Chapter 3

Three

Taking Nikita back to her apartment last night was interesting. I thought she would yell and scream at me. Throw things or scratch me like she did when we got to the warehouse. I thought she would show me the same fight as before, but I was wrong.

Instead, she froze me out. Complete ice princess. Not a single hint of emotion to be detected anywhere. It was as if a mask slipped into place and she was no longer the wild cat that had stabbed me with a screwdriver.

Now I'm marrying this woman. How did I get here?

"Are you sure you want to do this? It's not too late to back out," Tristano tells me as he gets fitted for his tux.

Out of all the people in the world, somehow this Italian fucker decided we were best friends. I'd like to say I hate it, but honestly, he was my first call after the shitshow with Haruaki. Callum might be my friend, but he's also my boss. There are boundaries there I cannot cross, nor would I want to. Tris is more than that. He's a friend and almost like a brother. Who knew that spending months living with the annoying bastard would bond us?

So after discussing it with Callum, I called and asked Tris to be my best man. The asshole chartered a plane the next morning because he had to know why I was getting married and what the rush was. Especially since I refused to tell him over the phone.

Once he arrived, he bombarded me. He is like a damn golden retriever always bouncing around. Or maybe a toddler when you answer their question and they keep asking why over and over again. I never planned to keep it a secret, but I like to annoy him, so I let him beg for a while before I finally broke down.

After I told him the whole story, he was shocked. Arranged marriages in our world are common, but he never thought I'd be one to fall into one. I have always been adamant that I never wanted to marry. Only one-night stands for me, but even those have been few and far between since I took over as Callum's second in command. I have too much shit going on to risk it all for some pussy. Then I took over Nikita's care, and that started my celibacy. Not because of her. Well, not because I wanted her, but because she's a goddamn handful to keep track of. She acts all demure and submissive, but she's got a wild side hiding inside of her, and when it comes out, she wreaks havoc.

"If I don't marry her, Haruaki will send her back to Russia," I mumble.

"I still don't see why that is such a big deal."

I shake my head. "You didn't hear her. She would rather eat a bullet than go back there. I don't know what they did to her there, but she won't go back. This was the only option to keep her breathing and relatively safe."

The tailor finishes with him, so he comes to sit next to me on the couch set up for customers.

"Tell me the truth. You didn't like the idea of her leaving," Tris teases.

I won't admit it to him or to anyone else, but I don't like the idea of not knowing where she is or what she's doing. She's been my responsibility for a year now. Having her out of my reach makes me anxious. That's what scares me about all of this. The need to have some semblance of control over her. It reminds me of my father. I hate it.

"She's a responsibility, Tris," I tell him without emotion.

"A sexy responsibility. I imagine her going all femme fatale. Damn, she would make a great assassin," he muses.

I growl at him. "Wouldn't your woman be a little upset about you talking about Nikita that way?"

He shrugs. "She would probably agree. Just like she agrees that if we ever got Jessica Parker Kennedy into a bedroom and she was willing, we would both fuck her with no jealousy."

"She actually said that?" I quirk a brow.

He nods. "Yep. After I agreed that we would also be the bread in a Jason Momoa sandwich. You should ask Nikita who her celeb crush is."

I shake my head. "Absolutely not. What the fuck is wrong with you? Maybe you should go back to New York."

"Nope. You asked me to be your best man, and there's no take backsies. So you're stuck with me." The smile on his face is wide.

He's enjoying this a little too much. I knew I should've just picked a random foot soldier as a best man. I couldn't, though. I don't plan to ever divorce, so that means this is my only wedding. As much as I didn't want it, I feel a little sense of sentimentality over it. I want to do it right.

"Fucking smite me now, Lord. It would be kinder than this torture," I groan as I stare at the ceiling.

"Enough of that. You're being a pussy. Now have you gotten rings yet? I have a few ideas," Tris says.

"Rings? Fuck, I haven't even thought about the actual wedding yet. I don't understand why we couldn't get married quietly at the courthouse."

That was my first choice. Just me, Nikita, Autumn, and Callum at the courthouse. Small and intimate, but also less personal. Less likely for us to get attached.

Tris tilts his head. "Why didn't you do that?"

I rub my hand down my face. "Haruaki demanded a big public wedding. He wants it to be a fuck you to her father. Especially since she's willing."

I go to stand and wince a little as the stitches pull from my shoulder.

"What's wrong with you?" Tris asks.

"I was stabbed. Not a big deal." I huff as I start to make my way out of the shop.

Looks like we have to go to a fucking jewelry store next.

Tris pulls on my arm before I can exit the building. His face has lost all humor.

"Who the fuck stabbed you? Tell me they are dead. If not, I want their name. No one stabs my best friend and gets away with it."

It's quite amusing to see how quickly my golden retriever best friend is replaced with a ruthless killer. He means every word of what he just said. He would murder a whole village for anyone he loves, and somehow that extends to me.

Too bad for him, this time I won't let him murder the culprit.

I snort. "It was Nikita. You really going to kill my fiancée? Think that defeats the whole purpose of this wedding, don't you think?"

The ruthless killer vibe melts into one of humor. "Bro, why didn't you tell me it was foreplay? Damn, you are one kinky fucker. I always knew it. Femme fatale. Do you think you can get her to dress up in black spandex?"

His eyes light up like he's imagining it now. It makes a pang of jealousy hit inside me. Only because she's mine now, not because I actually like her. I have never been good at sharing my toys.

I punch his chest. "Shut up, fucker. Let's get to the jewelry store and get home. All this shit is giving me hives."

He follows me out but keeps running his mouth. "You know hives due to getting married isn't a good sign, bro. Might be getting cold feet after all. I'll make sure to have the getaway car ready at the church."

"Tris, I'm not backing out. If I do, she either dies or faces something so bad she would prefer death. Let it rest."

"I'm just doing my duties here as your best man. Oooh, do I get to throw a bachelor party?"

"No." I pull open the door to the jewelry shop.

A young woman behind the counter smiles as she makes her way to us. Tristano is oblivious to it all.

"Oh, come on. I wouldn't hire some low-class strippers to show you their coochies. We would do it classier. Drinks at a high-class bar or some shit. Oooh, we could shoot something. I know how much you love your Glock."

The girl's eyes widen in surprise.

"Ignore him. He's a Neanderthal. You would think he's single with how much of an idiot he is, but surprisingly, he found the one woman on the planet willing to put up with his bullshit."

"Oh. Sorry, darling. My buddy here is getting married." He slaps my back. "Just trying to make sure it's the best experience possible for him, you know? No sleazy strippers for my guy. He already has him a dime piece. I mean, she may very well slit his throat in his sleep, but she's hot as fuck."

"Shut the fuck up," I tell him, cutting off whatever else he might say.

As it is, the girl looks scared to death.

"What?" Tris looks at me all innocent.

The guy blurts out whatever he wants most of the time. I don't know how he ended up being well-loved within his family. In ours, he would be a liability. Only I know that's not true. He would never blab about anything important. That and his mouth comes in handy sometimes. Just not today.

"The girl doesn't need to know that." I turn to her. "Sorry about that. We need a wedding ring set. One for my fiancée and one for myself."

She nods, hurrying back behind the counter. I shoot Tris a look. He shrugs and walks over to the girl.

"We have many options. Did you have an idea?" The woman asks, not meeting our eyes.

I go to speak, but Tris cuts in.

"Nikita is a classy lady. Total femme fatale, you know. I was thinking something more classic-looking with a garnet or ruby or something."

I roll my eyes at him but let him take the lead. What does it even matter? She probably won't wear it anyway.

"We have a collection of garnet and ruby rings." She pulls out two trays full of rings.

All of them sparkle and shine. My chest grows tight. I never wanted to get married. Yet here I am.

You won't be like him,I remind myself.

"What about this one, D?" Tris holds up a flashy ring that would look all wrong on Nikita.

"Dude, that is gaudy as fuck." I snort.

He shrugs, putting the ring back down.

I glance at them a little closer before I see it. It's the perfect ring for Nikita. I don't know how I know that, but I can picture it on her finger. Something possessive flares up in me at the thought.

She will be wearing my ring. She will be mine.

I pick it up and examine it. It's a two-piece band. The outside is like a casing for the inside ring with two peaks to surround the main gem. Then the main gem is a diamond-shaped garnet set perfectly in the middle. The white gold color contrasts with the red of the gem so perfectly. A series of black diamonds surround the outside band making it sparkle and shine.

"This one," I tell the girl.

"This is a ring from the nineteen seventies. It's a 1.25-carat garnet surrounded by authentic black diamonds. The price tag on this one is twenty thousand six hundred." She holds her hand out for the ring.

"I'll take it. Do you have any men's bands?" I ask.

"Oh, I have the perfect one that will match this."

We wait as she boxes up Nikita's ring before she grabs the ring she thinks will be perfect. I have to give it to the girl. She's right. It matches Nikita's perfectly. What she doesn't realize is that the Celtic design is also perfect for my Irish heritage. The Celtic design swirls around the ring with small garnet gems placed every so often.

"We will take that one too," I tell her.

"Don't you want to know the price?" she asks, finally looking up at us.

Tris takes this moment to pipe in. "D here doesn't spend money on anything. Trust me, he has plenty of money to cover this. Hey, can we go to the furniture store next? Your double bed is not going to be good enough for wifey."

I smack him on the chest. "I should have left you in New York."

The woman moves off, packaging up the jewelry before ringing me up. I barely blink at the price.

Tristano has a point. I've saved up a lot of money. I hate spending it, so this isn't a hardship for me. Growing up with a shitty family and having to scrounge for your own food makes you a little more conscious of the money you spend.

Now I have millions saved up, yet seeing the total amount does make my stomach sour.

How many jobs will I have to do in order to get that money back?

How isthis my life right now?

When Autumn showed up this morning asking to take me dress shopping, I wanted to say no, but I didn't. Then she asked who was going to be my maid of honor. The deer-in-the-headlights look she got must've clued her in because she immediately said she would be honored if I let her do it.

Once I agreed, everything kind of happened quickly. She got on the phone and made some calls, then ushered me into a waiting car.

That led to us being here.

I stare at the dresses surrounding me as Autumn chats with the shopkeeper. Every dress is white and lacy. It's making my skin itch just thinking about it. It sparks memories I would rather forget.

"Remember to just let them do whatever they want. No matter how much pain it causes, you want them to come sooner so you do not have to endure it long," Galinia, my older sister, warns me.

I'm only thirteen, but my breasts have filled in, so she believes I need to know the truth about the world. As if I do not have eyes and have not seen what she has been put through.

"I'll just go fuck a servant boy. Or a street rat. Then it won't matter." I cross my arms, embarrassed by her willingness to do whatever Father says.

She shakes her head. "Your virginity is the only thing that will keep you safe for the time being. If he were to catch you, that poor boy would be dead, and you would be offered as a party favor every single night. Trust me, you hold on to your virtue as long as you possibly can. It holds value which means you will as well."

She looks so sad.

"That didn't work out well for you," I remind her.

Father started pimping her out at sixteen. Every night she would come back from one of his parties looking more and more broken. I hated it, but what could I do? Nothing. I'm worthless.

"Yes, but never for that. I was to save my virtue for marriage." Her eyes grow distant at that thought.

She's been married for a year now, so that virtue is long gone. She doesn't look any worse than when she left here, so maybe the guy isn't too bad.

"Is it really terrible?" I whisper.

She gives me a tight smile. "Not any worse than with Father, I suppose. As long as I am the perfect wife, I am safe. When the time comes, you do your best to keep your husband happy. If you're lucky, have a child who you can devote your life to. Then you will at least have something to live for."

Her hand falls to her stomach.

I wonder if she's pregnant now or if she's hopeful for the future.

"What do you think, Nikita?" Autumn's voice pulls me back from the memories from so long ago.

That was the last time I saw my sister. Her husband decided seeing her family made her too rebellious. From then on, he only let her see my father when requested. Let's just say my father never requested a visit.

"I don't care," I mumble, not even knowing what they are talking about.

"Oh, come on. It's your wedding. You have to have some idea of what you want to wear. Didn't you ever dream of getting married?"

My mind flashes back to my sister. The bruises on her arms and neck. I shiver at the thought.

"No."

My blunt answer shocks Autumn, but she doesn't say anything. Instead, she studies me for a moment before nodding almost to herself. Whatever she saw made her realize that all of this isn't me. Thankfully, she takes charge.

"Measure her, then bring us one dress in each style. I want to see which compliments her more."

The shopkeeper measures me quickly before heading off. Autumn moves in closer to me.

"I'm not blind to what my husband does for a living. I need you to tell me right now. Are you entering into this marriage willingly?" Her tone is low, only meant for my ears.

She glances over at the guard at the door but keeps a smile on her face as if we are sharing some girly secret.

The guard gives her a small smile back before looking out the door for the millionth time.

I consider telling her the truth. Telling her that I don't want to be here. That I want to be somewhere far away living a life I choose with no one dictating what I do.

I could.

I get the feeling that this woman would help me escape. I could go as far south as I can and hope no one finds me. Start a new life off the grid.

Only, it isn't her husband that scares me. Nor is it mine. They have never truly done anything to make me think they want to harm me.

It's my father. If I were to run and he found me, I would be wishing for death. It would be kinder than what he would have in store for me. He ordered me to stay here, and I'm expected to do that.

I'd like to escape. It's been my dream, but I realize now that the thought of the consequences is what has always held me back. Every time I would slip the guards, I could have kept running until I didn't even know where I was, but the thought of what my father would do has held me back. That's why I didn't even barter for my freedom with Haruaki. Why I accepted the death I thought would be there for me. It's also why I accepted this marriage so easily. I might not have the best life I could have, but the one with Declan so far has been a painless one. He has never tried to force me to do something unsavory, nor has he laid a hand on me.

I'm not stupid. That could change at any moment. Especially now that we are to be married. He will have expectations. All I can hope is that I meet them.

The relative safety I feel with these people is what is keeping me here. It's the same reason why I don't take this chance to escape. Why I resign myself to the fact that I will never try to slip this cage as I close the door and lock it myself.

I've made my choice.

So I nod my head. "I am choosing to marry Declan."

She looks suspicious. "You love him?"

I shake my head slowly. Love has nothing to do with this. It is a transaction. I will do what I need to in order to keep him happy and keep his hands off me. I will give him his heir when the time comes, and then I will love that child with all my being. If my sister can do it, so can I.

"I don't," I admit to her softly. "Love often does not factor into marriages in this world. You are extremely lucky to have what you do with your husband."

It's the truth. I'm envious of her relationship with her husband. I yearn for love, which I've never felt. The only person who might have loved me is my sister, but even then she couldn't truly love me. When you grow up in such a violent household, all you can do is hope to survive. I don't blame her, but I don't think I even know what love is.

She gives me a sad smile. "Declan is a good man. You could learn to love him. I know he will fall head over heels for you as soon as you let him in. You're an amazing woman. He will see that."

"Of course," I agree, but I don't mean it.

She lives in a fairy tale where everything works out. I have lived through the other side of that world. The one where all the monsters of your dreams come true.

So I will let her believe that Declan is the man she believes he is. That he would never hurt me. That he will love and cherish me as I'm sure our vows will claim.

While she does that, I will prepare myself for the worst. For the hand that will bruise my face when I commit a minor infraction. The lack of breath when he uses my neck as a reminder of who is in charge. The sting of my hair being pulled when I'm not exactly what he imagined.

While she thinks of Prince Charming, I'll be putting my armor into place because I know the truth.

Prince Charming doesn't marry Russian a woman who has a smart mouth.

No, the only men who want us are the true villains of the story.

So bring on the pain and agony.

I'm ready for it.