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Chapter Ten
Icould still smell Sasha’s perfume on my suit as I sat in my office. The delicate floral scent of it was distracting. Normally, when I screwed a woman, I quickly went home and washed the event off of me. Sex was about pleasure and once I had mine, I wasn’t interested in thinking about the experience further.
“What’s wrong with you?” Marco asked. I had called him after dropping Sasha off at the house.
“I just left the Petrov’s,” I told him.
“How are the in-laws?” Marco asked. There was a smug smile on his face as he sat across from me. Marco enjoyed digging the knife in when he talked about my wedding.
“Isaac agreed to hand over some of the more lucrative ports,” I told him. I reached into my jacket pocket, pulling out the deed that Isaac had placed in my hands before I left. I had been so high on my victory that I’d been unable to control myself when I got into the car. I wrinkled my nose as I considered what I had done.
Marco took the papers, his eyes scanned the information, and widened as he read the documents.
“How the fuck did you get these?”
I leaned back in my chair doing the best that I could to seem completely nonchalant. “I threatened to send Sasha to him in pieces if he didn’t give me what I wanted,” I told Marco.
Marco’ eyes went wider. He was against my marriage from the start, especially because he knew that he was the reason I was willing to marry Sasha in the first place. As the only family that I had left, I would do everything in my power to make sure that he was safe, and at the time, I thought making a deal with the devil would do it.
“Do you think that was wise?” he asked.
“Are you questioning if I would do it?” Marco played the role of enforcer. He was my right hand, and that position often got messy. He wasn’t one to shy away from such things, so I wondered why he questioned the threats that I had made to Isaac. Threats that I was more than ready to act upon if Sasha became expandable.
“She’s a Blanchi now,” Marco said. “People would view it as a sign of weakness if you allow your wife to come to some harm.”
“I’d be the one doing the harming,” I reminded him. I could see the distaste cross his face at my words. Generally, we lived by a code. One that had been instilled in us at a young age by our father, which was that women and children were off limits.
“You declared open season on your own wife,” Marco said.
“Isaac isn’t going to say anything to anyone. He gave me the deeds to protect Sasha. He’s not going to want anyone to know that I haven’t extended my protection.”
“Everyone is talking about it,” Marco said.
“What? Why?”
Marco ran a hand through his dark hair. It was clear that my brother didn’t want to talk to me about this. “You haven't been seen with her.”
“So?” Plenty of mob wives and daughters were kept out of the public eye. Sasha had barely been allowed to go out under her father’s roof.
“So, she’s the wife of the Don. She’s not like other women. Ma was always with pa.”
“I thought that it would be best to keep her away from everyone,” I told Marco. “After all, she’s a Petrov.”
It was the one thing that I couldn’t get over. I barely knew Sasha, and I didn’t want to know her. Whenever I looked at Sasha, I saw her family, and the many things that they had taken from me. I couldn’t deny the effect that Sasha had on my body. The smell of her perfume on me reminded me of her tight pussy gripping me as I thrust into her soft, pliable body.
“It doesn’t matter,” Marco said. “She’s your wife, and if you aren’t going to claim her as such, she’s going to find herself in the crosshairs of our enemies as well as her father’s.”
I hated that Marco was right. I had thought that I could marry Sasha, put her in my house, fuck her, and ignore her. When she finally gave me a child, I’d send them off to the burbs and be done with it. But Sasha wasn’t the daughter of some random made man. She was the princess of an empire, and now, it was my responsibility to make sure that she didn’t end up in the hands of any of our enemies.
“Lorenzo’s daughter is getting married this weekend, right?” I asked. I normally didn’t keep track of such things. I had an assistant who tracked my calendar, but I recalled seeing it on my phone when I was pretending to ignore Sasha.
Marco nodded. “Francesca is getting married at the Plaza,” he said. There was a note of irritation in his voice. “Apparently, this is 1980.”
I chuckled. Marco was happy to be part of the family, but unlike me, he didn’t appreciate ostentatious shows of wealth.
“I suppose I have Sasha to thank for not being so cliche,” I muttered. I knew that she hadn’t chosen one single part of our wedding, that had all been her mother, but it seemed like an appropriate thing to say.
“Make sure that you bring her,” Marco said. He got up from his place across from me taking the deeds to the new ports with him. “I’ll check these out.”
