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“Excuse us. I have to finish giving my bride the tour.”
“I’m not marrying you.” I push against his chest.
He grips me close and snarls, “Yes, you are. I don’t care if you hate me right now. I will accept nothing less.”
Letting go of his harsh grip, he continues his tour. I’m silent as he leads me around, stopping finally in his office. It’s beautiful and everything a badass mafia boss would have, which makes sense. Nothing about Roman ever screamed underling.
He sits in his chair behind his desk, dragging me onto his lap. “I have something terrible to do, but first, I need to give you this….”
Unable to look at him, my attention is drawn to the desk, where I see the watch that belonged to my brother. I might not have loved him, but this is cruel. “You stole his watch off his cold body.” I jump off his lap, snatch it off the desk, and run. Roman’s on me in a second, slamming my body up against the door.
He takes the watch from me and looks at the glass cover. It’s cracked. Fury fills his eyes, and he steps back like he’s holding it in, and I’m about to feel the abuse he promised I wouldn’t.
He steps back and stares into my eyes. There’s something missing in his gaze when he says, “You’ve got what you wanted, Princess. The wedding is off.”
Turning his body to make sure he doesn’t touch me, Roman yanks the door open and storms out of the room. I’m standing there, looking confused, as several men around quickly step out of his way.
He left the house without another word to me, but he said something to them in Russian.
“Come on, Miss Volchek. Time to go back to your room.” Ivan leads me upstairs as several other men leave the house, including Alek. Whatever is going to happen, I hope he’s going to be okay.
They open the door, and all the clothes are still in messy piles on the bed and floor. My head is reeling with emotions. To keep them occupied, I fold them and put them back in the bags so they can be taken back. Curling up, I sit in the chair in the corner, refusing food that has been brought up to me several times throughout the day. I’ve lost my appetite and so much more.
Chapter Six
Roman
I can’t stay in the house a moment more before snapping. Getting ahold of Vlad is the only thing that will heal this ache in my chest. Everything wrong in my world is his doing, and nothing can be fixed until he’s destroyed.
My head is back in the house and with Katya. I never meant to slam her up against the door like that. I hadn’t physically hurt Katya, but I broke my father’s watch, and I scared the fuck out of her.
“Where are you going? Have you lost your mind? You’re not marrying her anymore?” Alek asks me as he jumps into the passenger seat. It’s not smart just for me to run out of the house when I have an enemy eager to do me in. Still, I’m a man of action, and sitting on my hands isn’t going to cut it.
“She doesn’t want to marry me, and there’s no way I’ll force her. She’s right. You were right. I’m no better than her father, and I’ve proven that.”
“You’re not that asshole. If you had seen the look on her face as you left, it had nothing to do with whatever happened in the room.” I hadn’t bothered to turn around, too afraid to see what I’d done.
I press my forehead to the steering wheel, knowing I’ve fully lost my mind and heart. “I can’t let her go.” The words leave my lips with so much pain.
“I know. You’re in love with her, and it’s inconvenient that she’s his daughter, but she’s a treasure, and you know it. Let’s get this stress out, handle some business, and go back home so you can start to mend the issues between the two of you.”
“Stop being the asshole of reasoning.” I turn on the engine, and we speed out of the estate at a rapid speed.
He buckles up with a grin. “A new title. I’ll take it, so where are we going?”
“To take off some heads. I’m feeling violent right now, and I have Volchek in my sights. I’ve had enough of these games.”
“We should call in some reinforcements. They’re not far behind us.” I know they wouldn’t just leave me to my own devices, given the current climate.
We go hunting for Volchek’s men, but they’ve scattered like the vermin they are. Abram Petrov’s place is my next stop. He’s hiding with Volchek, so I want it torn apart, learning everything I can about his involvement with Volchek. We arrive at his rundown hovel in town and find it’s already been ransacked. “What the hell? I didn’t order this.”
“Maybe he has more enemies than you.” Pressing the on the dash, I call Petrov to find out who has it in for his cousin.
“At least it’s a reasonable hour,” he mutters as he answers the line. “What’s up, Roman?”
“Your cousin’s place was ransacked. Who else is gunning for the prick?”
“Do you have time for a list? The Crimea Bratva in Omsk is just one who he owes money, and there’s the Popov Bratva in Moscow, that he pulled a quick one on. He’s got his ticket punched, and there’s nothing I can do. Fucking bastards have already contacted me looking for payment, but I didn’t agree to shit,” he scoffs.
