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“Language, my dear,” Maranzano smirked. “First of all, your brother doesn’t rule the country. I can come and go as I please. Secondly, I always know where you are. How else? A husband should be aware of his wife’s whereabouts, don’t you agree?”
“Husband? Good God, you are completely insane. It seems you’ve lost the last of your marbles, Maranzano.” She pointed to the car in the driveway. “I suggest you hit the road. Since Andrei is too polite to say it, I will. You’re not welcome here.”
“Let me spell it out for you, my dear. I came here to fetch my wife home, and I’m not leaving without you.”
“Since we’re reciting the ABCs, let me reciprocate.” Vanya leaned forward and all but spat into his face. “I’m not your fucking wife! I wouldn’t marry you, even if I were passed out.”
A pained look crossed his face. “Funny you should say that since you were so drunk that night, I believe you actually were out cold… on your feet.” With a flourish, he held out a document and a photograph. “But seeing as you require proof…”
Vanya’s fingers trembled from the anger surging through her as she stared at the marriage certificate. Her signature was scrawled boldly and in black at the bottom next to Maranzano’s. The picture was taken in front of Chiesa della Badia di Sant’Agata, a Catholic church in Catania, Italy. The priest standing next to them smiled broadly. No doubt, with his pocket full of cash in payment for performing the unethical ceremony. From all counts, it appeared to have been late at night since there were no people walking around in the background of the photo.
“Before you say it, I assure you the photo is authentic. If you still don’t believe me, I’ll personally take you to the church to inspect the notation of the marriage in their registry.” His eyes turned glacial. “You are my wife, Vanya. Legal and binding.”
“This is bullshit! There’s no way I would’ve…” Her voice drifted off as flashes of burning candles and a drone of a church choir singing ran through her mind like the reel of a vintage movie. “Fuck me,” she mumbled under her breath. They had gone to dinner, and the more she thought about it, the more she realized she hadn’t drunk that much that night, apart from two glasses of wine during the meal. It was after that her memory became fuzzy, but she did recall going to the church.
“Ah, so there it is. You do remember,” Luciano boasted as he read the realization on her face.
“I didn’t…” She looked at Andrei. His expression had turned thunderous, and she was hard-pressed not to take back a step. “It’s not what you think.” He shook off the hand she placed on his arm.
“What I think is that you should do as your husband says and leave with him. Neither one of you is welcome in my house.”
“Isus Hristos, Andrei! Just listen to me.”
“Oh, in case you’re wondering, Andrei, there’s no chance of annulling the wedding. We consummated it that evening… many times, I might add.”
“You fucking liar! It’s not… Andrei, for fuck’s sake, don’t look at me like that. It’s not… just listen to me! He—”
“I’m done listening. Just get the fuck out of my house.”
Vanya took a breath but swallowed the protest as she noticed the flash of victory in Luciano’s eyes. However, that wasn’t why she stopped trying to make Andrei understand what had happened. Three things happened to sway the choices she had. First, she now knew without any doubt that he had drugged her that night. Second was the reflection of her mother in the glass panel of the door heading their way, and the most important was the emotion that Luciano couldn’t hide in time… one of pure hatred as he held out his hand.
“Come, my dear. It’s time we left.”
Whatever Maranzano was after, this was part of a well-laid-out plan. The victory of cutting Andrei down by taking what once was his wasn’t his main purpose for coming here. Nor was the desire to have her as his wife. He had something much worse in mind—not only for her but for her entire family.
He might have been Arian and Vadim’s best friend, but Andrei had been right all along to not trust him.
Luciano Maranzano wasn’t who he claimed to be. The only way she could find out what was behind his scheme was to play along. At least she had the advantage of knowing he was up to something evil. It would stand in her stead, since the bastard had no idea she was onto him. Another movement in the glass reflection spurred her to action. If there was one thing that would jeopardize the outcome of this night, it would be Luciano knowing Zafira was also there.
“Very well.” With a well-aimed elbow slamming into his gut, Vanya pushed Luciano out of the way and walked toward the car. She took utmost pleasure at the sound of him wheezing for breath. “Well? Are you coming, my dear husband?” she called over her shoulder.
“Aren’t you going to fetch your luggage first?” Luciano watched her with a puzzled expression. He had clearly not expected her to give in so easily.
The smile Vanya flashed at him was as bright as the midday sun. “Why bother? I’ve got a filthy rich husband now. You’ll just have to buy everything I need.” Jutting out one hip, she looked at him with her hands planted on her waist. “Well? Let’s get the hell out of here.” She cast a debilitating look at the man watching her with a closed expression. “There’s nothing here that holds my interest anymore.”
Vanya refused to give in to the heartache that Andrei had so readily believed she would willingly have married a man while she was mourning his death. Not even drunk or high on drugs would she have been that stupid or heartless.
Andrei should know her well enough to realize that.
Perhaps she had been the one fooling herself all this time. What she had believed was love was nothing other than a phantom faerie tale. Maybe she was the one who didn’t know him. The man she had believed him to be would’ve given her a second chance. He would have seen through the broken pieces of half-truths and realized that hurt and insecurities were what drove the wrong choices she had made along the way.
Except he didn’t… he chose to cut her off.
Da, Vanya, don’t forget. He did so long before that fateful day that he was shot. He’s the one who doesn’t deserve your pain.
Cursing herself for not calling Arian and telling him where she and Zafira were, she got in the car. Since Andrei didn’t believe her and clearly didn’t trust her anymore, she was on her own.
Like always, she didn’t waver in the face of the danger the man getting into the car presented. Luciano Maranzano might be a cruel Sicilian mobster, but he had just made a serious error in judgment.
