With This ring

by Le Carre, Georgia

  Maxim

  I waited for her at a table aboard the restaurant’s ship, docked at Tribeca Piers. In the distance was the city’s skyline and the lit Statue of Liberty. On my table was a glass of Japanese malt whisky.

  Just as I’d expected, she was deliberately late so I quashed the irritation inside me and ordered a refill. I’d give her ten more minutes. Even she wouldn’t dare be later than that. The drink arrived almost instantly and I decided to take the opportunity to relax. The simple rest was unusual for me. I took in the gentle rise and fall of the waters, separated from my table by only the wooden edge of the boat.

  Then I lifted my gaze to the sight of passing boats, yachts, ferries filled with excited tourists taking in as much of the city’s sights as they could. Further in the distance the infamously tall buildings stood majestic, scraping the skies.

  Excited chatter pulled my attention towards a party of exquisitely dressed girls heading towards the bar. They reminded me of a flock of flamingos, decorative and showy. Freya on the other hand was a mustang. Wild and fierce. My phone began to ring and as I picked it up, the flock moved to reveal my flame-colored mustang dressed in all in black. How very dramatic of her.

  “Maxim,” I said into the receiver, as our eyes locked.

  I listened to my call, while she marched up, slammed a document on the table, and glared at me as she waited for me to round up my phone call.

  “Call me back in an hour,” I said into the phone.

  “I agree to the marriage. Here are my terms,” she stated defiantly.

  I picked up the one page document and glanced down it. There were ten items on it. None of them would be agreeable, of course, but one stood out more than the others. I flung the sheet away and it floated up into the air. I watched as her gaze followed the early afternoon wind catch her list of purposely unreasonable demands and carry it to its watery death.

  She smiled and returned her gaze to me. “That’s okay, because I brought another copy … just in case you accidentally lost the other one. And there’s plenty more where this came from too.” She placed another paper on the table and secured it with my phone.

  I held her gaze. Her animosity towards me was impressively fierce. I wondered if a day would come when I would see something soft in those emerald eyes when they settled on me.

  I looked briefly away from her and got my thoughts together. “We cannot have an open marriage … and you definitely cannot have a child with any man you please.”

  Her eyebrows rose. “This is a marriage of convenience. Surely you’re not expecting me to sleep with you?”

  I leaned back against the chair. “Sit down, Freya.”

  For a split second she hesitated. It was clear she hated being told what to do, even if it was something as simple as sitting down in a restaurant. With a tightly clenched jaw she complied.

  “What do you want to drink?” I murmured.

  “I’m not thirsty,” she muttered. “Can you please answer my question?”

  “Not only do I expect you to sleep with me, I expect absolute loyalty from you. Any man who touches you will find himself in the same place as your list of ridiculous terms.”

  “You expect loyalty while you fuck around to your heart’s content?” she snapped.

  I frowned. “Of course not. I will honor our marriage vows.”

  She exhaled sharply. “Look. I’m going to be honest with you. I don’t want to marry you, Maxim. There is no way any union with us in it will work. Anyway what kind of man would want to marry a woman who doesn’t want him? Can’t you see what a terrible mistake it would be?”

  “The terrible mistake would be if we did not get married because of your childish and ridiculous insistence that you want to have the ability to go to the zoo without bodyguards. People who are born without limbs learn to paint with a brush held between their teeth. You will simply have to learn to work within the boundaries you have been born into, which mean bodyguards at the zoo.”

  She straightened her shoulders. “Fine. In that case. It must be a marriage in name only. I do not ever want our marriage to be consummated.”

  “I’m afraid that will not be possible.”

  “Why not? If people without limbs can learn to paint why can’t you learn to live without sex? I’m ready to do it.”

  I reached for my whisky and took a sip. “For two reasons. A: People without limbs have no choice. I do. And B: You will be required to produce heirs.”

  She held my gaze without blinking. “Can you hear yourself? Can you hear what you sound like? We’re not in the dark ages of arranged marriages anymore, to any normal person what you are suggesting would sound insane.”

  I shrugged. “I agree it is not conventional in this day and age, but since my motto is Never Follow, Never Explain, I have no problem with being outside the acceptable norm.”

  “I can’t believe you would force me to be your wife,” she gasped.

  “All you have to do is say no,” I told her quietly.

  Her lips trembled. “You know very well I can’t, my father would kill me.”

  For a split second, I thought of Igor’s ferocious eyes. Indeed, that would be her fate. It would have been so easy for me to walk away from this union. No one, not even my father would dare question my decision, but then an image of Freya flashed into my mind. Her legs open, her body arched, her head thrown back with ecstasy, and words formed of their accord and slipped out of my mouth.

  “That is not my problem.”

  Chapter Nine

  Freya

  I stared at him in shock. I couldn’t believe he’d just told me he wouldn’t help me even if it meant my father would kill me. Maxim’s cold, unfeeling eyes stared right back and suddenly the whole world fell away. The air between us crackled with the tension.

  Then his gaze dropped to my mouth.

  And suddenly my heart stopped beating. Something else began to infect my blood, running through my veins like poison. It was not hate, fury, or disgust, it was… pure insanity. I stayed frozen as something deep inside my belly woke up and opened its eyes. No, it can’t be. Not for him. He was the enemy. It would be an unthinkable betrayal of Anna. He was her killer. A monster. I felt as if I was suffocating. Without thinking, I was on my feet and running. My head told me I was making a scene, but I couldn’t stay.

  “Freya,” I heard him call out as I weaved through the crowd, but I didn’t respond.

  A big hand grabbed a hold of me and in annoyance I jerked my hand from the grasp.

  “Let me go!” I screamed, as I kept moving, but I was grabbed again and this time so firmly, I couldn’t dislodge it. I whirled around. At first I was so wired I didn’t feel the steel of the blade lodge itself into my back. Those few seconds before the pain could get past the haze of fury and adrenaline gave my attacker those precious seconds to slip into the crowd. I opened my mouth to tell Maxim, who was only a few steps away, to fuck off. Instead a shocked gasp came out.

  Maxim’s eyes widened. “What is it?” His voice was urgent.

  My knees gave way and I felt myself falling. His reaction was lightning quick. He caught me and pulled me towards his body. He must have felt my blood flowing like a river over his hands, because his eyes changed as his gaze left mine and lifted up into the crowd.

  “Get him!” he roared.

  A flurry of panicked movement began around me as people began to notice what had just happened. I tried to push his hand away but the tears had already gathered in my eyes, as the pain reverberated through me. I felt his hand press against my wound.

  “You’ll be fine,” I heard him say, but my gaze had rolled up towards the sky. It began to dim quite rapidly before me, and then his face came into sight again.

  His eyes… struck me. They were just as vibrant as the sky had been just a moment ago. Something caught in my chest as I stared at him making it impossible for me to breathe. I felt the tears roll down my face just as I registered my hand rising. It was all his fault. All of it.
I wanted to hit him, but he instead grabbed my hand as my world… was lost.

  Chapter Ten

  Maxim

  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OWl9p3oFKgg

  She had nearly died in my arms.

  If that blade had punctured an organ, or my men had not been carrying a bleed kit she would have fucking died on that boat. I stopped pacing the room restlessly and stood for a moment in the center of it. My nerves felt frazzled. I wanted to kill someone, but what I needed to do was to calm the fuck down.

  I took a seat next to her and watched the light dusting of freckles across her nose. She had been stitched up and bandaged and now her arm was strung with an IV. There were wires hooked up from her chest to the machine that monitored her heartbeat.

  At first, the damp squid of a doctor expressed the opinion ‘that level of care is quite unnecessary’ but I took a step forward into his personal space and quietly told him if anything happened to her I would hold him personally responsible. I can’t imagine he knew who I was so it must have been the tone of my voice, or the look in my eyes, because he did the usual. Turned as white as a sheet and dedicated himself to his own survival in the short-term.

  Her hair was tangled, silky strands spread out over the pillowcase like rivers of red, lit ablaze by the early morning sun filtering in through the window blinds. I couldn’t stop myself. I reached out and touched the fiery silk. I let the soft wavy strands slide through my fingers.

  She was unconscious to the world, but she sighed softly, as if something deep inside her, that even she had not yet recognized, felt my touch. At the sound I exhaled my first proper breath in the last twenty hours.

  Her eyelids fluttered and I immediately leaned away. Giving her a heart attack the moment she awakened was not one of my goals for that day. I felt my phone vibrate and I pulled it out of my pocket. It was my brother, Levan. Her chest was rising and falling peacefully so I quickly slipped out of the room into the corridor to take the call.

  “Is everything alright?” I asked.

  “I should be the one asking you that. I just heard from Makhail. He can’t understand why they tried to get to her now.”

  “Instead of tattling about it, Makhail should be unravelling it,” I growled.

  He sighed. “Let him be, man. He told me because he knew I’d be worried. Any ideas why this happened?”

  “About a thousand,” I said dryly.

  “I can’t believe Fedorov lets her live alone and without protection in that city.”

  “Do you really believe that Fedorov would let his daughter go about without protection?”

  “Then where were they when all this happened?”

  “They would have shown themselves if I was not there. They could see my men had everything under control almost instantly.”

  “How is she doing now?” he asked.

  “About to come awake.”

  “I’ll let you go then.”

  “Yeah. Watch your back,” I reminded him. “Your wedding is just around the corner.”

  “You too,” he responded. “From what I hear you might be tying the knot before me.”

  “Well she’s just received a hole through her back. So I doubt that.”

  “Take care, Maxim.”

  I wasn’t done with the call. “Before you go, I heard there was trouble at Brighton last night.”

  His sigh was heavy. “Yeah, I’m handling that now. I have a meeting with a detective in forty-five minutes. Otari and his idiots got into a brawl with some Armenian gang. Unfortunately for them some rookie uniforms arrived on the scene and they found their stash of weapons and ice. I’m of the mind to just throw them to the authorities for at least a decade. That should be enough to reset their brains.”

  That made me smile. “You don’t have the heart to.”

  “You’ll be surprised. Anyway, we’ll talk some more after I’ve had my meeting. I’ll leave you with your new bride. One day in your company and she’s already had a knife through her. I fear for what the future holds.”

  “With this girl, weapons of steel are currently the least of my concern.”

  He chuckled. “Exciting days ahead, Maxim. I have great faith in her.”

  I put the phone back into my pocket and went back to the room. As if on cue, her eyelids began to flutter restlessly. I realized then that she must have already been awake for at least a few minutes.

  Her eyes opened. They were strained from the pain, the corners crinkling as she tried to reposition herself. She dragged her gaze away from mine and looked down at the IV needle in her hand.

  “Why are you here?” she asked, her tone clearly hostile.

  I wasn’t in the mood to fight so I decided to take my leave. She was awake, and alive and that was all that mattered… at least for now. Just as I reached the door it was abruptly pushed forward.

  I met the furious eyes of the don himself.

  “You bastard,” he swore. “Is this how you protect her?”

  “Technically she is still under your protection,” after a tiny pause I added, “Sir.”

  He was a reasonable man. He noted the truth in the statement and courtesy in which it was expressed and continued on his way to visit his daughter.

  Chapter Eleven

  Freya

  My father hurried to my side and placed his hand over mine. “Freya,” he called.

  I sucked in my breath at his use of the name my mother had given me. He hated it and when it appeared on his tongue it meant the situation was grave and he was trying to comfort me. I felt certain it was grave, but at that moment little, beyond the pain and anger I felt at the demon, had sunk in, so I felt quite numb.

  The scenes leading up to the second I was stabbed played in my head. They were fresh and hurtful. The cold, unfeeling demon had completely refused to help me even if it meant I would end up dead. I focused my eyes on my father. I must have looked pale and pathetic lying in that hospital bed, because he seemed disturbed. Even in that reduced state I knew right away this might be my only chance to reason with him. I willed the tears to come, but they wouldn’t. I brought back the image of the mangled body of my pet, Pasha, after he ran out in front of a car when I was nine. Soon enough my eyes misted over.

  “Papa,” I called out pitifully, keeping my gaze lowered.

  “Yes, my dear daughter,” he replied quite sincerely, placing dry kisses on my hand.

  My, my, kisses on my hand! He must be feeling especially guilty, or I looked especially wretched. I let even more crocodile tears pour down my face.

  “There, there,” my father consoled.

  With the drama of a black and white movie, I lifted my eyes brimming over with tears and gazed tragically at him. “Papa, I cannot marry Maxim.”

  For a few seconds his cold eyes regarded me expressionlessly. It was almost like looking into a reptile’s eyes. Then he patted the back of my hand affectionately. “Not now, Printsessa,” he said softly. “Just focus on recovering first.”

  I knew then that it was pointless. My head flopped back against the pillows.

  “Did you see the man who attacked you?” he asked, his voice business-like and brisk again.

  I shook my head wearily. Then I shut my eyes, and suddenly felt very, very, very exhausted.

  * * *

  The flowers came as I returned from the bathroom.

  Tracy, a cute Japanese intern, rolled me into the room and there it was. A massive bouquet of about two dozen sunflowers, their faces as big as children’s heads was sitting next to the bed. At first I was confused. How could he have known? Then I realized how and it instantly destroyed my mood.

  As Tracy helped me to get back into bed, I barely registered the pain that came with the movements because my chest was aching, aching even more for the friend I had loved, the girl I had found hanging from the ceiling fan, with a rope she had bought at the hardware store around her neck. Her tongue was swollen and protruding from her mouth, and her blouse was wet with saliva.

 
“Are you alright?” Tracy had noted my changed demeanor.

  I found a smile for her. “I’m fine.”

  She wanted to help me lie on my back, but I refused. “It’s alright. I’ll just sit for a little while.”

  “Okay,” she said with a smile and turned to leave. “Let me know if you need anything.”

  “Thank you,” I responded, and watched her leave. My gaze remained on the door, but I saw nothing. My mind was filled with Anna. How I had cut the rope down with a kitchen knife that day and held her in my arms sobbing, until finally the police arrived and pried her away from my clawed hands.

  It was a long time before I turned to look at the flowers.

  It made my heart ache in a way that immediately choked me with tears. She must have told him that sunflowers were my favorite flower. Why did he send them to me? Was it a threat, that perhaps I could also end up like Anna? Or was he just plain dumb?

  I wanted to pick up the phone to call him, to vent my fury, but all the raw emotion made my chest feel tight and constricted, so I focused on breathing evenly. Ever since he came into my life again my insides were constantly boiling.

  I stared at them, at how ugly they had become simply because he had sent them. How dare he? Viciously, I swung my hand out and it hit the tall glass vase. It flew from the table and crashed to the floor, shattering into sharp shards, water rushing out, and the flowers scattering on the plain gray floor.

  A few seconds later there was hurried footsteps and Tracy burst into the room.

  I turned to meet her eyes, first filled with concern, then confusion, as she looked from the chaos of shattered glass and strewn flowers at my feet, to the dead look in my eyes.

  “Are you alright?” she asked.

  “I’m fine,” I replied. “Please get someone to clean it up and take it away. I hate sunflowers.”