10. Ivan

CHAPTER 10

Ivan

A part of me hadn't expected Lucia to actually agree to meet up with me. I'd been so sure she'd tell me to fuck off, but the woman is adept at surprising me. Right now, she's standing in front of me at the lounge, arriving mere moments ago after my driver, Clyde, went to pick her up.

She's not dressed in anything flamboyant. Baggy jeans and a green blouse that clings to her torso and exposes her belly button. She has a jacket on, as well. There's a fire in her eyes as she looks at me.

"Are you going to sit?" I ask, gesturing to the seat at my side.

She crosses her arms over her chest as she stands stubbornly in place.

"Did you choose a hotel as our meeting place intentionally? Because if you think you're getting laid tonight, I have news for you, Mr. Volkov," she says icily.

I smile. "Relax, milaya . I simply chose this hotel because of discretion. I own it, and you can rest assured that no one will spread word of our meeting."

"You own the hotel," she repeats blandly.

"Yes. Now are you going to sit or not?"

She ponders that for a moment before shrugging. I think she's about to sit down but instead she grabs the chair and moves it to the opposite side of the table so we're facing each other instead. I smirk, standing up and moving my chair close to hers. She raises her hands in frustration.

"Are you serious right now?"

"I prefer speaking this way, Lucia. Less chance you'll spill your drink in my face if I'm right beside you."

Her lips twitch. "How optimistic of you."

"With you? Always. Would you like a drink? I already asked the bartender to make you a cosmopolitan."

"No thanks. The last thing I need is lowered defenses around you," she mutters.

"Why? Scared of what you'll do?" I ask in a low tone.

She rolls her eyes. "The opposite. I'm scared of what I'll say. I'm barely holding myself back from cursing you the fuck out. What the hell were you thinking?"

I raise a hand in the air, a gesture for our drinks to be brought forward. Once they're placed on the desk, I grab my whiskey. Lucia ignores her drink, which is fair. I take a sip before speaking.

"What exactly is your problem, krasavitsa ?"

"You want to marry me? No, scratch that—you demanded it, like you were haggling over celery at a farmers' market. You walked into my home and said your piece without giving a fuck about what I wanted."

"What do you want?"

"To not marry you," she answers immediately.

"I'm afraid that's not possible, milaya ."

"Are you kidding me? I barely even know you, Ivan. I'd only met you once in my life before you showed up in my home yesterday. It doesn't make sense for us to get to married."

"We can always begin to get to know each other, Lucia. Why do you think I asked you out tonight?"

"Because you want me to throw a drink in your face," she grits out.

My lips turn up in a smile. I do that a lot around her. Smiling. It's not something I do often, but around Lucia, I feel light enough to do so.

"I think we'd be great together. It's as simple as that. There's no special reasoning. I needed a wife and I knew who you were so I decided to marry you."

"Wait," she starts, her mouth parting. "You knew who I was that first night? Is that why you approached me? Because I'm a Maranzano?"

She looks a little ill at the knowledge. I pause, trying to think of a careful answer.

"I didn't approach you because of your last name, Lucia. I actually had no idea who you were until you said your name."

"And after you found out, you slept with me to what? Trap me into a marriage?"

I frown. "Give me a little more credit than that."

"No, I can't," she says, shaking her head. "You're a terrible person. I realized that the second I saw you, and I should have never let anything happen between us. You think everyone else is beneath you and we're all supposed to dance to your tune. But I'm not going to let that happen. In case it wasn't clear from the dozens of times I already said it, I'm going to say it again, slower this time. I am not marrying you."

I huff out a breath, feeling a little annoyance at her tone. I'm trying my fucking hardest to be patient here.

"You don't have a choice, Lucia. Your family's contractually bound to see this through. If they don't, I'll end them."

"Fuck you. You'll do nothing to my family!" she snaps.

"Wanna bet?"

"None of us has done anything wrong. You're going to start a fight because of a deal a dead man made with you. If you begin this war, people will die. The people I care about could get hurt. Where the fuck is your humanity?"

She's genuinely upset. I lift my hand, placing two fingers on her chin and stroking it softly. She doesn't even flinch from my touch, which is how I know she wants me too. She might try to deny it, but she does.

"Your mistake, milaya , is thinking I have any humanity at all."

She shifts out of my grasp at that, grabbing the drink on the table. I like a woman who follows through on her threats. But she's too slow and I'm able to hold her hand in place before she can throw the cocktail in my face. Very slowly, I guide her hand back down, removing the glass from her hand and placing it on the table.

"Your anger is justified, Lucia," I assure her, rubbing my thumb over the pressure point on her wrist. I feel her heart rate spike for a second before she rips her hand from my grasp. I look up, making sure to keep my eyes on her as I speak. "Mark my words, though, our marriage is a foregone conclusion. I decided it's going to happen so it is. I wish I could give you more choice in the matter, krasavitsa , but I can't. This isn't just about you and me anymore, it's about your family's organization and the honor behind their words."

"Screw honor," she spits.

"You may say that, but if they can't keep their word in their dealings then why should anyone deal with them in the first place? I'm sure the Don is very aware of how deep this entire situation goes. It's not just about a marriage. A promise was made. If they refuse to fulfill it, the Cosa Nostra will fall."

"You're a sociopath," she grits out.

"Maybe. But I'm a sociopath who wants you, Lucia. Which is a damn shame for those who try to stop me."

For the first time, she actually looks scared of me. I don't like it. She gets to her feet, putting some distance between us.

"If you hurt any member of my family, I'll never forgive you."

"I don't want to hurt them, Lucia. I won't if you come to me," I say gruffly.

She clenches her jaw before looking away. "I'm leaving."

"Forty-eight hours are almost up, Lucia. I expect your decision and your family's decision in the morning."

I don't stop her as she leaves the lounge, I just make a quick call to ensure Clyde drops her off at home safely. And then I finish my whiskey, pondering my next moves.

Am I really going to go to war with the Italians over this?

I'd hate to kill any of her family members. If I do, I'm never going to get her. And if I lose her in the end, then there's really no point to all of this. Pointless bloodshed isn't my thing. In fact, this entire thing is completely out of character for me.

I blame it all on her and her refusal to get out of my head. Even now, when I know without a doubt that she hates my guts, all I can think about is taking her against a wall, fucking her on all fours. She's constantly dominating my thoughts. Her and all that fire.

There's a very big possibility Ramirez will call my bluff tomorrow. I wouldn't advise it, but if they decide not to release Lucia, then I'll have to go to war based on principle alone. I already threatened them; going back on my word would be cowardly.

I get a call from one of my men asking for my location, and thirty minutes later, he's walking into the lounge. Lukas inclines his head in deference as soon as he spots me. I've known Lukas a long time. He's a spy I planted into the Cosa Nostra when he was still younger. I wanted him to grow up with the Italians, gain their trust.

I played a long game to establish an alliance with them. The Pakhan was never going to work toward one, but I realized it wouldn't hurt to have them on our side. In this city, the Bratva and the Cosa Nostra hold the most weight, the most power. The alliance was meant to solidify said power. And now, thanks to me, that power hangs in the balance. On a precipice.

The irony is not lost on me. I might have to tear down all I've built with my own hands.

"What decision did they come to?" I ask Lukas once he's taken a seat, bypassing a hello.

Lukas has always been fiercely loyal to me, ever since I saved his life as a child. Even now that his loyalties sway more toward the Italians than the Bratva. I'm aware of the closed-table meeting the Don had earlier this evening. Lukas's wife sits at that table, so I'm sure he knows the outcome of the meeting.

"It's not looking good, boss," he replies with a frown. "Nicolas isn't going to back down."

"Shame," I mutter.

Lukas sits up in his chair, his gaze intense. "Are you really going to go through with this war?"

I smirk, swirling the remaining liquid in my glass, watching as it moves.

"That's an excellent question, Lukas. Am I really going to go through with this?"