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Andrei wouldn’t have any choice but to cancel the wedding, and I thought I’d get him to cancel a couple more till he changed his mind and decide that marrying me wasn’t the best course of action.
I peered straight at him as he climbed down the stairs. His face had no expression and for some reason, my stomach knotted in fear. I’d acted rashly. I’d given in to my impulsive thoughts without thinking of the possible consequences of doing so.
Was Andrei going to hurt me? I knew he was capable of doing it but was he going to kill me?
My heart started racing in my chest, but I tried not to show it. I couldn’t let him see how intimidated he’d made me feel.
“Pick it up.” His was serious and terrifying. The bass in it made it even more intimidating than the scowl growing on his face.
I swallowed. “No.”
“Haven’t I told you, malysh? No one says no to me.”
“Well, I’m not sorry things are no longer that way for you.”
Andrei barred his teeth and raked his hand through his hair, exasperated. “Do it while I’m being nice.”
I knew he was furious, but something in me pushed me to test him further. I wanted to drive him over the edge and see how far his anger could go. “No.”
Andrei spun around with speed, grabbed my neck, and before I could register what was happening, I was pinned against the wall.
Was he going to hit me? I scoffed. I’d gotten used to being beaten up, this was nothing.
Andrei didn’t hit me, but he did something worse. He slid his hand beneath my dress and started to tease my clitoris.
It was so good I wanted to moan, but I didn’t, I couldn’t let him know I was enjoying his torture. I didn’t want to encourage his behavior.
“When I tell you to do something, you do it.” He removed his hand and moved away from me. “Dress up and come outside if you don’t wish to be shipped to Mario instead.”
***
Exactly an hour later, I was dressed in a white dress that looked like it had decayed in a trash can. It was ripped all over and I was so pale, I looked like the corpse bride.
The damn dress wasn’t even decent enough to cover my shame.
Truthfully, I’d thought I’d seen Maria smile mockingly at me when I climbed down the stairs, but I’d been imagining it. I honestly wouldn’t blame her if she laughed though, I looked horrible and this fucking thing on my body was laughable. I would’ve laughed if I wasn’t the one getting married in rags.
I hadn’t worn this dress because I was afraid of Andrei, I’d worn it because, for some reason, I preferred being Andrei’s hostage rather than Mario’s animal.
Andrei smiled at me when I reached the patio, and I rolled my eyes at him. I wondered if he knew how much I wanted to play Russian roulette with my pistol pointed at his head. The fucker probably knew, but he definitely underestimated me.
Ego was a common disease with men in our world. They thought too highly of themselves and too little of women.
They always learned from their mistakes, but it was almost always too late when they did.
A white-haired priest stood at the end of the patio. He looked way into his sixties, and I could see he was struggling really hard not to look at me.
“You look charming,” Andrei said, mocking me with his eyes.
I looked him over from head to toe. “You look terrible,” I muttered. He didn’t. If anything, he looked so good that my gaze lingered on him longer than I wanted it to.
His black suit struggled to contain his large shoulders and he looked really good in it. If I didn’t hate him as much as I did, I would’ve even gone ahead to call him ‘handsome.’
He smelled so good too and I wanted to close my eyes and take in his rosewood smell.
“Is this her?” the priest asked. I could pick up the Russian in his accent and he was looking at me like I was a sinner he was ready to condemn to death.
Andrei dipped his head in a nod.
