Chapter 38
Nikolai
Stalking into my parents’ house with Dad right behind me, I mutter, “I’m fucking going to kill everyone.”
“You can’t,” Dad reminds me.
“How did the run go?” Mom asks as she comes out of the kitchen. “Good. The diamonds are high quality,” Dad answers.
Mom’s eyes lock on my face, “What’s wrong?”
“Abigail’s father removed her from St. Monarch’s. He’s arranging a marriage for her with Antonio Vittori,” I growl, barely able to say the words out loud.
A dark frown forms on Mom’s face as she gasps, “What the hell?”
We all move to the living room, where Mom and Dad take a seat. I start pacing, unable to sit with the pent-up energy rushing through me.
“I’ve spoken with Viktor,” I inform Mom. “He asked that I try not to shed blood because it will cost him the money he makes off them.”
“The D’Angelos and Sartoris aren’t just people you attack,” Dad grumbles. “It will cause a rift that Viktor’s worked so had to bridge over the years. They’ve only just yielded to the bratva.”
“I know,” I mutter. “Trust me, I fucking know.” “Buy Abigail,” Mom mentions.
“She’s not cattle to be sold and purchased!” I take a deep breath to calm down, then whisper, “Sorry, Mom. I didn’t mean to raise my voice at you.”
She gets up and comes to rub my arm. “I know this is hard. We all want her back. If you charge the Sartori’s mansion and go in guns blazing, she could get killed. All hell will break out.”
She’s right. I can’t risk Abigail’s life, no matter how badly I want to kill her father. Never mind the strain it would put on my relationship with my cousin.
Fuck.
I have to buy Abigail.
God, I hope she’ll understand I’m doing it to save her.
“How do you want to handle this?” Dad asks.
I let out a heavy sigh. “We’ll go to the Sartoris’ mansion, and I’ll buy my woman from the bastard.”
I might not get to kill him today, but I sure as fuck will punch the ever- living shit out of him.
“Let’s get ready,” Mom says as she hurries to the door.
My eyes meet Dad’s, and I mutter, “At least, this way, our children will inherit the Sartori empire. I’m going to think of it as an investment.”
“Yes, bloodshed isn’t always the answer,” Dad agrees.
“You’ll need to keep me calm,” I warn him. “So I don’t kill the fucker in a fit of rage.”
Dad lets out a chuckle as he stands up. “Why did you have to inherit your mother’s temper?”
“I heard that!” Mom calls from somewhere in the house.
Abbie
The guests are starting to arrive, and I have to fake being happy while receiving their well-wishes.
This sucks.
I help myself to a glass of champagne and slowly sip on it. The last thing I want is to get drunk tonight.
Antonio is standing by my side, his hand resting on the small of my back. Again my skin crawls as if a million fire ants are going to town on my ass.
“You’re so lucky,” Mrs. D’Angelo says to me. “Antonio is a fine choice.”
I’m sure. They’re just too freaking happy to take the man’s money.
After all, what benefits my father, benefits Mr. D’Angelo.
“Where’s Aurora?” she asks, her eyes scanning over the guests for her daughter.
“I don’t know.” Come to think of it, I haven’t seen them since Misha pulled her aside. “I think she’s in the kitchen with Misha.”
Mrs. D’Angelo lets out a huff. “She better watch her weight, or she won’t fit into the wedding dress.”
I almost roll my eyes but catch myself in time.
“So, Antonio,” she addresses him, “when will your wedding be?”
Yeah, I have news for you. It takes two people, and I sure as hell won’t be there.
Antonio tugs me to his side, the closeness making bile churn in my stomach.
“We won’t wait too long.” He smiles at me while his hand flirts with my ass, sending a wave of disgust through me. “Next month?”
I shrug before downing half the champagne. “Oh. My. God,” a guest exclaims.
“Fuck,” another whispers.
I watch as shock and fear ripples over the guests’ faces, and confused by their reactions, I glance around.
Antonio’s arm tightens around me as he takes a step backward.
What the hell is going on?
Then my eyes land on Nikolai, where he’s standing by the sliding doors.
The glass slips from my hand and falls on the grass.
Behind him are Damien, Winter, and Grandpa Cillian. My heart speeds up at the sight of them.
They came.
Intense emotion washes over me.
“The Vetrovs,” Antonio whispers. “What are they doing here?”
A smile splits over my face, and I yank away from Antonio. “They’re here for me.”
Nikolai’s eyes lock on me, then he takes the steps down. The guests part like the red sea before him, and I have to admit it’s one of the hottest things I’ve ever seen.
Get out of the way, people. My man is here.
Someone grabs hold of my arm, and I’m yanked backward. Seeing the person is my father, worry pours into my veins.
As much as I don’t get along with my family and hate what they’ve done to me, I don’t want a war to break out on my account.
“What is the meaning of this?” my father demands.
Nikolai stops in front of us, looking like a dark prince, ready to avenge his princess’ honor.
My father ignores Nikolai and glares at Damien. “I don’t recall inviting you.”
“You have something my son wants,” Damien replies.
I’m yanked farther back and stumble, almost falling on my ass.
“Yank her again, and I’ll rip your fucking arms off,” Nikolai growls, his expression so dark and dangerous it makes a chill skitter down my spine.
“Let go of me,” I hiss before I manage to pry my arm free from my father’s biting hold. I rush forward, and Winter grabs my hand, pulling me to her. When her arm wraps around me, I feel emotional from the relief of being with the Vetrovs.
I take the ring off my finger and throw it at Antonio’s feet before clinging to Winter.
“You’re going to be okay, my baby,” she coos.
Feeling her motherly love, I bite my bottom lip, so I don’t start crying.
How can a woman I’ve only known a week feel more like a mother than the one who gave birth to me? It’s insane.
“I should never have left the island,” I whisper.
“It’s okay. We’ve come to take you home,” she assures me.
“Abigail belongs to me,” Nikolai declares with so much authority it has Antonio scurrying into the group of guests in an attempt to blend in with them.
“She’s my daughter,” my father barks. He lets out a burst of incredulous laughter. “Does Viktor know you’re here?”
“The bratva has nothing to do with this,” Nikolai mutters. “Viktor has no authority here. This is between you and me, Sartori.”
The confident expression on my father’s face wavers.
My mother downs her glass of champagne before helping herself to another while she watches the drama unfold with little interest.
What an empty life she must live. That would’ve been my future had I not met Nikolai.
Nikolai lets out an impatient sigh, then asks, “How do you want to handle this?”
“Everyone leave,” my father barks at the guests.
They all rush to get away as fast as possible, Antonio running with them.
Coward.
When it’s just the Vetrovs, Sartoris, and D’Angelos left, my father says, “Abbie is a valuable asset.”
My eyebrows lift, and I shake my head at the man who calls himself my father.
“How much?” Nikolai demands.
I can’t believe what I’m hearing, but understanding Nikolai is trying to avoid bloodshed, I can’t get upset.
My father’s eyes flick to me, and all I see is greed. “I would’ve obtained fifty million euros from Antonio on their wedding day.”
Say what?
Winter’s arm tightens around me as if she’s trying to comfort me because my father is selling me.
“How much do you want, Sartori?” Nikolai shouts, rage brimming in his voice.
“Double.”
Jesus Christ. One hundred million euros. That’s a shit-ton of money!
My eyes dart between my father and Nikolai. The tension builds until I expect one of them to pull out a gun.
“And, of course, an invitation to the wedding,” my father adds. “You don’t want an asset like Abbie to be free for too long. Another man might make me a better offer.”
Nikolai darts forward, slamming his fist repeatedly into my father’s face.
Damien moves quickly to pull Nikolai back, then whispers, “Stay calm.
Focus on getting Abigail out of here.”
My father wipes the blood from his nose, sneering at Nikolai. “You should listen to your father, son.”
“I’m not your fucking son.” Nikolai glares at my father. “The money will be in your account by midnight.” He turns around, and grabbing hold of my hand, he drags me toward the mansion.
“I look forward to seeing the infamous Vetrov island,” My father taunts him. “It was nice doing business with you, Nikolai.”
“Keep pushing me, fucker,” Nikolai growls under his breath. “Just keep walking,” Damien murmurs.
All the Vetrovs are on high alert as we rush through the house and out the front door. I’m bundled into an SUV, and Nikolai and Winter slide in on either side of me. Damien climbs in behind the steering wheel while Grandpa Cillian takes the passenger seat.
When we pull away from the mansion and drive through the gates, I glance over my shoulder and release a relieved breath. “I expected bullets to fly.”
Grandpa Cillian lets out a chuckle. “Enough money can stop any war.”
Right.
I was just sold to Nikolai.
As the thought crosses my mind, I’m yanked into my man’s arms and squashed to his chest. His breaths are harsh, as if he’s run a marathon.
“Thank you for coming for me,” I whisper.
“I’ll always come for you.” He holds me for a few minutes before he pulls back to look at me, his eyes drinking in the sight of me. “Did they hurt you?”
I shake my head and try to joke to ease the tension in the vehicle. “Damaged goods don’t sell for as much.”
I’m pressed to his chest again. “I was so fucking worried.”
I hold Nikolai tight, glad there wasn’t any blood shed today. I really don’t want anyone to die because of me.
After a while, I ask, “What happens now?” “Now, we go home,” Winter answers.
Home.
Never in a million years did I think I’d become part of the Vetrov family.
A smile curves my lips as I lean against my man.
Thank God for miracles.