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Vlad is beside the car, pacing as he talks on the phone. He looks like any successful guy dealing with business. But he's also a person who can kill four men without showing the slightest sign that it bothers him. As I draw nearer, he raises his voice, bellowing into his cell.
"Sasha,bratan, just deal with it. I don't wantdyadyaDavid involved. He gets in his head about this stuff, as though I need to complete forms in triplicate before I can murder someone. I'll be in charge soon, so you should get used to doing what you're fucking told."
He gives me a lop-sided grin and opens the passenger door for me. "I'll tell you why later," he says into the phone. "Right now, I want it done.Poymi menya?" He points at the seat and presses his phone to his chest, covering the speaker. "Get in,lisichka. We're going home."
I sit in the car and watch Vlad finish his phone call.
His nonchalance chills me. When he bought my father's debt, he honestly believed he'd bought me too, like there was no other interpretation, and fell back on threats when my father said otherwise.
I had to go with him, or my family would die. I had nothing to negotiate with and no incentive to make him reconsider. He decided he wantedme, and that was it. What was there to discuss?
I'm a magnet for toxic men. Always have been. With a sick mother and a workaholic father, I was a latchkey kid, starved for companionship and attention.
It's no wonder I fell for Jack. He wanted to be at my side every minute, and I ate it up. I swore I'd never fall for that spiel again, but when Hektor came along, I thought he was different.
Now Vlad. This is the man I met just hours ago when I was in danger, and he saved me. Now he's done it again, but it hits differently this time.
My first impressions let me down again. At least I'm going into this with my eyes open.
He's just a bad guy.Nothing else to see.
* * *
We park on Riverside Drive, and my jaw drops.
The property is on the corner, rounded like a tower. It sticks out like aliens beamed up a chunk of a castle and dumped it there.
"This is your house?"
Vlad is unphased. "I'm a billionaire, Morgana. This place will be mine, and it will be yours, too. But you gotta play your part."
His gray eyes seize mine, and I can't look away. He doesn't speak, and the atmosphere is suddenly thick with tension.
"Let me make my expectations perfectly clear," Vlad begins. "I need a wife, and you are gonna take that role. I'm not stupid enough to kill your parents at your first sign of resistance, but I will take them captive if you force my hand. Believe me when I say I'm absolutely fucking serious."
He murdered four people in front of me. Does he think I doubt himnow?
"You need to play along," he says. "It has to look real."
"You threaten my family and steal me away, and you think I can pretend to be in love with you? What kind of Oscar-winning actor do you think I am?"
He grins. "You're fun, Morgana. Most women I meet are just cardboard cutouts. They clamor for my attention or, if they're bratva, they've been raised to have no interests or personality. When we met this morning, you took a liking to me. Since then, I've probably ruined that impression, but you can channel it into your performance."
I want to tell him to fuck himself, but his lips curl, and I have to concede that he's correct. Ididlike him. In fact, I couldn't stop thinking about him.
But Vlad's life is a million times removed from mine. If someone had told me I'd be his fiancé before the day was through, I'd have said they needed their head examined. Does he thinkeveryoneis so shallow that money can paper over the cracks?
My father made so many mistakes. He wanted to secure our future but lost everything. His life was all he had left; from what Vlad said, he would have lost that too. How could that be worth it?
He got desperate. I can't make him suffer even more just because he did the wrong thing for the right reasons.
Vlad couldn't understand that in a million years. He just swept in and took advantage.
"Why are you doing this, anyway?" I ask him. "You must have women falling over themselves to get next to you. Are you such a bastard that your looks don't compensate for your personality?"
I gave myself away a bit there.What iswrongwith me?
Vlad sits back a little, giving me a better view of his broad chest. His shirt is unbuttoned just enough at the neckline for me to see his collarbone, and despite the situation, I'm struck by the image of running my tongue over it.
