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This is a horrible idea. I want to sink into myself, but I can’t. It won’t do me any good and Pavel will accuse me of being too meek.
“Calla,” Nikolai’s voice is gentle as he points to the youngest man, “this is Viktor. Your soon to be husband.”
I offer Viktor a small smile and his blue-gray eyes look me over like he’s trying to find every one of my weaknesses. Something about the way his eyes turn flinty tells me that he’s not impressed by me. Pavel won’t be happy about that.
It will all be my fault. He’ll say I didn’t dress nicely enough or didn’t put on enough make-up. That I should have shown more skin, maybe. Or I didn’t smile like I should have. Or. Or. Or.
As I take a deep breath, I hold in a grimace. “Hello, Viktor,” my voice comes out raspier than it normally does, my nerves getting the better of me even though I’m trying to hold it together.
It feels like there’s a tug on my soul, one I don’t understand. Does he feel it too? Can something good come out of this arrangement?
Viktor gives me a nod but doesn’t say a word. He doesn’t need to. Everything he could say is wrapped up in that one motion.
He hates that he’s marrying me. He’s not impressed with me at all. He wishes he could be anywhere else. A hollow feelingstarts to take over in the center of my chest and I know I’m alone in feeling a pull between us. Fucking great.
Anger flares inside of me because I’m right here with him, but he’s looking at me like he blames me for our current situation. Being forced into this marriage is the last fucking thing I want in this world. Being tied to more crime, more violence, more shady dealings is the farthest thing from the dreams I have for my future.
And yet.
And fucking yet.
Nikolai throws Viktor a sharp look, but his eyes soften slightly when he looks at me. He points to the other two men in the room, introducing them in order. “That is Ivan, he’s my right-hand man and the second born Orlov brother.” I give Ivan a small nod and he grins at me in return, not caring about showing some emotion in front of my brother and the other men in the room. It gives me pause and makes me wonder what kind of man he is. “That is Sergei, he’s the third brother in birth order. He’s in charge of security and takes his job very seriously.”
There’s something about Nikolai’s tone as he informs the room about Sergei’s job that makes me wonder if those words are for me or Pavel. My brother won’t take kindly to veiled threats and my palms start to get clammy.
He won’t like this whole interaction. They haven’t paid him nearly enough attention. My gut twists up in knots at the idea of him taking out the perceived slights on me as soon as he can.
Pavel’s voice holds barely restrained violence, “When can we get this done?”
The Orlov men bristle at my brother’s tone, and I lower my eyes, not wanting to see the display in front of me. I allow my mind to go somewhere else, anywhere else. I remember days when I would play under father’s desk with dolls, and he would call me his princess.
I was always a daddy’s girl. I loved my mother, don’t get me wrong. She was the one who took care of me when I was sick and made sure I got my favorite meals on my birthday. Her eyes always sparkled so brightly when she would look at me.
We shared a love of books and would find ourselves taking adventures through the pages. She taught me that strength comes in many forms and how you sometimes have to pick your battles. I saw the proof of her words in how she dealt with my father.
I wonder if I can have the same kind of influence on my soon to be husband. I hazard a look at Viktor out of the corner of my eye. I almost hate that he’s as handsome as he is. His blue-gray eyes are striking, like stormy seas when the tempest is right on the horizon. His dark hair is slicked back, and his beard is perfectly sculpted along his strong jaw.
He’s wearing a button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. It gives him a vibe that screams he doesn’t give a fuck while still looking put together. I even like the thin rimmed glasses he has on. It gives him a sense of maturity, but it’s obvious that he’s still young.
I know he’s the youngest of the Orlov family and I think I heard he turned 21 this last year. That means we’re the same age. Still, the stress of the last ten months makes me feel so much older than my years.
There are some things we have in common, maybe that will be enough to build a marriage on. We’ve both been born into circumstances beyond our control, in families who devour power. We’ve lost our parents, although he was very young when he lost his from what I know about his family. It makes me wonder if he feels the ache of their loss still.
I’m not sure if it would be better if he does or doesn’t. It would give me hope if he doesn’t because then maybe I’ll get to that place one day too. Or does he not feel their loss because he didn’t have the same chance to know them?
He’s a handsome man even though resentment is pouring off him and makes goosebumps cover my skin. It doesn’t bode well for me and our relationship, even though it’s all arranged. I’m not naïve enough to think love could come out of this, but maybe it could be civil. Wouldn’t that be better for both of us?
Everything in me is screaming to run, to hide, to never be found. It’s too late now.
“I think it would be best for Calla to stay here in Viktor’s wing while we get the wedding preparations done,” Nikolai’s voice holds no room for argument, but I know that won’t stop Pavel.
“That wasn’t part of the agreement,” my brother seethes, unable to read the mood in the room or not caring.
“It is now. It will do the couple good to spend some time together and be able to get to know each other before the wedding. I think we can get everything arranged in two weeks,” Nikolai’s voice has a finality to it, and I know without looking that he’s staring down my brother.
I hope this works. I don’t want to go back to the only home I’ve ever known. It’s been my prison for ten months and I don’t know what will happen to me if I go back there.
“Fine,” Pavel snaps. “But her virtue must remain intact until the wedding night.”
