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“I’m glad to hear it,” Luca says, glancing away as Liam Macgregor’s arrival interrupts the conversation. “Alone again?” he asks with a laugh, as Liam takes his seat and looks out over the balcony towards the stage.
“Aye,” Liam says, his thick Irish brogue warming the room. “Perhaps your wife will have a lass or three she might be able to introduce me to after the show?” He winks at Luca, who frowns.
“Shouldn’t you be looking for a wife and not a threesome?” Luca asks disapprovingly, and Liam lets out a deep belly laugh, loud enough that several other patrons in the audience look over at our group with an expression similar to the one on Luca’s face.
“Ah, marriage has made you dull, aye?” Liam grins. “I remember the days when your exploits with women were the talk of the Northeast, from Jersey all the way down past Boston. A threesome was a slow night in your heyday, or so I hear.”
“I’m a married man now,” Luca says with a laugh, loosening up a little. “Devoted to one woman, and all of that.”
“And quite a woman she is.” Liam leans over, glancing towards Viktor. “I hope you’re taking care of this princess, too? Quite a treasure Luca’s entrusted you with.”
I don’t miss the warning in his voice, and I’m reminded of the wedding when Liam made it clear to me that he wouldn’t tolerate any mistreatment of me on Viktor’s part.
The tension between Viktor and Liam is palpable as Viktor’s eyes narrow. “I think my marriage is none of your business, Irishman.Aye?” I can hear his accent thicken as he speaks, and to my absolute shame, I can feel my skin flush, that shiver running down my spine again.
I don’twantto want him,I think desperately, and I hope that no one else can see the flush on my cheeks or that if they do, they attribute it to how warm it is in the concert hall.
Which, admittedly, isn’t very.
“Not tryin’ to start a fight,” Liam says, raising his hands good-naturedly. “Just making sure that Caterina is safe, that’s all. We all know what you Bratva are capable of.”
I can feel Viktor’s rising anger next to me, and my heartbeat quickens in my chest, anxiety rising.I wish he’d just let me come alone,I think miserably. I wanted to enjoy tonight, to have a night out in Manhattan, see my best friend play at her first public performance, and try to have a moment of peace and happiness. Viktor insisted on coming along, and now I can feel the rising tension between him and Liam.
“Enough,” Luca says tersely, and I can feel the air rush out of me like a pricked balloon. “We’re here for Sofia, not to fight. Caterina is fine, I’m sure?”
He turns his gaze on me, and I can feel the weight of it. Now would be the moment to speak up, to express any fears or unhappiness I have, but there’s nothing I can say. Here is hardly the place, and besides, the only complaint I could muster is that I don’t like being married to Viktor—which is no surprise. He hasn’t harmed me, and my fears about him being complicit or responsible for the death of his wife are just those—fears. I have no proof, no real reason to think that.
“I’m fine,” I say quietly. “Viktor and I are adjusting to married life.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” Liam says, but I can tell he doesn’t entirely believe me. His voice is taut, mirroring the rigid set of Viktor’s shoulders, but he leans back in his seat as the lights flicker and our attention turns to the stage.
My heart aches for a different reason when the audience lights dim and the stage lights brighten, and I see Sofia walking out to take her seat with the rest of the strings. I remember all too well when she’d thought that marriage to Luca meant she’d never play again, that the part of her life she’d worked so hard for was gone forever. And it’s surprising to everyone. A wife of a high-ranking mafia member doing something like this is almost unheard of. But despite his firm hand with everyone else, it’s clear that Luca is madly in love with Sofia now—that he’d give her just about anything to make her happy. And I’m happy for her, even if I am a little bit jealous.
Viktor doesn’t bother to hold my hand through the concert. He sits ramrod stiff next to me, his jaw set, and I wonder if we’ll end up having a fight tonight after we leave.
I don’t want to. But I know that what Idowant, right now, is something I shouldn’t have. I let myself imagine, just for a moment, that we’re happy tonight. That Viktor is holding my hand, his calluses warm against my skin, that we’re going to laugh together later tonight and have drinks at some swanky Manhattan bar and then make out in the back of the car on the way home, stumbling into the house and trying not to wake the girls as we make our way to our bedroom, ripping off clothes as we go.
It’s a ridiculous, even childish fantasy. Viktor and I don’t have that kind of marriage—in fact, I’m not sure I would believe thatanyonedoes, if not for Sofia and Luca.She got lucky,I tell myself as I sneak a glance at Viktor while the music swells, my chest constricting. Things could have gone so very differently for them. Luca hadn’t wanted a wife or children. The connection they’d had that had turned a burden into a love story was one in a million.
There’s no way that’s in the cards for me. And imagining it, fantasizing about it, is only going to make it so much harder to live the life I actually have.
I close my eyes, trying to let the music sink in, to let it soothe me. But I can’t lose the awareness of Viktor right next to me, the presence of him, this man that I’m now married to and will lie next to tonight, and every night after that.
I tried with Franco.I’d tried to be happy, tried to make it as real of a marriage as it could be. And hasn’t Viktor shown himself to be a better man than Franco, in so many ways? Even if he is Bratva, he hasn’t hurt me. He hasn’t even really threatened me, beyond the reminder of what could happen if the contract between families is broken.
It could be so much worse. Iknowhow much worse it could be. And there’s a small part of me that thinks I shouldn’t be fighting so hard to keep as much distance as I can between Viktor and me.
