With This ring

by Le Carre, Georgia

  Her happy smile broke and I felt sorry for always pulling her into the midst of my anger with the Ivankovs. I actually liked her, and given different circumstances, we might have even become friends.

  There was something I did wonder about though, and couldn’t hold it back any longer. “You love Levan a lot, don’t you?”

  Her eyes softened and she smiled. “I do.”

  I concluded then she wasn’t well versed in the horrors of being married into a Russian mafia family, especially one as dangerous as our two families. I drained my glass and chose not to say anything. Who knew? Maybe I was wrong and she was right. Her love would be strong enough to weather all the storms coming their way.

  She however knew exactly what I didn’t want to say. She reached for my hand, held it in hers, and said, “I owe everything to Levan. He and I came together out of tragedy. It’s a long story which I will tell you in detail someday, but basically, I was kidnapped by a madman and everyone around me suffered and nearly even lost their lives trying to get me out. My father, my best friend, Levan … and Maxim.”

  My brows shot up in surprise at the mention of the last person.

  She nodded. “Yes, Maxim. Secretly he might have wanted to kill me for all this trouble I was causing. Levan was almost given a life sentence because of me.” She smiled. “But he saw that his brother was in love with me and he helped. Repeatedly.”

  “Wait, what? Maxim helped repeatedly?”

  She nodded.

  “Are you sure we are talking about the same person?”

  She laughed. “Yup.”

  I frowned. I couldn’t imagine Maxim being moved by love.

  “So, Freya, I have experienced the dangers of being involved with this family and the mafia in general in the most brutal, first hand way, but I couldn’t let Levan go and neither could he, so we found a way to make it work. After our wedding, he will be leaving the conglomerate for good. We’re moving to South Africa, and he’s going to become a brewer there. It’s been his dream to make the finest craft beer ever made, but he’s always had to put it aside because of the family.

  “What?” I gazed at her in disbelief. Levan was leaving the family? His father was letting him? How the hell was that even possible?

  “Yeah,” she nodded. “Obviously, I’m not saying that Maxim’s going to do the same. He’s more… well… involved and important to the business, but all I’m saying is that I was very surprised when Levan told me that Maxim was willing to marry you.”

  She suddenly realized how her words must have sounded, and her hand went to her mouth in apology. “That’s not what I meant to—”

  “Relax, it’s okay,” I said and patted her on the shoulder in amusement.

  “No, no, I have to explain what I really meant. What I was trying to say was, Maxim is very much his own man so I had a very hard time ever picturing him agreeing to marry a woman he has no interest in. Even after a short time of knowing him I can see just a request from his father for him to marry you would not have been enough to get Maxim to do anything. Yes, he works closely with his father and according to Levan will take instructions from his father where the older man has more experience, but never on anything Maxim does not personally agree with. Anyway, what I’m trying to say is underneath that distant, aloof exterior he is a great guy. He is just as fiercely loyal and intensely passionate as Levan.” She wrinkled her brown eyes. “Maybe even more. You know what they say about the silent ones. So, why not give him a chance, eh? He might not be as bad as you think.”

  “What are you two cooking up?”

  We both looked up then, startled by the sudden bass voice. It was Levan. Then my gaze fell on the person that stood beside him, and my heart jumped in my chest.

  Every single time I laid eyes on him, I was stunned all over again by how handsome he was. How regal… how imposing. It stirred things in me that, God’s truth, made my toes curl. Especially now. He was dressed quite casually which was as rare as sights went. His crisp white dress shirt was unbuttoned at the collar. The sleeves folded to just below his elbows, revealing strongly-veined, tattooed skin that belonged to a man from another world.

  Bianca meant well, but there was just too much bad blood between us. It wasn’t just the man I was against, but his world and everything it represented.

  As much as he made my blood race he was not the man for me.

  Chapter Twenty

  Maxim

  She was here!

  When my father requested all of us fly in for the dinner, I was certain she wouldn’t show up but here she was, dressed like a bride.

  Her white dress fit her like a glove, curving and dipping in all the right places and the neckline was low enough to reveal the gentle swell of her milky-white breasts. Her hair had been pulled back from her face and I missed the wildness of her hair, but it did make her look even more delicate and fragile. Her skin was like fine porcelain and her eyes, effervescent as they stared at me defiantly. Her lips were plump and painted the kind of sinful red that made me almost willing to swim across a few seas just so I could suck them into my mouth. To taste her… to have her body pressed hard against mine, and those slender fingers fisting my shirt as she fought to hold on to her sanity.

  Suddenly, it was hard to breathe as I felt myself harden. Not to cause embarrassment that would be too hard to come back from, I gave her a hard look and walked away.

  “Maxim,” Levan called, but I continued towards the study. I needed a drink. But as I passed the lounge, I heard my father call my name. I retraced my steps and entered the lounge room to see that my father had opened his best bottle of whisky, drinking it with Freya’s father.

  It was a sight to behold indeed, given that for the latter part of the last two decades they hated each other so much they couldn’t even bear to be in the same room together. I slipped my hands in my pockets and stood before both of them.

  “How are the wedding arrangements coming?” her father asked.

  “I believe that question will be more suited for your daughter, Sir,” I answered. “She seems to have a mind of her own.”

  “A mere woman with a mind of her own?” my father scoffed.

  “She is no mere woman, she probably has a stronger mind than any of us here.”

  There was a sour look on Igor’s face. “My daughter is like a highly-strung horse. She just needs a firm hand.”

  “What exactly is the problem here?” my father asked with a frown.

  “I think it’s best if you hear from her yourself,” was my response. “No one speaks for Freya.”

  Then I continued on my way towards the study where I poured myself a generous amount of whisky. It calmed my nerves, but did very little to take my mind off the girl in the kitchen. She wanted absolutely nothing to do with me and that alone made her unique.

  I went to stand by the window. Outside the garden was lit with many lights. The water drops from the waterfall sparkled like diamonds.

  At that moment I wanted her so badly I could feel it burning inside me. The fire inside of me I wanted to burn inside her too, but then I thought of my bad-tempered father coming face to face with the tigress he had called a mere woman.

  I downed the rest of my drink and frowned. If I was not careful there was a very real possibility this marriage would be called off before the night was over.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Freya

  “So what date have you and Maxim decided to set for the wedding?”

  I choked on the honey cake that had been sliding down my throat, and had to hit my chest for some relief before I lifted my gaze to meet the hard, cold eyes of Mr. Ivankov.

  Say what now, or something else equally irreverent sounded in my head, but I noted the watchful, cautious gaze of my father, and decided to tread carefully.

  “I … uh.” I looked at Maxim who had his eyes fixed on me as though in a dare. So, of course, I said exactly what I wanted to. “As a matter of fact I have no plans on marrying Maxim. I’ve re
layed this to my father and Maxim, very clearly.”

  “Freya!” my father called menacingly.

  I dropped my fork and stared my father down. “What? What do you expect from me? You didn't even have the kindness to tell me that you were bringing me here to make marriage arrangements for me. I thought you wanted me in Moscow to recuperate, after being stabbed just for being seen with Maxim. And now you all want me to marry him?”

  “What exactly about my son do you object to?” his father asked.

  I looked the Don right in his fierce eyes and felt a sliver of concern at how this would affect my father and his plans, but he hadn't thought how this would affect my life and my plans so that was his problem to handle. I took a deep breath.

  “Your son is a wonderful man. Any woman who gets him should consider herself very lucky, but I just don't want to get married,” I replied, “to anyone.”

  “Every woman must get married,” he said, a perplexed frown on his broad forehead. “Every woman must have a man by her side, to provide for her, to protect her—”

  “Well, I was right in front of Maxim when I was attacked and he couldn't do anything about it. I could have died that day!”

  At my accusation everyone and everything stopped moving. Even the manservant who had been serving us had to remind himself to resume after my fiery accusation that the family’s top dog was inadequate.

  I glanced at Bianca. She had her head down. Levan looked as if he was amused by my outburst. Maxim’s father just stared at me as though I had horns on my head. But my father looked like he wanted to burn me alive.

  My eyes moved reluctantly to Maxim. He was expressionless.

  I began to suspect then that I might be burying myself into some sort of grave here so I quickly rose to my feet to take my leave.

  “Sit down!” my father roared furiously. The whole room seemed to shake.

  Out of respect for him and a gnawing fear that I had gone too far, I did as I was asked, but I folded my arms across my chest defiantly and waited for him to try to threaten me. For the first time in my life I was ready to defy him. What was he going to do to me? I was dependent on him for absolutely nothing so short of tying a noose around my neck and dragging me to the altar, how was he going to get me to do what he wanted?

  “Your marriage will take place in two weeks. You can have your ceremony, after Levan and his fiancée have celebrated theirs.”

  “With all due respect father,” I said, “no, thank you.”

  “You will obey me in this,” he said very softly.

  “No, I won’t. The only way I’m marrying is if you literally shoot me dead and drag my corpse to the altar. Short of that, no one is going to force me to marry anyone against my will.”

  With that, I rose from the table and in the tense silence in the room, made my way out. I would have called myself some mode of transportation, but I knew there was no way any vehicle was getting into this compound. Also, I had left my phone at home. I would have to wait until my father was ready to leave. More than anything I hated feeling like a spoiled brat, but brat or not, no one was going to encroach on the life I had been trying all my life to carve out for myself.

  My stomach was churning as I headed towards the Ivankov’s famous garden. It was called Morning Calm and had been personally tended to and planted by Maxim’s mother. After her death it had been scrupulously maintained by a team of gardeners. Now that I knew the sorry story surrounding her death, I couldn’t find it in my heart to appreciate the place as a green paradise filled with the most beautiful flowers from all over the world. The fern-leaf peony, royal azaleas, and schrenck's tulips felt as if they had been watered by her tears.

  To those she had left behind, this place was probably hell.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Maxim

  Every eye was on me the moment Freya left the room, and for the first time in a very long time the urge to laugh came over me. She was something else and I was filled with reluctant admiration for her courage.

  “Maxim,” my father said, his voice heavy. “What are you going to do about this?”

  I took my time. “You heard her,” I said. “She doesn’t want to get married.”

  “Yes, but what are you going to do about this?” my father asked, a hint of irritation showing.

  “I can do many things, father,” I replied, “but forcing a woman to the altar against her will is not one of them.”

  My father looked almost lost. He turned to Freya’s father whose face was red with anger. “What does your daughter want? Why is she so against this?”

  “She wants her freedom,” Levan answered.

  Like a drowning man suddenly spying a bit of flotsam my father turned to him desperately. “And that she will have. Maxim is not going to restrain her.”

  “She might also be scared,” Bianca added gently. “About having to live a life of worry about Maxim’s safety. I know I was terrified for Levan.”

  “Well that does not make any sense,” Freya’s father interjected impatiently. “This is her life. She was born into it.”

  “But she didn’t choose it and she is doing that right now. Choosing something different for herself.”

  “Bianca,” her father said. “It is not her fate to choose. She must accept Maxim. There is too much at stake. New players have entered the field and I will not be here forever to protect her. The only person who can make sure she will always be safe is Maxim. Do you have any idea how we can get her to accept Maxim?”

  I watched as Levan turned to her with interest, his hand braced under his chin as he waited for her answer.

  She looked first to Levan, then back to Freya’s father. “She needs to fall in love with Maxim.”

  Her words were not music to either of our fathers’ ears. They leaned back heavily in their chairs.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Freya

  I sensed Maxim before I heard him.

  The nerves in my body were tingling, the way a deer will twitch when it smells something harmful in the air, but in the mix of that alertness was also an excited buzz that made the tiny hairs on my body stand to attention. I tried not to notice or care but when he was so close to me that I could feel the heat from his body and smell his wildly expensive custom after-shave, I gritted my teeth and whirled around.

  It turned out that he wasn’t in fact as close to me as I had imagined, but he did have two glasses of red wine in his hands. He offered one to me.

  I stared at it for the longest time, wondering whether to take it.

  “Yes, it’s poisoned,” he said, his lips twisting into a wry smile, and my hand immediately reached for it.

  I sipped my wine as we both kept our eyes on the massive fountain of the garden. It seemed as though it would have been just perfect for us both to remain there forever. I didn’t like the thought, so I turned around to face him.

  “I should leave,” I said.

  He nodded without even looking at me. “Go ahead.”

  His words hurt and I sank my teeth into my lower lip with fury at my own weakness. How appealing he looked in that moment under the star lit night. If only, in another life, under different circumstances.

  Before I could stop myself, I found my lips moving. “Do you want to marry me? Or are you just doing this because it is a request from your father?”

  “It is a request …” he began, then trailed away, his gaze fluttering down to my lips.

  All of a sudden, my mouth felt dry. I pulled my gaze up to his. His eyes bore into mine. He knew. He knew about the sizzling attraction that existed inside me for him. I felt exposed and almost mocked.

  “It is a request… that I do not mind,” he finished softly.

  “Why?” I asked. “We don’t even like each other.”

  “You do not like me,” he corrected. “I don’t have a problem with you.”

  “Oh.”

  Suddenly I couldn’t bear it anymore. The scent of the flowers mixed with his luxurious colog
ne, the nearness of his body, the look in his eyes, the way my body was responding to that look. I felt as if I was a mouse being hypnotized by a massive, highly colored snake. I was being drawn into his lethal spell. A spell from which I could never recover.

  With a shake of my head I took a long backwards step away from him.

  His mouth opened to say something, but I didn’t wait to hear it. I couldn’t. He was too dangerous to my sanity. I fled as if the hounds of hell itself were chasing me. I arrived back at the dining room to see that my dad had risen to his feet and seemed like he was ready to leave. He gave me a look of extreme disappointment, but he did not say anything. I’d never felt more relieved. We didn’t speak, but I did politely say my goodbyes to Maxim's father, Levan, and Bianca.

  “Let me know if you need any help with your wedding,” I said to her.

  “Actually,” she said sweetly. “I will. I want to wear your jewelry on my big day. I saw a really gorgeous necklace when we were at your place. Perhaps I can pick out that piece for me and some other stuff for my bridesmaids?”

  “Really?” I breathed.

  “Yes,” she said. “I’ll come to your office and we can go from there.”

  I tried to get myself together. “That would be awesome.”

  “And we’ll try to get them photographed and carried in some publication.”

  I was so shocked I looked from Bianca to Levan. “Are you guys trying to bribe me?”

  “I’m not,” Levan replied. “Bianca just likes supporting everyone.”

  “Take my phone number,” Bianca said.

  In a daze I took her phone number, accepted her embrace, and soon we were on our way. The ride back with my father was not at all comfortable. Not one word left his lips. It would be much better if he had screamed and condemned me. The complete silence made me feel horrible. From the time I was a child I always knew, in our world, every minute with each other could be our last. That I should never squander it.