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Vlad’s face glowers as I stand still, frozen to the spot.
“Whatever for?” My father says, looking from Vlad to Aleksi, perplexed. “He is her future husband, he needs to know what has been going on.”
“And he will in good time,” Aleksi replies. “But that isn’t now, Dimitri, Maxim…”
They move forward, and Dimitri taps Vlad on the shoulder.
I keep my expression vacant, but inside I am rejoicing.
Fuck you, Vlad.
“Katiya!” he growls, pushing Dimitri’s hand away. “I need to speak with you.”
I shake my head. “I’m tired, Vlad. We can talk later.”
My father is incensed. “Katiya, you will speak with Vlad this instant. He’s dropped some critical meetings to be here.”
He’s still dressed in his suit. It’s expensive and well cut but he doesn’t compare to Marco in a suit. Of course, Marco would look good wearing a paper bag.
“I said I’m tired,” I reply between gritted teeth.
Aleksi touches me on the elbow to quiet me. This isn’t the uncle I know, not that he’d take sides with my father, they barely speak, but to not shout at me and send me away for answering back is a miracle.
Have I finally gotten through to someone?
I don’t know if it will last, so I keep my eyes on Vlad, not giving him an inch.
Fuck you, asshole.
He stares back, willing me to come to him. Over my dead body, will I ever do that.
We used to be friends. We even made out when we were teenagers, long before my father had his hooks in him. But our friendship changed over the years, and when he started trying to tell me what to do, I stopped having much to do with him.
Then my father thought forcing marriage upon me would be a good idea.
Vladimir did not put up a fight, rather, he welcomed it.
He’s always had this thing for me for as long as I can remember. And this was precisely the outcome he and my father wanted.
He has always had this distinct disregard for women. None of my friends like him, and that’s telling.
Yet, he’s everything a well-bred Russian man should be.
Well to-do.
His family is prominent.
He has ambition, drive, and ruthlessness; the very thing needed to succeed with my side of the family.
Yet, there is no warmth from him.
Even alone with him, when he has tried to kiss me and more, he’s proved every time that he’s a Russian man who demands, not wants me.
He expects me to come to him, his Russian virgin who can never hold or love another man except him.
Well, at least there’s one thing I’ll never give him; my body.
I’ll never love him.
