Aurora
Tonight was going to be a disaster.
I don’t know why Slavik had agreed to this dinner, but I was terrified. It was the first dinner as a married couple. Nearly five months into marriage, and he finally decided it was time to host a dinner. A private family dinner.
My parents were coming.
Only mine.
He didn’t have any parents.
This was going to be a nightmare, but for the past three days, I’d been planning it. Slavik had insisted on a cook. He wouldn’t eat anything I cooked for him. Not that it hurt or offended me.
It really did, but I tried not to let it show.
Along with reading, I also liked to cook. What Slavik didn’t know was that I’d put myself on a very strict diet. Years of name calling and abuse, and I was done. I wanted to be happy with myself, but I couldn’t handle it anymore. That day back in the restaurant had sealed the deal. Those words the women had laughed about. They hurt.
I worked out at the gym every single day. I swam every day. I counted calories, being sure not to go over my limit.
So far, I’d lost a couple of pounds, not that anyone noticed.
I did.
I’d even started to use the scales in the bathroom. They’d been placed in one of the storage cupboards. Now every single morning and each night, I weighed myself. It was difficult, but I tried to keep the weight the same morning and night. I ate little. Drank water, and in all honesty, prayed.
This evening was going to be difficult. In the past, my family had even mocked my attempts to lose weight, which had set me on a spiral of overeating.
I’d be in control. I was a married woman, planning my first dinner party. It would all go well. I was determined for it to work out.
Even as I thought the words, I couldn’t help but doubt myself.
Slavik had already returned home. We hadn’t talked since he’d come home at lunch and demanded sex.
I had no idea why women enjoyed sex. It was … boring, slightly painful. Whatever he’d put on me before he’d entered me had made it comfortable, but still, I didn’t understand why so many women were into it. Why there was even a porn industry.
Dressed in a simple black dress, I looked into the mirror. Was it slimming enough?
Slavik entered. “We’re not conducting a funeral. Change.”
He went to the bathroom.
Staring at my reflection, I thought I looked okay, but black was for funerals. I wished I had the balls to defy him.
I changed out of the black dress and opted for a white one, instead. This one clung to my curves.
I was about to change when Slavik came out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his impressive waist.
Attraction was still new to me, and even though I hated my husband, I did believe I … fancied him, at least a little bit. He was heaven to look at.
The bad boy.
Dangerous.
Deadly.
Shaking out of my thoughts, I saw Slavik was still looking at me. “Wear that,” he said.
I looked down at myself.
The dress went to the knee, and the front of the dress plunged to the top of my breasts. It covered everything but it felt so … sexy, and this was a family dinner.
Rather than argue, I changed the black shoes for a pair of white heels. They stung the backs of my ankles, but I ignored the pain.
Just as I was about to leave, Slavik ordered me to stop.
I turned as he came toward me.
He reached behind my head and I had to give myself a pat on the back for not flinching away from his touch. He released the clip that bound up my hair.
Staring up at him, I waited.
He didn’t give me permission to leave as he walked toward his jacket and came back with a velvet box.
He opened it up, showing off a pair of diamond earrings and a matching necklace. They were both beautiful, delicate.
“Thank you,” I said.
“Wear them tonight.”
“It’s only dinner with my parents.”
“I don’t care. I want them on you tonight.”
I took the box from him, but he stopped me, taking out the necklace. Turning my back to him, he placed it over my head so it lay against my chest, and secured the clasp. Staring in the mirror with him to my back, it seemed intimate. I’d read many scenes where the hero had now kissed the heroine’s neck and drawn her back, where she’d be able to feel his arousal. But he stepped away, leaving me cold and feeling a little stupid.
“Go,” he said.
My master had finally released me.
I took the box, and in another room, I put the earrings in. They were very pretty.
After closing the box, I placed it in a cupboard and then made my way to check on the table. Everything was set perfectly. Candles had been lit. Wine sat cooling, ready for the right moment to pour.
The house had been cleaned. Slavik had insisted on a cleaner to come in. There was so much he wouldn’t have me do. To be honest, I didn’t even know why I was here half the time. It wasn’t like he had any use for me. It was very embarrassing.
I checked into the kitchen and the chef who had been hired gave me a wink and promised it would be the best food imaginable. It looked like he was cooking seafood. I hated seafood, but I didn’t have the heart to tell him for a fifth time.
The scents alone were making me feel queasy. I wondered if I was pregnant and wasn’t entirely sure if I was happy or sad about that.
Bringing a baby into this world seemed cruel. A boy would be forced to train and kill. A girl would grow up to be a bride. Either happy or abused by her husband. This was our life. Did I want to risk bringing either child into the world? Possibly hating one while also dreading the life of another? It made absolutely no sense to me to do either.
I left the chef to his own devices and instead went toward the corridor where Sergei stood, waiting for instructions.
He always lingered. I hoped one day he’d come to see me as a friend and not as a job or obligation.
The smile he offered me was welcome.
I spent all my time with him. What I didn’t like was how often he was around me. A constant shadow.
“You’re going to do great,” he said.
“Thanks.”
The truth was I knew this night was going to be a disaster.
“Relax.” Sergei reached out, putting a hand on my shoulder. It was the first time he’d touched me since I’d been married to his boss. On instinct, I jerked back. No one else was supposed to touch me or even be allowed near me. Those were the rules. “I’m sorry.”
I didn’t have time to completely process the thought as the doorbell rang. I should have waited for Slavik, but my nerves were getting the better of me. Against my better judgment, I opened the door to welcome my father, Franco. My mother, Gianna. My sister, Isabella, and one of my brothers, Cole.
Offering a smile, I stepped back to allow them entry. My hands grew clammy and my heart raced.
“You shouldn’t be answering the door,” my father said. “Can’t the Bratva pay for help? Are they that hard up for cash?”
Before I got a chance to answer, Slavik was there. “We allow our women to have their own minds and know they can answer the door without the need for assistance.” He came to stand beside me.
I had no idea how much I needed the comfort, but the moment he was there, I didn’t want him to leave.
Our marriage wasn’t a happy one, nor pleasant, but clearly something had been going right in the past five months for me to prefer his company to my parents. The idea of Slavik coming home every night didn’t make me sick to my stomach.
“What if I’d been your enemy? Your wife would be dead now.”
My father had clearly washed his hands of me. No reference to me being his daughter or a member of his family. I was Slavik’s now.
“I have Sergei,” I said, speaking up, breaking all the rules. My dad couldn’t punish me now. I was no longer his responsibility.
In fact, realizing that, it kind of sent a shiver of pleasure rushing down my spine. They were in Slavik’s home now. I belonged to him. His property.
“Please, I’ll show you to the dining room.”
Slavik took my hand, not allowing me to go far.
“They can find the table. Sergei, make them sit,” he said.
I heard the outrage coming from my mother, but I ignored it as Slavik held my hand, stopping me from going anywhere. “What seems to be the problem?” I asked.
“Why are we having fish?”
His question caught me off guard. “Excuse me?”
“Fish. It’s being served.”
“It’s what the chef decided.”
“You hate fish.”
For a split second, I was speechless. How did he know that? Why did he even care? Licking my dry lips, I looked over his shoulder, but he snapped his fingers. This made me feel like a child.
“You wanted a chef, and he wouldn’t listen to me. No, I don’t like fish, but he wouldn’t allow me to have any choice.”
“What will you eat?”
“Bread, or whatever else is around. I won’t starve.” I had to wonder how many calories were in bread. I hadn’t eaten a whole lot today. The moment Slavik told me he’d invited my family to dinner, eating had been the last thing on my mind. The idea of sitting with my family and hearing their judgmental comments was enough to stop me from eating. If he’d told me this at the beginning of the week, I’d have lost a great deal of weight already.
“I don’t like this.”
“Next time, don’t organize a chef and have a little trust in me.”
“Why should I trust you?” he asked.
I didn’t know what came over me. Hurt? Anger. Irritation that I should trust him, but he can’t trust me.
“And why should I trust you?” I glared at him and tugged my wrist from out of his hold, marching into the dining room. The moment I crossed the threshold, the mask was firmly in place.
Dinner hadn’t even started, and it was already a disaster. My father had taken my place setting at the head of the table. This was an instant sign of disrespect. I clenched my hands together, twisting them, trying to figure out what the hell to do.
Slavik entered and paused. “I’m not married to you, Fredo. Get out of her seat,” he said.
I’d never heard anyone speak to my father like that. I looked at my husband, whose gaze was on my father.
“Pardon me?”
“Are you going deaf as well as being stupid? Get the fuck out of my wife’s seat now.”
“This sign of disrespect—”
I cried out as Slavik grabbed my father, dragging him out of his seat and placing him firmly in his own. “My house! My fucking rules. Live by them, or I will cut your throat, treaty or not.”
Silence rang out and was only interrupted by the chef bringing out the first course. The scent of fish was too much for me, and with a hand on my stomach, I threw up all over Isabella’s designer dress.
****
Slavik
“It was a family dinner,” I said, not the first time either, and Ivan was still laughing. It would seem my father-in-law didn’t take kindly to my threats. “Have you had a chance to look at what I’ve sent you?” I wanted to get back on track, not discussing the poorly organized dinner.
Aurora had looked tense the entire time. I noticed the way her family treated her with indifference. They didn’t care about her. I saw it more clearly now than ever before. They’d given me and the Bratva a daughter they held no regard for.
After my wife threw up on her sister’s dress, Isabella had changed into some clothes of Aurora’s, which had started a whole conversation about the size difference between the two women. I’d immediately brought a stop to it.
Her sister Isabella had talked the whole time, and while she did, the sound of her voice grated on my nerves. Her family doted on her, though. It was like she’d hosted our party last night, not Aurora. As for the chef, well, he’d gotten what was coming to him. Telling my wife what he’d serve and not listening to her. He’d come from one of our restaurants, and clearly, he hadn’t been given the update on who was in charge. I’d enjoyed every single moment of reminding him.
“Yes, I’m looking at it, and it seems to occur during two specific times where the rate of men versus income differs.”
I listened as Ivan gave me the few remaining details of the puzzle. All I had to do now was go back to Cara with them and we could run down a list of employees who would have full access to the office, along with the ability to take money. It wouldn’t be a hard deal to handle.
“How is the lovely Cara these days?” Ivan asked.
With Ivan being in the tower of power, it was rare for him to see Cara. She was considered under my jurisdiction. Of course, if he actually wanted to see her, all he’d need to do was make a phone call.
“Well, from what I saw.” I’d never been one to make small talk.
“And your wife? Have you started to make babies yet?”
I ran a hand down my face. If Ivan wasn’t my friend and my boss, I’d tell him to go and fuck himself.
“Everything is going well.”
“Don’t fucking lie to me, Slavik. You and I know how important this treaty is. I’ve given you a woman because I know you’ll follow instructions and she won’t be dead within a few years at your hand. This play cannot work without all the cogs working. Get her pregnant and do it soon.”
He hung up and I stared at my phone before pocketing it.
I glanced up at the night sky, taking a final deep breath. The play was the chance to expand, to take more turf. With Aurora as my wife, it made the Italians look weak. They wanted an alliance to stop the bloodshed, as we’d been killing their made men for years. This treaty, however long it lasted, would gain us the power to completely wipe them from our list of enemies.
It was always about ground and money. Two of which always equaled power, and we always wanted a lot of it.
Entering the warehouse, I heard the screams. My men stood waiting for the instruction. The man hanging upside down, blood streaming from several slashes that had been made into his flesh, whimpered, and the almost animal-like sounds he made echoed around the room.
I’d long ago been desensitized to the noises of the tortured. This man had stolen from us. Taken product in the intent to hand us over to the law. We didn’t take betrayal easily. He’d also been trying to get out of the country ever since he realized he was the piece in a trap.
“No, please. No. I’ll do anything.”
I crouched down so we were at eye level. “Who were you going to meet with?” I asked.
After he’d called to try to buy protection for the information he believed he had, he went running to one of our enemies, the Italian mafia. This morning, I got the call from Fredo himself, the man willing to trade secrets. This was why the treaty worked.
“I’m dead anyway,” the man said.
I tilted my head to the side, looking at him. He’d already pissed and shit himself. The contents of his body swirled on the floor, creating a stink. I hated weak men. This man was the lowest of the low.
When you swore loyalty to someone, you gave yourself to the cause, and this fucker was everything I despised.
Ivan Volkov was a fucking king in our world, and to all those who turned on him, turned on us, I never showed mercy.
“True, but I can make it an easy death. You wouldn’t feel pain. Or I can keep you alive for days, weeks, months, and every single day, you will feel nonstop pain.” I tilted my head to the side with a smile. “What’s it going to be?”
When I smiled, it terrified people.
I was used to having that effect on people because I rarely found humor in this life. I had no desire for it. I had one set mode and that was to kill. To annihilate my enemies.
He still didn’t talk, so I figured it was time to remind him. I’d already plucked his toenails and fingernails, but now I would extract his teeth, one at a time.
Two of my men lifted him, holding him still as I pried open his mouth. He thrashed, trying to get away, but he was no match for our strength. I used the right tool for the job, and within seconds, held a very healthy-looking tooth.
“Please, I’ll tell you anything.”
“I’m listening.” I was sure to keep the sight of the tooth for him to see as a reminder. It worked. He told me all about the knowledge of our treaty. How the Italians had insulted us by granting us a marriage with a daughter they wanted to get rid of and how there was a rumor of a takeover.
Now this was news to me.
He continued to explain the gossip running rife about our enemies, how they were willing to band together with some MCs, and even the cartels had been seen coming and going through their turf.
Once he was done, I had enough to work through, and so the death was clean, precise, and over with. He had given me far more work.
We intended to take the turf away from the Italians. Any attack now would be suicide. I filled Ivan in on the details I’d gained, and along with it, I heard the new anger in his voice. We’d been aware of Aurora’s lack of desire, but this went beyond that. We couldn’t attack now, but we would be aware, gathering the necessary intel that would be required for us to completely wipe them off the face of the earth.
“What do I do with Aurora?” I asked.
“Simple. I have a feeling if she’s as expendable to them as everyone believes, they won’t care about her death. We keep her alive. You use her. Host several more of those family dinners. Find out everything we know and play the loving husband. We will hurt them for this.”
I agreed and hung up.
My biggest problem … I didn’t like the way they’d disregarded Aurora. She was my wife, and it was my duty, for now, to keep her alive, but I had a problem with how they treated her. From the moment the agreed treaty of a marriage was negotiated, I’d seen the way she was handled. How they pushed her to one side as if she didn’t matter. Not only that, but even the other night with those women at the dinner table. They couldn’t stand to be around her.
I didn’t get it. Aurora was sweet. She was kind. I saw it in her eyes even though she tried to hide everything. What I also saw was acceptance. She lived with this, being constantly passed over, ignored.
Arriving at my penthouse suite, I discovered it was empty. No sign of Aurora or Sergei, which pissed me off.
I pulled out my cell phone and dialed Sergei.
“Where are you?” I didn’t like this one bit.
“We’re at the pool. Aurora wanted to do some laps.”
“It’s Mrs. Ivanov,” I said, hanging up the phone.
I was already heading toward the pool. In the elevator, I rubbed at my temple. I hadn’t slept in two days so far. Sleep rarely came to me. I had no trust in anyone around me, and right now between Cara’s problem, and now the Italian one, there was no way I was going to relax.
You were killed if you let down your guard, and that was the last thing I was going to do.
The elevator went down to the level with the gym and the pool. I saw the sign posted, stating the pool was closed for the time being.
As I entered, I caught sight of my wife wearing a one-piece swimsuit. She had her arms crossed over the edge of the pool, and Sergei, as far as I was concerned, looked a little too cozy with my wife, which pissed me off.
We’d been married a little over five months, and as I watched them, I didn’t like how close they seemed. Anger worked up my body as I stepped into view. The moment I did, the smile on Aurora’s lips fell and Sergei stood.
He bowed his head to me. “Sir.”
“You can leave,” I said.
He nodded. Without another look at my wife, he left the room. Alone with my wife, I saw Aurora move back into the water. We looked at each other.
She wasn’t a stunning beauty, but there was a beauty there. I’d had my fair share of fake beauty. There was something about Aurora that called to me.
“I didn’t know you were coming home,” she said.
“You never do.”
Again, small talk wasn’t my strong suit.
“It would be wise of you not to flirt with my men.”
This had her frowning. “I wasn’t flirting.”
“You think I didn’t see what you were doing?”
She looked to where Sergei had left. “We were just talking. Not everything between a man and a woman has to be about … sex.”
My cock twitched. I hadn’t gotten the pleasure of enjoying my wife. She’d moved toward the edge of the pool, and as she grabbed the side, I watched as she pulled herself out. I admired the curves of her body. The fullness of her ass. She grabbed a towel.
“If you continue to flirt with Sergei and give him the wrong message, I will kill him.”
She glared at him. “I wasn’t flirting with him. He’s my … friend.”
This made me laugh. I couldn’t help it. Sergei wasn’t a friend. None of my men were her friends, and if given the order, they would turn on her at a moment’s notice.
What I didn’t expect was the slap to the face. I captured her hand and pulled her against me. She began to wriggle, and with how close her body was, I had no problem with it. Not that I’d force her. Rape wasn’t something I wanted to ever experience.
Staring into her eyes, I restrained her, making her pause with a single hand on her ass. I gripped her tightly, and tears filled her eyes.
“Don’t ever fucking do that again.”
“Why?”
“I don’t like being hit. I tend to hit back.”
“Then don’t accuse me of doing something I never did. I don’t flirt. I wouldn’t even know how.”
“My men know the rules. You’re a job to them, nothing more.”
She wore a good mask, but I saw my words had struck her hard. “You think I don’t know that? It’s all I do know. I’m a job. It’s why I don’t flirt. Now let me go, or is there something else you want from me?”
Her lips looked really tempting, but my anger was not in a good place. I released her, and without a backward glance, she left. The curves of her ass just begged for me to call her back and show her what real sex was all about. The two times I’d fucked her hadn’t been real. It had been mechanical, a necessity and then a release. I wanted her again, but not tonight. I never allowed my hormones to take charge. I was the one who held control over myself, no one else.