"I don't know," I lie, holding my expression in check. I could have easily said no, but then he could have called my bluff. No, this should dig deeper into his ego and make him wonder just how long after him did I turn to another.
There's the slightest reaction in the way his jaw clenches, his eye twitching as he turns his deadly gaze on me.
"Did you fuck him?" The words are brusque, violence dripping from them as he takes a step towards me.
I don't back down. I raise my chin up, my eyes bravely meeting his as I show him that he doesn't scare me.
"Why do you care?" I throw the question out, trying to seem as nonchalant as I can.
"Did. You. Fuck. Him?" he grits his teeth, his body already crowding mine as he pushes me towards the wall.
"No," I answer, maintaining eye contact, enjoying the way relief floods his features before I continue, wanting to twist him up inside and make him hurt like I did, "I made love to him. Not that you would know what that means," I give him a brilliant smile, playing his game. Leaning forward to whisper in his ear, I add, "he worshiped my body and made sweet love to me. He showed me it doesn't have to hurt. And when it does, it hurts good."
I don't know where this is all coming from, but I want to be petty. I want to cause him at least one percent of the hurt he's caused me.
"You're lying," he spits out, narrowing his eyes at me.
Ah, but it seems to be working.
Already, I can see his body slowly shaking, his jaw locked tight in place as he regards me. He might not have feelings, but he does have his pride. And I think I just injured it.
It takes everything in me not to gloat at the fact, and not bait him even further. But for him to truly believe me, I can't stoop too low.
The opposite of love isn't hate—it's apathy.
And he's been the best teacher in showing me just how much indifference hurts. So I return the favor.
"Think what you will, Vlad. Frankly, I don't care," I shrug, looking unbothered. "You threw me away, and he was there to pick up the pieces. Can you blame me?" I raise an eyebrow, waiting for his logical mind to process everything.
His expression morphs before my eyes, his eyes widening in horror and I have my confirmation that he believes me. Stepping back, there's a slight shake of his head as he looks at me in dismay, the muscles in his arms protruding as he clenches and unclenches his fists.
I'm not sure what type of reaction I was expecting, but certainly not this.
Turning his back to me, he punches the table, breaking it in the middle. I move to the side, his outburst taking me by surprise.
"Sisi," he calls my name, his voice ragged.
Still not facing me, he continues to punch the table, effectively destroying it. And when there's nothing more to hit, he falls to his knees, bleeding hands to his temples as he starts hitting himself.
A low and anguished moan escapes him—something akin to pain.
But it can't be...
"Sisi," he continues to say my name, his voice increasingly lower, raspier, and filled with... hurt.
I shake my head, unable to comprehend this display in front of me.
"Vlad, what's wrong?" I move towards him, my worry for him trumping my disdain.
"No," he puts a hand up, "all my fault," he mumbles something, his breathing punctured and heavy.
"Vlad..."
"Stay back," he wheezes, bending over in pain.
"I..." I trail off, watching him heave, his entire face strained, his eyes closed.
"Run," the words are barely audible.
"Vlad," I take a step closer, concerned.
"Run!" he screams at me, and one glimpse at his features has my feet moving of their own accord. "Basement... Lock yourself..." he doesn't get to finish the sentence as another pained whimper escapes him. He seems to be battling with himself for control.
I know I should take this chance and just run away, but the sight of him crouched on the floor and in pain is etched in my mind, not letting me do anything but head to the basement and wait.
It's hours later that I reemerge from the basement. I'd been extremely surprised to see a panic room in the lower level, the steel door ensuring nothing can come through. It makes me wonder if it came with the house or it's a new addition.
Specifically built for him.
When I reach the ground floor of the house I come face to face with a freshly showered Vlad, a towel wrapped around his waist.
"I was just coming to get you," he says.
"Glad to see you're doing better," I nod my head at him, this time having a better grasp on my indifference. "Now, if you can take me back, that would be great," I add, crossing my arms over my chest.
I need to be as far away from him as possible. Only then I'll be able to get myself under control. Even now, seeing the signs of weariness on his face has me worried, one foot forward, my body prepared to go to him to make sure he's ok.
And I can't have that.
I'd come to grips with the fact that he has a certain unnatural effect on me a long time ago. But knowing that my natural inclination is to reach for him means I'm also able to control myself.
"That's not happening," he answers casually, using a towel to dry his hair. "Your room is unlocked. I left some things for you there so go make yourself comfortable," he says, walking past me.
"What do you mean? You can't keep me here," I frown, turning to follow him up the stairs and into a room not unlike the one I'd woken up into.
"Oh, but I can, Sisi," he gives me a devilish smile, "you're officially my wife. That means your place is with me." He picks up his watch from a table, placing it on his wrist.
"Against my will. Really, Vlad, what's the point of this?" I sigh, done with everything. "Why can't you let me be?"
"Because I told you," he speaks slowly, enunciating each word. "I'm never letting you go. Where I go you go. And where you go..."
"I go alone," I don't let him finish his words, already getting mad at him again.
"I follow," he comes closer. So close I can still see some drops of water cling to his skin, the ink drawing my attention. But as I notice that my eyes go lower and lower, I immediately whip my head up.
Too late.
He's regarding me with an amused expression, one eyebrow raised.
"Like what you see?" he asks, his voice arrogantly bold as he positions himself in front of me.
"I've seen better," I lie, shrugging and moving past him to sit on his bed. "We need to have a serious conversation, so drop those," I wave my hand towards his body, "seductive moves you're trying to pull on me. It's not going to work." But even as I say the words, I can't help the way my eyes try to drink him in.
And then I see it.
I frown as I look better, realizing his tattoos look different. There's...
"That wasn't there before," I speak before I can help myself, pointing towards the triangle drawn over the evil spirits, almost as if it's caging them in.
"Perceptive," he smirks. "You're right. It's a new addition," he says, but doesn't elaborate.
I feign a cough to clear my throat.
I need to get a grip on myself.
"Right, so," I straighten my back, "I need to get back to New York. Marcello must be worried by now."
"I left a note." He shrugs, moving around the bed and towards a big walk-in wardrobe. Seeing that he's trying his best to avoid this conversation, I just follow him.
"So he knows I'm with you?" I ask, surprised he would have been so direct.
"Something along the lines." He says, amused, before dropping his towel.
It's so sudden, I barely have the time to react. My eyes widen, my mouth forming a small o as I simply take in his body.
Definitely bulked up.
I can't help but feel the heat creep up my neck as I see his ass, so insanely well sculpted. Even covered entirely in ink, the way his muscles flex when he moves is unmistakable.
And then I move my gaze up and I see him watching me with a smug expres
sion on his face, so I immediately turn around, embarrassed to be caught staring.
"I didn't hear anything about your fiancé. Won't he miss you too?" he asks, and to my everlasting shame, it takes me a while to get my errant heart under control in order to answer him.
"Of course. Raf too. He's probably frantic with worry," I say absentmindedly, images of his naked flesh still playing in front of my eyes.
Damn it!
I was right the first time. I am cursed. And my curse is being saddled with him.
"Too bad you're already married, wouldn't you say so?" His breath is suddenly on my neck.
Moving my hair aside, he trails his lips over the back of my neck, settling over my scar. It's the ghost of a touch, but enough to make me shiver from head to toe.
"Vlad," I say his name, my nails digging into my palms as I force myself to remain motionless. "Drop the game."
His tongue sneaks out, and I feel him slowly move against my skin. My breath hitches, but as I realize he's getting the reaction he wanted out of me, I quickly turn around, pushing him off me.
"Stop for one moment. Please," I'm breathing hard. From arousal or from anger, I don't know. His pupils are dilated as he gazes at me, and I don't even have to look down to know he must be hard. "And put some clothes on," I say flippantly, keeping my eyes on his face.
"Go to your room, Sisi," he rasps, threading his fingers through his hair. "Unless you want something else to happen, you'd better go to your room and lock the door."
"Vlad," I groan, exasperated. "We need to talk and sort this mess out. I really don't understand why you're doing this, but I need to get back home and you need to mind your own business." I say confidently, pleased at myself for getting so many words out and so smoothly. And with how he's looking at me, it's a wonder I'm not already hiccupping, or worse, panting.
Panting... Good Lord, but I'd be screwed. Literally.
"If you're going to stay here we can talk, yes," he starts, and a smile of satisfaction pulls at my lips. "But it's not going to be the type of talk you're thinking about," he smirks. "So unless..." he continues, the innuendo clear as he's coming closer to me.
"Go to hell, Vlad," I turn around, already out the door. His chuckle echoes behind me, almost goading me to react.
Damn him, and damn this and damn everything!
After wandering about the house for a while, I finally find my way to the room, locking myself inside.
There has to be a way to get in touch with Marcello.
I can't just stay here, waiting for Vlad to get bored with me again. Because I know how this game is going to end. With me heartbroken—again.
"Damn," I whisper to myself, my eyes damp with tears.
I take off the wedding dress, remaining only in the satin shift underneath. Tired and frustrated, I climb into the bed and wait for sleep to come to me.
Damn you, Vlad. Why do you have to keep on hurting me?
Couldn't he have disappeared from my life forever? At least then the pain would have faded over time. Now the pain is raw again, my wounds opening up and bleeding anew.
After a good night of sleep, my resolve is strengthened. I just need to find a phone, call Marcello to come get me and everything else should be solved, too.
Eventually.
Getting out of bed, I notice that Vlad hadn't lied when he'd said he'd deposited some things in the room. There are a couple of dresses like the ones I used to wear, as well as shoes, toiletries and even under things.
Damn him.
I have to begrudgingly appreciate he'd supplied me with everything I needed, but that doesn't make me any less of a prisoner.
Getting ready for the day, I open the door, intent on seeking him out for another bout of discussions. I don't get to take one step outside my room, though, as the entire hallway is filled with toys.
There are teddy bears in all shapes, and sizes, all scattered across the hallway and blocking my path.
What the... There must be hundreds of them.
"Vlad!" I yell out his name, sighing deeply as I realize another argument is forthcoming.
"Yes," he replies, coming out from the end of the hallway.
He's wearing a black shirt and a pair of gray sweatpants, and I have to say, I don't think I've ever seen him dressed so casually before.
"What's this?" I ask, waving my hand towards the army of teddy bears that seem to have laid siege at my door.
"Well," he starts, looking a little uncomfortable. He brings his hand up, scratching the back of his head as he all but avoids my gaze.
"Why is there an army of teddy bears here?" I ask, tapping my foot impatiently.
"For you," he eventually says, his voice going down a notch.
"For me?" I repeat, incredulous.
Closing the door to my room, I wade my way through the many teddy bears, trying to ignore the way they are so soft and oh so cute. But this is neither the place nor the time to gush over stuffed animals.
"Did you rob an entire teddy bear store?" I cross my arms over my chest, narrowing my eyes at him. "Unless..." my eyes widen. "Did you put something in them? Bombs? Listening devices?" I'm quick to grab into the nearest bear—a tiny blue one that is so soft I want to just pet him—and I pull, ripping it at the seams.
There's no way Vlad would do this without a reason. What is his purpose? Get me to lower my guard?
Speaking about trojan horses...
"Sisi," he groans, trying to take the bear from me, "there's nothing inside the bears."
"I don't believe you," I counter, tossing the first bear and taking another one, repeating the procedure and feeling it up for hidden wires or any other devices Vlad might have placed inside them. "I knew you were a scoundrel, but I didn't realize you'd stoop so low to use teddy bears. What's wrong with you, Vlad?" I shake my head at him, sad that I'm destroying such cute toys.
"Sisi," his hands cover my own, stopping me from continuing to tear into the bears. "They were a present. Nothing else. I promise," he says solemnly, but I just push his hands aside.
"As if your promises count for anything," I mumble, not looking at him.
"I'm serious. I just wanted to gift them to you."
"Why?" I fire back immediately.
"So that you're not... lonely," he admits, lowering his head.
I frown, unable to get a read on him. What's his angle this time?
"So that I'm not lonely?" I repeat, my eyebrows shooting up at his explanation before I simply burst out into laughter.
"I gather you didn't like them," he says quietly, staring at what's left of the little bear on the floor.
Before I get a chance to reply, though, he's gone, taking the broken teddy bear with him.
I knew it.
It must have something inside that I didn't notice, so he's taking it with him to hide the evidence.
Shaking my head at him, I decide that the sooner I get out of here, the better. Who knows what other tricks he has up his sleeve.
To my surprise, I don't see Vlad the rest of the day. It's only the next morning that I note his presence again, and this time with an over the top gesture too.
"Seriously?" I roll my eyes at him, lifting up the hem of my dress so that it doesn't get dirty. Then I try my hardest to bypass him and head downstairs for breakfast.
Chapter Twenty-Three
"Vanya, where are you when I need you?" I sigh, resting my head in my hands. She would have known what to do in this situation.
I don't know what I expected from seeing her again. I certainly hadn't thought about it much. I'd just acted on the spur of the moment, knowing that I could never let her marry anyone but me. And so I'd ensured—rather forcefully—that no one will ever be able to marry her. By marrying her myself.
But everything seems to have backfired.
What would Vanya say?
"Of course it backfired, you idiot! You threatened to kill her entire family." I attempt to imitate my sister.
Well, when you put it
like that...
I'd been so desperate that nothing seemed off limits in the moment. I would have done anything to tie her to me forever. Hell, I would have killed her family.
There's absolutely nothing I wouldn't do for her, and that includes mass murder. And genocide. And even nuclear war.
Is there something worse than nuclear war?
Probably stealing candy from a child. And I would have done that too!
But now she hates me...
Not that I blame her, since she has every right to hate me. But I don't know how to fix it. I don't know how to make her see that I am sincere, and that I'm not playing any games. I don't know how to show her that I've changed—at least slightly—and that I'm ready to do whatever it takes to win back her love and her trust.
"I screwed up." I mutter to myself, my behavior from yesterday having been nothing short of atrocious.
But how could I have reacted any other way when she managed to break my heart with just a few words?
He worshiped my body and made sweet love to me. He showed me it doesn't have to hurt. And when it does, it hurts good.
I bring my fist up, banging it against my heart in hopes it may lessen the hurt. Since she uttered them, those words have kept on replaying in my head, torturing me with the knowledge that she's no longer mine.
That she...
Not only can I not imagine someone else seeing her naked, or touching her. But another man inside her? Bringing her pleasure? Taking my place?
"Fuck," I punch myself even harder.
Why does it seem like there's a dearth of oxygen in the room? Or is it that my lungs can no longer process it? Because the more I think of Sisi—my Sisi—even in the same room as another man, I want to go crazy. But to think of her fucking someone else?
The pain is so unbearable, I can't even stand upright. My feet barely carry me to the bed as I collapse, face down on the mattress.
"It's all my fault." I whisper, knowing I have no one to blame but myself.
I pushed her away.
I pushed her into his arms.
She's right. Can I blame her when all I did was hurt her—both physically and emotionally?
Now I can only hope she'll one day forgive me. Even if I have to do penance every day for the rest of my life, I'll do it as long as she's with me.
Morally Ambiguous: A Dark Mafia Romance (Morally Questionable Book 4) Page 43
