79

Maria
I hate him. I have to if I want to survive. I don’t dare look at Mikhail or I’ll weaken. If I do, I’ll try to find something decent in him worth hanging on to. My mind will spin his bad behavior into something good. I’ll argue his savage behavior is evidence that he really does love me. I can’t do that. I have to keep my head together and ignore my own fickle feelings. Fucking baby hormones.
Mikhail lets me go and I rub my wrist, though it doesn’t hurt. Maybe it’s childish, but I want to rub the feeling of him off me. I toss the phone onto the desk, ashamed when I stare at the desktop, and instantly, I remember what we did there as if seeing it all again.
I’m still reeling from everything that happened. The gunshot and then my dad’s voice.
“Ippolit is dead, and I’m coming for you.”
The relief when I heard his voice was immense, but it quickly turned to dread. As long as I’m captive, my dad will retaliate against Mikhail and the Ivanov Bratva. And I know there’s only one way it can end.
I stand awkwardly, unsure of what to do. I want to confront Mikhail, but I’m afraid of provoking his temper. “Why did you come get me yourself?” I ask. “Why not send one of your goons?”
Mikhail’s jaw tightens. “Because I needed to make sure that you were safe. I needed to see it with my own eyes.”
“You were concerned for my well-being?” I ask dubiously. “Bullshit.”
His eyes flash with annoyance. “Despite what you may think, Maria, I don’t actually want to see you harmed.”
I’m taken aback by this admission. I thought he didn’t care at all anymore. A little battered and bruised was acceptable as long as I remained in one piece.
Mikhail heads straight for the liquor cart. He pours himself a generous glass of vodka and downs it. He rubs his hand over his face and suddenly looks exhausted. The stress of everything shows in his eyes. A twinge of sympathy races through me before I harden myself again.
“My father is alive.” I look hard into his eyes. “I won’t call him on that phone. You’ll have to find another way to track him down.”
Mikhail’s cool gaze slices into me and knots my gut. Does he regret losing this chance to kill my dad? And when will Dad, I mean … Zakhar Budanov … try again? I’m split between two men at war with each other. I don’t know who to trust or what’s right anymore.
Mikhail’s voice is low, almost melodic, but his words give me a jolt. “I’ve spoken to your father, Maria.”
“When?” My eyes widen. “No, you couldn’t have.”
“Not directly,” he replies arrogantly. “But he knows what will happen to you if he betrays the Bratva again.”
I back away from Mikhail, and his threat renews my determination. He ordered the murder of my dad and failed. But all that means is he’ll try again.
“I won’t help you,” I blurt out.
“I don’t need you to help me.” Mikhail picks up the phone and hands it to me. “I need you safe. Keep it on at all times, Maria.”
I don’t like that he’s telling me the truth. “Why would I need a phone if I’m to be kept captive in my bedroom?” I ask.
“You’re not a captive. There will be a wedding,” he says. “And as my wife, you will become an active member of the Bratva.”
I fold my arms over my chest to ward off a shaking chill. “Even when everyone knows my father is a traitor?”
His voice softens as he approaches. “But you aren’t.”
Mikhail’s hand touches me gently this time and his fingers stroke my arm, leaving chills behind. I can’t let him trick me into falling in love. I can’t want him. It will hurt my father, and hurting him will undo me. I spin around quickly to face him, taking my arm out of his grasp.
“I want to know who killed my mother,” I say bluntly.
Mikhail’s shoulders tense. “Why?”
“Am I not allowed to know? Don’t you think I deserve to know?” I look away, knowing I can ask but won’t get an answer.
Mikhail whispers. “It was a long time ago, Maria.”
“So what?” I reply angrily. “You’re not the only one out for revenge! Maybe my father would end his vendetta if her killer was dead. The same way you want Desmier’s killer dead!”
His expression darkens, but I know I’ve touched a nerve.
Mikhail looks away, and I’m able to take a breath. He walks away and sits down on a couch in front of the latest acquisition. The De Kooning is gone, replaced with the chrysanthemum painting by Kaori-the same one that we looked at together before I found out what kind of monster he is.
Bitterness rises in my throat, and it comes out in sharp words. “Well?”
He glances over at me. “You don’t need to know.”
“I know your brigadiers had a hand in it,” I press on. “But I want to know which one.”
His eyebrow rises as he stares at me, assessing how I might know. I wait for him to react, but Mikhail returns his attention to the painting as if I had said nothing.
I watch him, tears burning behind my eyes. “I learned a lot about you while I was gone.”
“Then you don’t need me to find out for you,” he replies slowly. “You’re capable of doing this all by yourself.”
His callous phrasing makes bile burn my throat. I want to scream at him, but I hold it in. “They bragged about it to me,” I reply bitterly. “Told me everything except who pulled the trigger.”
“Knowing won’t help you.” Mikhail stares at the painting harder. “Let it go, Maria. You have other things to focus on.”
My hands fly to my stomach and that’s a careless mistake. I try my best to play it off, as if I only did it because I was upset. It’s only then I remember I haven’t eaten all day.
Thankfully, my stomach growls, helping me keep my secret.
Mikhail stands swiftly and crosses the room toward me. Gripping my shoulders, he guides me gently over to a couch. I choose to sit on the one not facing Kaori’s painting. He taps his phone and then speaks. “Bring a small meal to my office, not for me.” He hesitates. “For Ms. Rostova.”
Ms. Rostova …
He won’t dare link my name to my father’s, a traitor. Mikhail plans to scrub it all away as if my dad never existed, but we never planned this engagement to be together. He said it was to protect me when it was really to lure my father out into the open. Why should Mikhail go through with it? Why should he care what the Bratva thinks of me?
“I’m not hungry,” I lie.
He glares at me. “Of course you are. You will eat.”
I’m safe as long as I don’t leave the penthouse, and being safe allows me to worry about other things like eating and bathing. Deep down, I was relieved to see Mikhail, and I’m starting to believe he will protect me no matter the circumstances.
“You want revenge for your brother, but I’m not allowed to seek it for my mother.” I stare at the floor. “All you have to do is give a name to my father. And all of this would be over.”
His throat bobs. “Your father still has his betrayal to answer for.”
The conversation and the hunger are weakening me. I wipe a tear away quickly. “My father wants to right a wrong. Just like you.”
“He went against the Bratva,” he replies fiercely.
“By marrying a woman he shouldn’t have.” I stand up. “Like you.”
Mikhail stares at me. He knows that I’m right, but he can’t acknowledge it. I wonder why my father and mother married. Was it because she was pregnant? Did she find herself in the same situation that I’m in now? But I can return home, right?
Dad would help me raise Mikhail’s child.
Or would he …
I shudder, realizing that I don’t know anymore.
Is this why Mikhail is so determined to marry me? Not for love, but as a shield against my own father?
“I’ll never be a part of the Bratva if my mother’s killer isn’t punished,” I tell him. “You talk about family and honor, but only when it suits you. My mother’s life mattered just as much as your brother’s.”
Mikhail’s eyes flash with anger. And for a moment, I think he might actually strike me. But he merely steps closer, using his height to intimidate me, willing me to back down.
But I don’t. I’m tired of backing down.
“I still have a loyalty to the Bratva,” he says coldly. “Not to your father’s personal vendetta. The lives of our members will always be taken more importantly over outsiders.”
Even though his words aren’t surprising, they still cut deeply. My only value is still tied to my dad’s actions.
“So that’s it? I don’t get to know?” I ask bitterly.
Mikhail steps closer. “You’re in my world, and you play by my rules.”
I hold his burning gaze unflinchingly. “And what if I don’t want to be part of your world anymore?”
Mikhail clasps my chin between his thumb and forefinger. “There are worse things that could happen to you than to be here.”
His possessiveness sends a thrill down my spine even as his words disgust me. I jerk away, hating my body’s traitorous response to his touch.
Wound up, I turn away from him and make a silent vow to my mother’s memory and my unborn child that I’ll protect my family.
No matter what it takes. Even if it means destroying the man I love.