“And father?” I asked, because he would be more than pissed, not just with my choice in woman, but with destroying whatever business connection he’d had going with Ivan. Because after this, there was no doubt that all ties would be severed. If not worse.
My mother’s frown disappeared and she smirked. “I’ll deal with him. Go to her. Protect her. And bring her home to us, Alexander.” She shooed me away and I started to leave before stopping to hand her my glass.
“Mother?”
“Yes?”
“What would you have done if I had said I didn’t love her? If it had just been about the sex. Would you have helped her still?” I asked.
Mother smiled. “I would have told your father and insisted that he go and rescue that poor woman. We don’t normally meddle in someone else's life like this—especially not someone whose parents were so traitorous. But she’s just a child herself and she’s been through enough without being married to that bastard. I see that now. I see her innocence and how it is archaic of us to hold her responsible for the sins of her parents.”
I nodded and left, rushing quickly back outside towards my car. Whatever else happened tonight, Marisha wasn’t spending another moment with Ivan, and if he’d harmed her, then I was going to make him pay fiercely.
*
Despite Ivan’s recent fall from grace with my family, he still had money. Old money that saw to it that his house was huge and his pockets lined.
As I approached the double gates to the property, I wound down my window and pressed the intercom button to get someone’s attention. I could see from here that the house was lit up, so I knew that someone was awake. Moments later a staticky voice came out of the intercom and I informed them who I was and watched as the gates opened immediately.
I drove up to the house, swinging around the fountain and parking behind Ivan’s car. Good, he was here. If he didn’t already know that Marisha and I were seeing each other, he would do very soon. I wasn’t hiding what, or who, I wanted for another minute, and Ivan would have to deal with it, or not.
I took my jacket and tie off, before unbuttoning the top of my shirt and rolling up my sleeves. If things got ugly tonight, which they no doubt would, I needed to be unencumbered to fight him. Another suit ruined. My tailor would get another nice paycheck soon.
But it didn’t matter.
I’d ruin a million suits, if it meant I could save her. If it meant I could bring her home and give her the life she deserved.
I opened my door and stepped out of my car, before leaning back in and grabbing my gun from the glove box. Ivan was unpredictable and enraged, who knew what he would be stupid enough to try tonight, but I would be ready for him in every capacity.
I closed my door and headed up the front steps quickly, trying the handle and finding it locked. I banged my fist on the door repeatedly until I saw the shadow of someone coming towards me, and when the door opened, one of Ivan’s security guards stared at me, his gun in hand and pointed at my chest.
“Mr. Zolotov isn’t in right now, Sir, but if you want to come back tomorrow, I’ll be sure to tell him you came round,” he said, a practiced speech.
“I suggest you lower that gun and get the fuck out of my way if you want to survive the night,” I replied, sounding calmer than I was expecting.
The guy at least had the sense to lower his weapon, but he shook his head apologetically. “I’m sorry, I can’t let anyone in while he’s not here.”
I took a step closer. “You know who I am.”
He nodded, his face paling. “I do, however…”
I took another step closer and tutted. “Then you know that there is no however when it comes to my family. Now I suggest you get out of my way.”
He hesitated and that momentary pause was all it took for me to take the final step up and grab him by the throat. I reached for his gun, smacking it from his hand before he could raise it and then I began walking into the house, the poor security guard's throat still in my grip. He stumbled backwards, his hands trying to grab mine as his feet slipped underneath him.
I looked around, but saw no sign of either Ivan or Marisha and I threw the guard to the floor, before reaching into my waistband, pulling out my gun and aiming it at his chest.
“Where is he?” I ground out.
He held up his hands to shield himself, but his flesh and bones were no defense against my bullets, and he knew it. My gaze fell on the paneled wall by the stairs and the small dark spots that stained the floor beneath it. That could only be blood and I felt my temper rise.
“He’s not here, sir. He left to attend a business meeting.”
“And his wife?”
He swallowed, looking at me through his fingers, his face—if it was possible—paled further and I knew I had been right to trust my instincts. “Upstairs, in her room.”
“Do you want to live?” I asked.
“Sir?”
“Get out now and head to Brooklyn Botanical Gardens. Find my father and tell him where I am.” I stepped back from him, allowing him to get up. “Do as I say, and you just might live out the night. Understood?”
He nodded quickly and left just as fast, realizing that this was the only way he was making it through this war. Because that was exactly what it was now—war.
I pushed my gun back into my waistband and took the stairs two at a time, calling out her name as I went and praying that he hadn’t already killed her. She’d warned me of how bad it would be if we were found out and I’d pushed her into it regardless. I’d wanted her and that was all I had cared about, and now…now she might be gone because of me. My heart squeezed, my chest tightening at the thought of harm coming to her, so my immediate reaction as she left the room to the right and came into view was joy.
Joy, because she was alive.
Joy, because I was taking her away from this.
Joy, because she was finally going to be all mine, and with my mother's blessing no less.
Her eyes widened when she saw me and she tried to hide her face, but it was too late. I’d seen what he had done, and the joy slipped away, replacing itself with rage so deep that I felt it to my very marrow.
“Alexander,” she whimpered as I walked closer.
Her face, her beautiful face, was broken, bloody and swollen. Large purple and black bruises were forming across her right cheekbone and eye socket and her lip was puffy and split, dried blood still on her chin.
My Marisha was alive, but he’d broken her and now he would pay the ultimate price.
Chapter Twenty
Marisha
“Don’t look at me,” I spoke quickly, my voice frail as I turned to the side to try and hide the worst of my damaged face from him.
It hurt to speak. Tiny bolts of pain shot through my face with each syllable I uttered. I was sure something was fractured. My cheekbone, maybe. I licked my lips nervously, wincing as it stung.
“I’ll fucking kill him,” Alexander growled as he approached me, gently cupping my chin to force me to look at him. His nostrils flared and his eyes widened with rage when he saw the damage up close.
“He knows, Alex,” I shortened his name, quickly realizing that I’d never called him anything but Alexander. And maybe he wouldn’t like it. Maybe I’d upset him too. “I’m sorry. Not Alex. I meant Alexan—,”
He pressed a gentle finger to my swollen lips. “You can call me Alex, Marisha. Your Alex. Nobody else’s.”
His words, though they struck a gentle chord in my chest and made me feel warmer, could not erase the horror of Ivan’s violence, or the promise of more to come. Ivan was going to kill me.
There was no getting away from that fact anymore.
I’d seen the simple truth in his eyes; I was already as good as dead, and there was nothing anyone could do about it.
I raised a shaking hand, pressing my palm against his chest over his heart.
“My Alex,” I whispered, for a brief moment letting my mind imagine a future where I was al
ive, Ivan was gone, and Alexander could truly be mine. I loved him so much, loved him to the center of my being. No, beyond that. I loved him in a way I’d never loved anyone or anything before. He had planted himself inside me, the creeping roots of his every detail reaching into the different parts of me until he could never be cut out, no matter how I tried to weed the thought of him from my mind and body.
It seemed cruel; to bring Alexander into my life and then take him away so quickly, yet I accepted it for what it was, because life wasn’t fair. It never had been for me or my family, and despite my death so quickly approaching, I knew I could die happy because of one simple fact… I loved this man. Deeply. Truly. Madly.
Alexander leaned forward and pressed his mouth so gently against my forehead that his touch barely registered.
Without thinking it through, I said what I was on my mind. “I can die happy, because I’ve been with you. Because I’ve learned…what love is from you.”
Alexander gripped my arms and shook me, but only for a second. His gaze grew wider, realizing that I’d been manhandled enough for one lifetime. He released me, running both hands nervously through his hair.
“Don’t say that, Marisha. Don’t ever say that. I won’t allow anything to happen to you,” he said firmly.
“This is Ivan, Alex… we both know that you won’t have a say in the matter. I’m his wife and he can do with me as he pleases,” I said, sadness gripping my words like a vice. “It’s the Bratva way.”
Alexander sighed, his hands running through his hair again. I took a step back from him, giving him the space he seemed to need. He frowned and closed the gap just as quickly as I’d made it.
“You can’t die. I won’t live without you.”
Hearing the Bratva prince say he couldn’t survive if I was gone was thrilling, and sobering. And it meant, maybe, just maybe, he loved me as much as I loved him.
“I love you, Alex. I love you so much, and I know that this seems crazy given we barely know one another, but you need to know that this was more than just sex for me. So much more.” I backed away from him again to lean against the wall. I needed to be supported. With every second, I felt like my will to live was slipping away. If the floor below me shifted into water, I’d not fight the tide. I’d let it pull me further and further from this life. And I could hope that I’d end up on some island far away where no one could hurt me. My parents would be alive there. Dad with his jokes and scratchy beard. Mom with her burned pizza and bottle blonde hair. We’d be a family again.
I blinked away tears, and when that didn’t work, I swiped the back of a hand across my eyes. Vision still blurry, I stared at Alexander. And he stared back at me almost blankly, all the anger washed away, none of his tenderness towards me showing. He didn’t feel the same way. I was wrong. I was always wrong.
“I’m sorry. I needed to say it. I know that I’m a mess. I’ve got so much baggage… I’d never ask you to ruin your life. Not for me. I’m sorry.” I found an ounce of courage and I pushed my body away from the wall, and it felt like the world swayed beneath me. “I’m sorry, Alexander. It’s okay. I’ll be okay. Go home. God, what your parents must think about you being here helping the daughter of betrayers.”
As I passed him, Alexander reached out and took my hand to stop me. I tilted my head down, the tears unstoppable. Salty wetness dampened my lip. More stinging. Insult to injury.
“I’ve never loved anyone, Marisha. Hell, if I’m being completely honest with you, I’ve never even had a long-term relationship. I’m a drive by fuck. A string of pathetic one-night stands. Once the sex starts costing something, I’m out.”
“You don’t have to tell me all this. We had our thing. It was wonderful. But I understand it needs to be done.”
It really didn’t matter. Not anymore.
If we stayed together, Ivan would kill me. If we broke up, Ivan would still kill me. He knew I’d been seeing someone, but he didn’t need to know it was the Vasiliev heir. I wouldn’t ruin Alexander's life the way I’d ruined mine.
“You can’t leave me, Marisha. I told you, I won’t live without you.”
“Alexander, you don’t love me, and that’s okay. Honestly, it’s better if you just leave. Just leave and forget about me.” I tried to pull away from him, but his grip around my hand only tightened.
“I. Won’t. Live. Without. You.” He punctuated each word, full of heat and longing. His display of neutrality was gone. “I love you, Marisha. I love you so much that it fucking hurts.” He slammed his fist against his chest to prove a point. “I want what my parents have. I want someone to hold when times are tough. Someone who will call me out on my shit when I’m being an asshole, bear my children, and grow old with me. I want you, Marisha, only you.”
“Your parents will never let you—,”
“My mother told me what happened at the fundraiser. She asked if I loved you, and she told me to come get you, Marisha. She told me to bring you home.”
“Home?” Mouth trembling, knees weak, I stumbled and my mind tried to dissect his words. They couldn’t be real.
He wasn’t real.
I didn’t deserve a white knight to swoop in and save me.
“I don’t deserve it, Alexander. I don’t.” My throat tightened and everything just suddenly seemed too much. For no reason that I could figure out, I balled my fists and hit him in the chest. Over and over, I hit him. I wasn’t gentle, and I couldn’t stop. The more I hit him, the more I wanted to hit him. And he just stood there and took it. He let me abuse him, until finally I felt emotionally spent, and I sunk against his body and sobbed. I was that hollowed-out balloon again, but this time all the rancid air of the past years, all the awful memories, had escaped through the now untied rubber neck. Deflated, but also released of pain.
“It’s okay, Marisha,” he soothed, tracing his fingers through my hair. “It’s over and I’ll see to it that he’ll never fucking hurt you again.”
Blinking up at him, his strong arms holding me upright, I forced myself to believe him. Believe that tomorrow morning I was going to wake up with him in the Vasiliev household, safe and truly wanted by a man, and able to heal.
He smiled down at me softly, the expression reaching his eyes. “Is there anything you need before we go? Because once you leave here, you’re never coming back.”
“I was panicked and trying to pack.” I stuttered out the words. “But I don’t want anything of his. I don’t want anything he’s touched.”
“Fine.” He hugged me, arms now wrapping around my waist and lifting me up on tiptoes. “Then let’s go.”
He began leading me towards the ornate stairs, but I stopped in my tracks. “Wait. I do need something. I can’t leave without it. I’m so sorry. Just a second.”
Making my way back to the master bedroom, I quickly beelined for my jewelry box. Opening it, I dug through the contents, pushing diamonds and platinum aside until I found the only thing that was really mine.
My mother’s gold hair pen. The bird with emerald eyes. One emerald eye now. I hadn’t had a chance to get it fixed and I didn’t see the loose stone. I kept digging, tossing aside hundreds of thousands of dollars in rings and earrings and tennis bracelets. All the gifts given by Ivan to bandage the bruises on my body. To show off his new wife to the world. They were costume jewelry to me; they meant nothing, just like I was to him. Nothing. Baubles that I’d sooner throw in the trash than ever wear again.
Eventually, heart heavy, I gave up on the second emerald. I wished I could take my vanity as well, but it was too large. The hair pin had to be enough, to carry the love of my parents with me.
I was moving back towards the hall when I heard the distinct sound of a door opening and closing. I walked faster, breathing a sigh of relief when I found Alexander still out in the hallway waiting for me.
“I thought you’d left me,” I said, but stopped in my tracks as Alexander held a hand up for me to wait where I was. He pressed a finger to his lips and moved towards
me quietly.
“Someone just came into the house. What time was Ivan supposed to be back?” He pitched his voice low so his words wouldn’t carry. The acoustics in such a massive house were insane.
“I don’t know. He acted like the deal with your father was falling apart. Sometimes he’ll be gone all night to fix an issue, other times only a few hours. It could just be the front guard?” I said, hopefully.
“No,” he murmured with a shake of his head, “he knows I’m here…or at least, whoever you’ve been sleeping with is here. Only Ivan would be stupid enough to enter.” Alexander pushed me the few short steps back into the bedroom.
As we moved, my eyes flashed up to the sleek black camera in the corner of the hallway. “The cameras,” I breathed out, panic surging through me so suddenly I felt sick. “They’re everywhere. Ivan checks them constantly from his phone and the monitors in his study. Oh my god, Alex. He knows you’re here. He knows it’s you now!”
“Let him know it’s me, Marisha. Let him challenge the future Bratva King.” He exuded confidence and I wanted to feel the same, but instead I felt an undercurrent of anxiety. Ivan wasn’t just an abusive husband; he was a lucrative businessman to the mafia. He was dangerous. I was just a brittle, useless woman. I was expendable.
“Alex, you can’t do anything rash. Your father will—”
“My father doesn’t like the bastard any better than I do, Marisha. I had to convince him to keep him in the fold for business reasons. If he’s screwing over my father with that deal, then he’s as good as fucking dead anyways.” He pulled a gun into view and backed away.
“He’ll kill you!” I hissed, panic gripping me.
Alexander smirked, the Devil in his eye. “He can fucking try.”
My heart was pounding, sweat breaking out on my forehead. I clutched my mother’s bird hair pen so fiercely that my palm ached. “What are you going to do?”
“Anything I damn well have to.” He looked around the room and then pointed at the bathroom. “Does that lock?”
Deviant Prince: A Forbidden bad boy Mafia Romance. (Born to Darkness Duet Book 1) Page 15