Oh goody, she had pissed him off again. The cold façade that habitually frightened everyone else in his world didn't stop her from doing everything in her power to annoy him. Especially on her forced wedding day. Because, though she would like to deny what was about to happen, she was under no illusions that once they left the mansion she would be returning to it a married woman, more fully under Vlad's power than ever. His influence throughout the city was undeniable and he had enough officials in his pocket, as she had discovered to her detriment after the botched search warrant execution, that she was positive her consent to the marriage was not going to be necessary.
"I declined the shopping trip. Thanks though," she said sarcastically and made to walk past him. "Let's get this over with."
Vlad seized her arm in a painful grip and held her still at his side. He looked down at her from his much greater height and said through gritted teeth, "This is our wedding day, Jane. If you persist in this stubborn mockery I will make sure it is far from the best day of your life."
Her eyes flared angrily. "Your presence has already ensured that."
"blyad, woman!" he snarled, angrily shaking her. "Never have I been pushed so far without immediate retaliation. For your sake, tread carefully malysh, especially in the presence of others. I would not be able to allow such insults to pass unpunished. I do not have the luxury of appearing weak."
Jane barely breathed. He was right, as the Boss he had to ensure swift and brutal obedience from all within his organization. If he allowed her to make him look foolish or weak, his position could be threatened. She could start a war within the American brotherhood. Much as she was okay with pissing Vlad off at every opportunity, she knew that war was in no one's best interests. She nodded curtly and stared straight ahead at the door of their bedroom until he adjusted his grip on her arm and escorted her downstairs and out to the waiting limousine.
They travelled to the courthouse in icy silence. Vlad watched her silently, brooding as she stared pointedly out the window. As they pulled up to the curb outside of the large state building, Jane was surprised to see Vlad's sister standing on the sidewalk talking animatedly to a handsome-in-a-lethal-sort-of-way muscular blond man. She hadn't thought there would be witnesses to their farce of a wedding, believing that Vlad would want to keep the event as quiet as possible until his bride was well and truly under his thumb. Having his only family attend felt somehow… intimate.
Jane turned to look at him questioningly and caught the speculative gleam in his eyes. Could this wedding mean more to him than she thought? The more she thought about it, the more it seemed less likely that he would marry her simply to stop her from talking to anyone about his illegal business affairs. There were other ways of dealing with her than marrying her, especially with such haste. Normal people couldn't get married so quickly. In fact, she didn't understand how it was possible other than Vlad getting what he wanted when he wanted it.
And he wanted her.
She stared back at him apprehensively. She could deal with the cold mob boss, but she didn't know if she could handle the possessive lover that would stop at nothing to tie her to him irrevocably. Next he would be trying to impregnate her. That stray thought caused Jane's eyes to dilate in panic and her mouth to open in wordless protest.
Oh. My. God. She thought in horror. Me as a mother? Worse, him as a father! Thank God children weren’t an option for them.
Vlad watched Jane's pale face with a slight frown and, once the car had come to a halt, pushed the door open and urged her out into the sunlight. "Calm yourself, Jane. It won't be so bad."
She snorted derisively and then took a step back as whirlwind Anya seized her in a quick hug and chatted in animated happiness. "I just knew there was something going on when you came to see me at the cafe. I'm glad you didn't take my advice then and leave the country."
Anya ignored her brother's growl of warning, linked arms with Jane and led her toward the stairs of the courthouse. Vlad, Boris and the blond guy followed the women closely behind. "That's an interesting outfit choice for a bride," Anya said quirking an eyebrow at Jane's casual jeans and T-shirt.
"Yeah, well, that's an interesting outfit choice for a bridesmaid," Jane returned.
Anya was wearing a short plaid skirt with a purple hoody and combat boots. Her signature blue tinted hair had been traded in for platinum blond with electric pink streaks. The younger woman shrugged and said dryly, "I didn't have a lot of notice."
"Neither did I," said Jane with a snort.
Anya laughed, "Yeah, when Vlad decides he wants something there isn't a thing in the world that'll stop him."
Jane shivered at the implied warning and concentrated on anything but her upcoming nuptials. They had come to a halt outside of a judge's office. Coincidentally, the same judge that had granted Anya the search warrant. She was starting to suspect everyone around her had conspired to get her to this point. In a desperate attempt to distract herself, she turned to her soon-to-be sister-in-law and asked, "Why does your brother have an accent and you don't?"
Anya's shrewd brain quickly caught on to Jane's diversionary tactic and she played along. "I was born in Russia but moved to America before my fifth birthday. Vlad is sixteen years older than me. He was already grown when we came to this country. I know the mother tongue, but in everything else I'm pretty much an American."
"Blasphemy, Anastasia," Vlad said, joining the two women and looking down at his sister with undisguised affection. "You are Russian through and through."
"Her stubborn streak certainly is," said the blond man approaching Jane and looking her over speculatively. He held out his hand, "Ash Bowles."
She took his hand and squeezed it, "Jane McKinley."
"Sitnikov," Vlad corrected firmly, taking Jane's arm and directing her into the office.
"I still have a few minutes until the execution," she breathed and then yanked her arm back when he squeezed it too hard, "Ouch!"
The judge was already in the room looking decidedly uncomfortable. More so when he saw what the bride and her bridesmaid were wearing. Anya snickered at his expression and stood at Jane's side with her arms crossed and a brow raised. Jane saw an echo of Vlad in that one insolent expression.
"If you need more time to prepare we can do this tomorrow," said the judge, clearing his throat and shifting papers around on his desk in a bid to not look Vlad in the eye.
"We do the ceremony now, if you please," Vlad replied coldly.
"Of course."
"I want to see the judge alone before we begin," Jane announced, looking defiantly up at her fiancée of a few hours. "There are some things I'd like to discuss with him first."
She had expected Vlad to become angry at her outburst, but he continued to look coldly uncaring. "Of course you do," he said. "But there is nothing you have to say to this man that I haven't already told him. He is aware of your situation Jane and has agreed to officiate our ceremony out of an understanding for our haste."
Jane frowned trying to understand what Vlad was not saying. She looked at the judge and said, "I'm not pregnant if that's what you think."
Anya burst out laughing beside her and Jane sent the other woman an annoyed glare. She was glad someone was enjoying her wedding day. She eyed the judge, taking note of his inability to meet her eyes. He was most definitely in Vlad's pocket and likely had been told exactly why the Russian boss wanted Jane tied to him irrevocably. There would be no point in trying to get him to help her. She saw in him a representation of everything wrong with law enforcement. She hated the thought that he would be officiating her wedding ceremony. As much as the whole ritual about to take place was a farce, she took the institution seriously, having been raised from birth until the day she left her family to believe that she would one day be the obedient wife of a god fearing man.
Turning to Vlad she said, "Let's do this, Russian."
He surprised her by grinning down at her and saying huskily, "Let us do this, malysh."
&nb
sp; Though her wedding ceremony hadn't been the happiest event of her life, Jane found herself several hours later partaking in what would pass for their reception with surprising enjoyment. She sat at her new husband's side eating a sampling of each new Russian dish that was placed before her in one of the city's most exclusive restaurants. The owner, Vladimir Sitnikov, had closed the establishment to the public on the occasion of his wedding and invited only his closest friends and soldiers. Some of the food she enjoyed and some she pushed away after one bite.
Jane knew that she would have to impress the men that surrounded Vlad, and among the Russians there was only so many ways she could do that. Strength and vodka. Since she wouldn't be winning any arm wrestling competitions in the near future, she ended up downing shot after shot of vodka in honour of her health, her beauty, her fertility and whatever else the jovial foul-mouthed men could come up with. After a few hours of revelry, Ash had removed a very drunk Anya after a curt word to her brother.
Anya had thrown her arms around Jane and slurred, "You're the best sister-in-law I've ever had. I'm so glad you're part of the family."
Jane had tried to extricate the younger woman with a gentleness that was unusual for her nature, patting her on the back, "You are just as obnoxious as I always thought you were. It'll be just like having a younger sister again."
Anya giggled and allowed Ash to take hold of her and firmly steer her toward the exit. "My big, tough man," she said patting his muscled butt lasciviously. He ignored her come on and hauled her out the door.
"Meathead," Vlad grunted sardonically.
Jane shrugged reaching for her shot glass, which had just been topped up. "I think he's hot."
Vlad's hand landed on top of hers before she could lift the glass to her lips. He grunted, "You've had enough."
She raised an eyebrow and tried to snatch her hand back. He held her firmly. "Why?" she demanded. "Because you can't handle me looking at another man? You're ridiculously possessive, Vladimir."
"Because," he said, injecting steel in his voice and leaning in to speak in low tones, "My new bride is being loose with her tongue in a place which she should not. And because I would rather not have to remove the source of my sister's happiness."
She gave him a feral grin and replied, "You threaten to kill people as easily as normal people do normal things like eat or breath or… or sneeze. You make me sick."
He stood abruptly and pulled her up with him, ignoring her gasp of surprise. Before she could protest or say anything else impudent he leaned down and kissed her hard on the lips to the amusement of those still present. She tried to pull back, but he held her tightly and punished her with a kiss that to outsiders would look passionate, but she knew was payment for her careless words. She hated that despite the painful kiss she savoured the taste of him. The sting of vodka on his lips and the ruthless dominance that seemed to stamp itself on her soul. Amid protests and cheering, he led her grimly from the restaurant and into the waiting limo. Once inside the fight seeped from Jane, leaving behind a colossal weariness.
He was watching her with his cold, shrewd gaze. "You are tired, malysh. And perhaps a little drunk."
She didn't bother to deny it. Instead she kept her shadowed gaze on the passing scenery and tried to ignore the powerful presence of the man at her side. Of course, Vlad was not a man to be ignored. He took her chin in a firm hold and turned her face to his. Applying pressure on her jaw, he forced her mouth to open. He touched the tender skin of her lips, noting the swelling from his kiss at the restaurant.
"You are such a tough little creature, I forget how delicate you really are."
She sighed when he released her face. "That's a pretty crappy apology Sitnikov."
He flashed her a warning look, "I make no apologies."
She laughed bitterly, "Of course you don't."
He shook his head in annoyance. "Though I am starting to believe you were designed specifically to test my patience."
When they arrived home, he followed her up to the bedroom, dogging her steps despite her outward hostility toward him. When they entered the master suite she whirled on him. "I'm not in the mood, Sitnikov. So don't imagine you get to touch me tonight. Not after what you did today."
Vlad advanced on her, his dark features taking on a satanic look. "I let you get away with using my surname once tonight, don't imagine I will continue to indulge you. I am Vlad and you will use my given name as you have recently done. We will not go backward in our familiarity of each other.”
"And," he snarled, stepping closer until Jane took a stumbling step back, "I will fuck my wife when and where I want. You will never deny me, malysh. Is this understood?"
Though intimidated, she held her ground and refused to answer him, instead crossing her arms protectively in front of her.
"As it happens I have no use for a drunk woman that is so tired she is swaying on her feet. You may rest easy that I won't touch you tonight," he turned to leave and said over his shoulder, "Tomorrow will be soon enough, Mrs. Sitnikov."
With that threat he left. Jane wanted to throw something, feeling suddenly insulted and annoyed that he would leave her on her wedding night. He was a cruel man. Even his new wife wouldn't be immune to his implacable misogynistic views. Now that he'd married her, she no longer posed much of a threat in exposing him. She could end up exposing herself in the process. He would likely make sure of it. Jane sighed and slumped onto the bed, letting the soft mattress and pillows soothe her. She wasn't even sure she wanted to expose him any more. She had felt vindicated at finding evidence of his illegal business ventures, but she hadn't had time to figure out what or if she would act on her findings. Now she was neatly trapped into a marriage to the most ruthless man she'd ever met.
As she drifted off to sleep fully clothed in her jeans and "private dick" T-shirt, his words kept repeating in her tortured brain.
Mrs. Sitnikov.
Jane Sitnikov.
CHAPTER TWENTYTWO
“Oh my god!” she groaned the next morning, rolling off the bed with a thump, and run-crawled to the bathroom. She got the lid of the toilet open just in time to discover that vodka is not nearly as smooth coming back up as it is going down.
“Burns, does it, malysh?” said a darkly amused voice from the doorway.
“Fuck… you and your… ‘molysh’ bullshit,” she replied between bouts of nausea. “I’ll give you a pet name that’ll make even your goddamned mafia ears burn.”
She glared at him from underneath her bangs. Then she laughed weakly, imagining what she must look like: sweaty, pale and shaking with nausea in day old clothes. “I make a hell of a bride,” she said with a watery grin before vomiting again.
With a muttered comment in Russian, he went to the sink, ignoring her weak slap at his leg to get him away, and wetted a facecloth. He bent over her and, lifting her dark hair, pressed the cool cloth against the back of her neck. She sighed in relief, her body beginning to relax now that most of the leftover vodka was out of her stomach. He crouched next to her and pressed the back of his fingers against her clammy cheek.
She turned her head to the side and squinted up at him with a mischievous look.
“What is it?” he asked.
“I’m hoping that seeing me as a disgusting mess will convince you to change your mind about this whole marriage thing and divorce me,” she replied.
He stiffened above her, his eyes like obsidian as he looked down at her. “You are lucky you are in such a condition or I would show exactly how I feel about your comment.” He touched her lips. “I may indulge you for the moment, Jane. But do not make the mistake of that word passing these lips again. I will never release you.”
Jane felt the truth of his statement. He was not a man that took vows lightly. He wasn’t a young man. He could have married years earlier, but for some reason he had chosen her for marriage. There was no chance he would allow her to escape the bonds he had placed on her. A feeling of intense vulnerability passed over
her. She turned her head away from him and squeezed her eyes shut.
“Can I please have a few minutes alone, Vlad?” she asked quietly.
She hadn’t expected him to allow her that much. Maybe it was the pleading note in her voice or the fact that he knew she had no fight left in her for the moment, but she felt him stand and move away from her. He paused in the doorway and said, “I will have Elyse bring up some coffee and toast for you. Get some rest. I have work to do, but we will dine together tonight.”
He left, allowing her to have a reprieve. Unfortunately it felt like a count down again. Being married now changed the game between them. There would be new expectations of her. Jane must have slept like that on the bathroom floor, because when she woke, the facecloth she'd been using for a pillow had gotten away from her and she didn't feel like she was about to die. Gingerly she sat up, using the edge of the vanity to pull herself into position. Her head swam and she was forced to lean forward and put her head on her knees, but her skull didn't explode like it was threatening to do earlier. After what felt like an eternity, she managed to pull herself up to standing and get a good look at herself in the mirror.
"Ew," she said, grimacing at the image. Her skin was sallow and her hair lay limply around her shoulders.
With a sigh, Jane began slowly peeling off her clothes, so as not to jar anything. Only when she was standing under the steady spray of the shower did she finally begin to feel human again. She'd been in the shower for about twenty minutes and was in the process of rinsing conditioner out of her hair when she heard the bathroom door open. She stood frozen, her heart picking up pace. She wasn't sure if she was nervous because she feared being so vulnerable around Vlad or because it was the day after her wedding and they had yet to consummate the marriage.
"How are you feeling now, Jane?" he asked, his voice friendly but impersonal.
Savage Vendetta (Fire & Vice Book 4) Page 16