welcome to him.”

“Earlier?” I repeat, looking at Victoria for an explanation.

“When she was interviewing for a job in a store. Why is that, if you’re still together?” she asks, arching her brows.

“You saw Vivian today?” I ask, wondering why I’m only just finding out about this now.

“It really wasn’t important. Let’s go,” hisses Victoria, turning and pulling on my arm.

“So, are you together or not?” Vivian asks.

“That’s none of your business,” I mutter, pissed that I look like a fool in front of them.

“Like her being out without your guard dog is none of yours?” she quips.

Victoria turns back to face them, and I brace myself for what I know will be an unleash of craziness. “No,” she says calmly, “we’re not back together. Yet.” My heart leaps at that one word of hope. “But Dmitry is right, it’s none of your business.”

“I think you’ll find it is mine,” my father snaps.

Victoria turns to him, and I see a range of emotions pass over her face—sadness, hurt, panic—and I itch to put him to the ground so I can never witness it again. “You might think you own him, but I’m here to tell you that you don’t.”

“Are you going to let her speak to me like that, Dmitry?” he spits.

“You should know,” Victoria continues, “we’re having a baby.” He does well to act like he didn’t know. Vivian stares at the floor. “You’re going to be a grandpa.”

He squares his shoulders and juts his chin. “You’re having a child out of wedlock?” he asks me.

“We’re doing shit my way these days,” Victoria tells him. “So, get used to it.” Then she turns, grabs my hand, and leads me away.

The second we’re out of their eyeline, she drops my hand. “Fuck, that felt good,” she says with a grin.

“Did you mean any of that back there?” I ask.

“Don’t push me,” she mutters. “I meant what I said to your father. I’m doing things my way, and you need to respect that.”