Chapter 40

CHAPTER 40

VIVIAN

V ar stared straight at me, not even bothering to look at the gun. "You never disappoint, Vivian."

With my arms stretched out before me, I steadied the heavy weight of it with both hands. "This is not a joke." I gestured behind him. "Move aside so I can get in the elevator."

He crossed his arms over his chest. "Not a chance."

I shook the gun. "I'm serious, Var."

"So am I."

"What's going on?"

My arm swung in an arch as I pivoted to face the new threat.

Two men strolled casually down the hallway toward us. I recognized them from the scene of Abakar's murder and from my Google search. They were Var's partners, Mac and Anton.

Anton pointed to the gun I was holding. "I didn't know your wedding had a Western theme."

Mac shook his head. "I think it needs to be a shotgun."

Anton pointed at him and nodded. "You're right. Although usually it's because the bride wants to get married."

Mac moved to Var and placed his hand on his shoulder. "Friend, your blushing bride doesn't seem too eager to marry you."

Var ignored his taunt, keeping his sharp gaze trained on me. "Her opinion on the matter is of no consequence."

I threw my arm wide before remembering that I was holding the damn gun and once more held it with both hands trained on him. "No consequence? Are you serious? I don't know how they do things in Russia, but here in America, you need the bride's permission to marry her."

Mac raised a finger. "Fun fact. We have this glorious tradition where we kidnap the bride after bribing her family in Russia."

The corner of Var's mouth lifted. "Not the time, friend."

Anton placed a hand in his suit pants pocket as he leaned a shoulder against the nearby wall. "Perhaps Var has not fully explained the situation to you. I know you recognize us from the warehouse."

I knew what they were doing.

The crossed arms.

Leaning against the wall.

The casual teasing.

They were trying to lull me into a false sense of calm, to unnerve and confuse me.

"I've already told Var I won't go to the police with what I know."

He slowly shook his head. "Not good enough. If it weren't for Var's intervention, you'd be rotting under the waters of Lake Michigan instead of standing here in a beautiful wedding gown."

At his shocking admission, my gaze shot back to Var.

He remained silent, staring at me with a clenched jaw.

A fourth man joined us. Unlike the others, who were dressed in clearly expensive suits, he was dressed entirely in black, like he'd just come from S.W.A.T. I also recognized him from the warehouse.

He held up his phone. "The Chinese know about her. They just hacked her Etsy account."

What?

The one called Mac stepped forward.

I raised the gun in alarm.

He lifted his arms, showing me his palms as he gestured with his head. "Vivian, this super scary man who doesn't know how to properly dress for a wedding is Serg. He handles our… security. Do you understand what he just said?"

I wanted to scream that they were all lying just to scare me, but I knew they were telling the truth. I'd never told Var I booked my forgery clients through an Etsy account.

Before I could consider what to do next, Var lunged.

Snatching the gun from my hand, he racked the slide to un-chamber the bullet, then lifted his arm and with one hand dropped the bullet magazine. It clattered to the marble table surface.

His arm wrapped around my waist and yanked me to his chest. With his hand on my neck, he towered over me as he rasped against my lips, "Do you know what that means, beautiful?"

Not trusting myself to speak, I just shook my head as I stared into the dark depths of his angry eyes.

"It means without the protection of my name, you're dead."

"Couldn't you just say I was under your protection?"

"No."

His hand moved to grip my hair at the back of my skull as he half dragged me the rest of the way. In the living room, the judge stood there in silence.

He wiped his brow with the sleeve of his robe. "We are here today to celebrate the union of?—"

Anton leaned forward. "Skip that part, judge."

The judge swallowed and nodded. "Marriage is a commitment to?—"

Mac cleared his throat.

The judge's eyes widened. "Okay, moving along." He flipped through the pages of the leather portfolio he was holding. "You have both come here today freely and without restraint—nope, skipping that part."

This farce was really happening.

I was marrying Var.

My heart beat so fast, I feared I would pass out.

A wave of heat washed over me, making me lightheaded.

"Do you, Varlaam Romanovich Rubashkin, take Vivian Grace Peyton to be your spouse and to live together as partners, to treat them with love and respect, and to build a marriage that grows stronger and more loving as time passes?"

Say no.

Say no.

Please say no.

Stop this madness.

Var trained his gaze on me and, without the slightest hesitation, said, "I do."

My chest constricted.

The judge turned to me.

As he did so, Var's grip on the back of my neck tightened slightly.

A warning.

"Do you, Vivian Grace Peyton, take Varlaam Romanovich Rubashkin to be your spouse and to live together as partners, to treat them with love and respect, and to build a marriage that grows stronger and more loving as time passes?"

My throat closed.

A bead of sweat dripped between my shoulder blades, where the corset strings bit into my skin.

My lips were stiff as I tried to form the words.

But I couldn't do it.

I couldn't.

I shook my head. "I'm sorry. I don't. I can't. I'm sorry."

I tried to back away, but Var's grip prevented me. He shifted his hand to my lower back, pressing me into the heat of his body. His other hand cupped my jaw as he stared intently at me. "Judge, continue."

My brow furrowed. "I said no."

Var bared his teeth as he growled at the judge, "I said continue."

The judge cleared his throat. "Okay… well, um… I guess I'll take that as a yes."

I tried to turn my head to confront the judge, but Var's grip prevented it. "I said no! No!"

The judge's beady eyes moved over the men in the room.

Serg took one menacing step forward.

The judge cleared his throat again. "Are there rings?"

Var kept his gaze on me. "Skip that part."

The only sound to be heard in the tense room was the judge nervously flipping through pages. "Then, by the virtue of the authority vested in me by the State of Illinois, I now pronounce you married. You may… you may kiss your bride."

My fingers dug into the lapels of his tuxedo. "Don't you dare?—"

Var's mouth slammed down on mine in a punishing kiss of possession.

A cheer went up in the room from the other men.

There was a pop of champagne.

Still Var kissed me, as if he were refusing to relent until I'd completely submitted.

Finally, I broke away. My fingertips lifted to my bruised lips.

Var captured my hand and raised it to his lips. "Tomorrow, I'll take you to Tiffany's and you can pick out whatever ring you want for this pretty finger. I want the world to know you are now mine."

Serg handed me a glass of champagne, then lifted his own in a toast. "Happy you can no longer legally be compelled to testify against your husband day!"

This was madness.

The judge held up the marriage license.

My last hope. This farce wasn't legal if I didn't sign.

"I'll just forge her signature and file this with the clerk."

So much for that.

In a fit of rage and panic, I smashed my glass to the floor. "I said no!"

My outburst was met with a dangerous silence.

Var stepped close. "Excuse me, gentlemen, while I have a word with my wife ."

I turned to run, but didn't make it a single step.

Grabbed by powerful hands, I was tossed over Var's shoulder and carried out of the room, screaming bloody murder.