Most people didn’t realize how crazy they could get by being forced alone, especially when I exposed them to the elements, or better yet, utter darkness and rodents. It was something I’d learned to embrace.
Some might say I have a screw loose in the head, but really, I’m a natural born survivor. It’s what Ivan had said to me often. No one fucked with me and if they even dared to, they often ended up begging a lot sooner than I anticipated. I liked to have fun.
“Nothing to be nervous about. You’re about to be married. Bringing two warring families together, and you’re not worried.”
Looking at Slavik, I don’t smile. There’s no way for me to smile. I’m not happy, nor am I sad.
“This is the job, Ivanov. You know this.”
Slavik forced a smile to his lips and gently bowed, before stepping back. He was pissed off, but I didn’t care. There was no reason for us to have a polite conversation.
Staring across the church, I notice the MC are getting antsy. I totally understand. I’m tempted to glance down at the time, but I don’t do that either. I refuse to show any kind of weakness.
Where the fuck was Charlotte? I refuse to call her Lottie. It’s not her name. It sounded childish to me, like someone couldn’t be bothered to say her actual name. I also notice Ivan Volkov is nowhere to be found. There was only one other place for him to be and that meant he was with my soon-to-be bride. Why? Charlotte was not an important person. She’d been handed to us and even encouraged by her father to be killed. He wanted her dead. Ivan, like always, had other plans. In the beginning, she had put up a fight, being quite violent as she attempted to make a break for it. Her body was no match for the bars of my cages.
Unlike some ofmy other prisoners, I had fed Charlotte. At first, she refused to eat. My staff also couldn’t go into her prison or any room I placed her, as she often found ways of escaping, so it had been left to me.
Of course, on my country property, where I’d taken her, there had been no place for her to run. My grounds were secured tight. I had cameras everywhere, with access to them, twenty-four seven. It had been easy to find her. Every single time.
When I’d started to take her food, she hadn’t beenable to escape. Her tricks didn’t work on me. Each time she attempted to faint, I’d closed the door, locked it, and placed the food on the table. She’d refuse to eat, and I was okay with that. I sat and waited until she ate the food. Between the two of us, she got incredibly bored fast. Not me. I found her behavior interesting.
She didn’t go crazy being alone or locked up. I had a feeling I knew why, but I never approached the subject. Charlotte was not there to make friends. Ivan Volkov suddenly enteredthe main church and walked down the aisle. His jacket was buttoned up and his strides were purposeful. He nodded at some people, before approaching me and Slavik.
“Has she run?” I asked. I hoped she had. She wouldn’t get far, but for a tiny hour or so, I might get my freedom back.
“No, she is ready. Rage is bringing her down. Cassie, her sister, will be entering the main aisle soon.”
I stared at Ivan. Something was off about him. Different. I wasn’t exactly sure what it was, but he didn’t seem like himself. I wanted to ask him if everything was okay, but now was not the time.
The church went silent and Ivan moved into position as did Slavik. Victor Abdulov and Peter Orlov, along with Andrei Belov, were also present at my wedding. All of Ivan’s remaining brigadiers. Oleg Pavlov was gone. Not that I ever liked that manipulating son of a bitch. He was the one brigadier Ivan placed, that I couldn’t stand.
If I was being truthful, I didn’t like any ofthem, but Oleg had been the one I couldn’t stand. Part of me had known he’d become a traitor, and I’d been proven right. He’d been the one I would have taken the war to if Ivan had died. As it was, Ivan wasn’t dead, Oleg was, and until Ivan picked a sixth brigadier, he and the remaining five of us had been dealing with Oleg’s business deals and assets. Everything he had been or hoped to be was neatly wrapped up for us to claim for the Volkov Bratva.
Cassie entered the main church, followed quicklyby Aurora and Adelaide. The last two were Slavik and Andrei’s wives. They were dressed as bridesmaids. Other than Cassie, Charlotte didn’t have anyone else to be a bridesmaid. She had no friends, nothing.
Ivan had asked Aurora and Adelaide, and the two women had agreed. They hadn’t even met Charlotte. No one had. She’d been in my country home the entire time Ivan organized this wedding. I could only imagine he used a wedding planner, otherwise, he did this all himself.
With the bridesmaids across from me, it was time to bring my bride.
I spotted Rage. He sported his leather cut. Ivan had insisted on it being a tuxedo affair, but like all the Evil Savages MC, they hadn’t listened to Ivan. That was their first mistake. Rage was in charge of the club, but there would be consequences for not following Ivan’s orders.
Charlotte’s face washidden behind a veil. She held onto Rage’s arm. I did notice the tightness of her grip. The dress she wore was beautiful. The veil came to below her chin, but the dress had no straps. The bodice was molded to her like a corset, wrapping around her tits, gliding down her waist, and ending at her hips. It gave the illusion of a tiny waist.
Charlotte was not a small woman. Trust me, I knew. The few times I’d caught up with her, she’d gone limp in my arms, attempting to drag me down and stop me from taking her back to my home. She was not light.
She possessed curves, and when she wasn’t trying to starve herself, she also had quite a bit of an appetite. I’m not going to lie, I enjoyed watching her eat. It was a pleasure I didn’t think I’d enjoy but I did.
Rage got her close and I took the few steps down, waiting for him to place her hand within mine. Ivan insisted we follow tradition. Rage was not Charlotte’s father, but with how he’d fought for her and turned against his original MC President, he was the closest thing she had to a father. I didn’t trust him.
He lifted her veil and I saw the tears in her eyes. Rage hesitated. He held her hands and I tensed up, waiting.
No one should have guns at the church, but everyone had a way of sneaking them inside. I had one strapped to my leg. I also had three knives inside my trousers. I never went anywhere without being prepared.
Rage placed her handin mine, but I knew he didn’t want to. As for Charlotte, she shook. I expected her to put up a fight, but she surprised me. I moved her up the steps and she followed. It was then I noticed her feet were bare. She didn’t wear any heels. I wanted to ask her why, but now was not the time.
The music came to a stop and a priest started his sermon. I drowned out the noise because I wasn’t interested. There was a time I did have faith and believed in a higher power. It had taken years for that belief to be stripped from me, but it had, and now, I ignored the words. They meant nothing. They were nothing.
Neither of us had written vows and when the time came to recite them, Ivan stepped in and whispered against the priest’s ear, and the priest’s face went bright red. I didn’t know what Ivan said, but it was enough to make the priest blush. I had to stifle a laugh.
He asked the question about anyone objecting to the marriage and part of me wanted Rage to scream out, to tell them that he did, that he didn’t want us to get married. My wedding would end in a bloodbath, and I so wanted to kill someone.
Nothing. No one said a word.
“You may kiss the bride.”
Now there was a whimper. The sound was subtle but I heard it. Charlotte looked terrified.
Tough. She had to kiss me.
Lottie
“You may now kiss the bride.”
This is so not fair.
I’m eighteen years old and forced into a marriageI don’t want. My husband, Ive Yahontov, looked pissed off. I was not surprised. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that he didn’t want to get married. Neither did I. Why did he have to glare at me?
I wish I’d worn the heels. I’m ashort person. I’ve been small all my life so a lot of people tower over me. The shoes had hurt my feet. I’d only worn them for a few minutes, but I wasn’t used to wearing heels. I liked my sneakers. They made running a lot easier. I wish I had sneakers. I wish my life had been different. No, that wasn’t true, I wish I had never been fucking born. If I’d died on that day instead of my mother, there would have been no life to worry about. No panicking when my dad had one of his anger issues to deal with.