Web of Lies

by Elizabeth Knox

  “Sorry. I don’t follow.”

  “About not being as bad as they say. You seem to be kind, and if you’re faking it you do an excellent job.”

  “I am a Volkolv. I can fake what I need to,” I joke, but catch the way her face falls into worry. “I’ll reiterate that I’m not being misleading when it comes to you, Sofia. My last . . . relationship was one where there was a lot of lying going on. Obviously not on my end. I want to make sure we’re not like that. More importantly, I want you to like me.”

  Her expression still looks worrisome. “I’d like to ask you about your wife, if you’re open to it. I’ve heard rumors but I’m not sure if there’s any truth to them.”

  I nod, “Sure, but let’s change things up from the café to the bar across the street. We need some vodka if we’re going to dive into that.”

  Sofia gives me a half-smile, “Sure. I’ll just change really quick.”

  “Please, go right ahead,” I say, standing firm in my position against the wall.

  “Um, aren’t you going to give me some privacy?” she asks, raising her brows. Obviously this makes her uncomfortable, but in a super sexy way.

  I shake my head from side to side, “No, I’m not. You’re my fiancée and in my opinion, I have every right to see that body of yours, the same way you have every right to see mine.” Fuck, I forgot she’s a virgin. No wonder she seems so shy.

  “Uh . . .” Sofia goes quiet, turns her face into the direction of the wardrobe and picks up two hangers. She’s grabbed a pair of fitted pants with an eggplant purple sweater. While it would fit normal on a Russian woman, I bet it’ll stop at her knees since she’s shorter.

  I chuckle lightly, “I’m just toying with you, Sofia. My humor might be brash, but you’ll get used to it in time,” I add a wink on at the end and walk toward the bedroom door. “Come outside when you’re ready and we’ll head out.”

  “Okay,” she replies and I open the door, head out of the room and shut the door behind me.

  Within a matter of five minutes Sofia is walking toward me, looking like a beautiful caramel candy. “I’m ready,” she says, and I lead her down the hallway, cut across the living room and walk down another corridor until we reach the entry into our penthouse. Before we leave I grab my coat and slide it over my shoulders.

  As we get into the elevator that will take us down to the lobby Sofia keeps picking up her feet, slamming her boots down onto the floor. “Everything okay?” I inquire.

  She scrunches up her nose, “No, I hate these. They’re so big and bulky.” Her accent comes out a bit thicker than usual and causes me to chuckle. For the first time since meeting her I get an anger-fueled glare and instead of pissing me off, it excites me.

  “You’ll get used to them in time. They protect your feet from the snow and keep your toes nice and toasty.”

  A few moments of silence pass us by when the elevator doors open up to the lobby. We both walk out into the vast space and I wrap my arm around her waist as we move forward, planting it on her hip. Everyone in our building will know Sofia is my woman, and no one will insult me by staring too long at what belongs to me.

  Just as we come to the front doors of our building, I realize Sofia didn’t grab one of the coats from her wardrobe so I start to take off my coat and catch her furrowing brows trained on me. “What are you doing?” she asks.

  “I’m making sure you’re warm. I’m used to our frigid winters; however, you aren’t.” Sofia flashes a quick, bright smile before she changes her expression to something that can’t be so easily read.

  I hold the coat out for her and wait as she slides her arms through the sleeves, then return my arm around her waist to hold her hip as we walk outside onto the street. “Dios Mio. I’m glad you put this coat on me. Gracias.”

  While we may have started off in Mexico in a gruesome way I’m hopeful Sofia can clearly see I’m not the same as my father. I want her to know me as Valentin, not as a Volkolv. It takes us a couple of minutes to get across the street because the traffic is so busy this time of day. Most of the corporate offices have just left, so everyone is meeting up for drinks or on their way home to their families.

  The hostess must see me heading toward the door and rushes out to open it for me. Everyone in this city knows who I am. More importantly, they know to show me every ounce of respect I deserve.

  “Mr. Volkolv, would you like your usual table?” the tall, stick-thin blonde woman asks. I’ve seen her a few times here but have never cared to learn her name.

  I give her a curt nod and she leads us to the back of the restaurant where they have a booth reserved for my family to give us a more intimate experience. There’s only one way in and out of this joint, which is the door that leads into it.

  I allow Sofia to slide in first and go in after her, careful to make sure the gun I have holstered under my suit jacket is secure. Thank fuck for shoulder holsters. Whether I’m walking across the street or am in the privacy of my own home I can guarantee I’m packing some heat.

  The two of us have some small conversation while the waitress brings our wine out to the table. I ordered a red, seeing as Sofia was drinking red wine yesterday. Alcohol is bound to loosen us both up a bit. Since Anastasia I haven’t exactly been the most trusting of people.

  Sofia picks up her glass of wine and swirls it around, inhaling the scent before she takes a sip. “What did you just do there?” I ask her.

  “I savored the wine with every sense I could. Don’t you prefer to enjoy life in any way you can?”

  “Interesting. I’ve never done that. I’ll have to try,” I reply.

  “Yes, you will. Now, didn’t you say we were having vodka?” The waitress walks by just as Sofia speaks and I raise up my hand, signaling for them to bring us a bottle of their very best.

  “You mentioned my wife. May I ask what you know?” I inquire, needing to see her expression as we venture into this subject.

  “I only know that she died, and rumor has it you were responsible,” Sofia says with her eyes on mine. The waitress brings us a bottle of vodka and starts to place two shot glasses on the table. However, I wave her off.

  “We have no need for those. Thank you, though. Now, will you give us some privacy while we chat?”

  “Da, of course Mr. Volkolv.” The waitress disappears and I grab the bottle of vodka, taking a heavy chug and allow the liquor to burn down my throat until it settles in my stomach before I hand it to Sofia.

  “I was responsible for my wife’s death. Although, to be fair things aren’t simple when it comes to our situation. She was trying to get me thrown into jail. Anastasia was working with the government, supplying evidence to ruin the Volkolv family.”

  Sofia’s eyes widen. Surely, she understands the severity of how Anastasia destroyed everything we had together with her brash actions. “I’m so sorry. But, I had heard your son was with her when she was executed.”

  Shutting my eyes, I nod, hating that I have to admit this. “The man I hired . . . he didn’t listen to what I required of him. He did it with the boys around. I was hoping he’d take care of her while I was out of town with my son and stepson, however I wasn’t so lucky.”

  “Stepson?” Sofia questions.

  I nod, “Yes, Anastasia had a son before our child was born. Aleksei was also there when his mother was shot. It infuriates me to this day, makes me angrier than anything else. You can’t un-see things like that. Aleksei will be scarred until the day he dies.”

  “I didn’t know you had a stepson.”

  “Yes, he isn’t mine by blood but I treat him as though he is. His little brother needs him.” Sofia surprises me when she reaches her hand out across the table and places her hand over my own.

  “Family is the most important, above all else. I don’t know you well, Valentin, but if I’m being honest you continue to flabbergast me. I mean that in the best way possible, of course.”

  A warming sensation swarms across my chest. I haven’t felt this i
n years. Fuck, not since Anastasia. I lean in closer to Sofia, snake my hand around her neck and slowly inch my way closer to her until my eyes are on hers and our lips are merely a millimeter apart. “I would like to kiss you now. Do you object?”

  Instead of an answer Sofia tilts her head, pressing her lips against my own. I can tell she’s inexperienced with her novice style, unsure of how to kiss. Although, every movement she’s making is sinfully sweet. Knowing she’s a virgin eggs me on even more, causes my cock to grow hard under my pants but I can’t act. When I take my sweet fiancée, it will be something she won’t be expecting.

  I just have to calm the beast and take my time with this one, but damn, I just know she’ll be worth the wait.

  Chapter Seven

  Don’t trust words, trust actions

  ~Unknown

  Sofia

  It feels like I blinked and the last week has flown by. I’ve spent every day with Valentin watching how he handles business— the little I’ve seen of it— and touring around Moscow with him. Yesterday we went into the red square and Valentin educated me on the history of Moscow. Apparently, back in the olden days the square used to be where merchants would bring their carts and set up their stands. It was known as the heart of Moscow and some still believe it is to this very day. In this day and age the President lives in the Royal Citadel. It has been enlightening to spend so much time with Valentin over the last week. Not only have we been able to bond and get to know one another, but I believe I am starting to understand the type of man he is and his character.

  One thing I’m not too fond of is how Fredrik lives only a few minutes away, and he’s constantly in the apartment. You’d think he’s physically holding a leash on his son, being as close as he is. Something about Fredrik gives me the creeps and makes me want to stay far away from him. I mean, I know I’m not wrong in feeling the way I do. He’s the one who ordered my hymen get checked like I’m some woman back in the seventeen-hundreds. Even more than that, he fucking drugged me like a dog. While I understand I need to put my trust in my fiancé, I will never be able to trust his father. He’s already shown me with his actions how deceitful he is.

  Today Valentin and I are staying in the apartment because Aleksei and Aleksandr are coming back from a short holiday trip they took with their nanny, Natalia. He informed me last night that he asked her to take them on a trip up North for a week while he and I became acquainted with one another. I told him he was ridiculous and we could’ve done everything we had with the children, but he disagreed telling me that an eight-year-old and a four-year-old screaming and running around wouldn’t exactly have given us time to focus on the two of us.

  “When are they supposed to get here?” I ask Valentin, who’s sitting beside me on the couch.

  He glances up at the clock hanging on the wall, “Any minute now I suppose. However, Natalia is always late when it comes to the boys.”

  “What do you mean by that?” I question, not really understanding.

  “Oh, she will just spend more time allowing them to do the fun, silly things they want to versus sticking to a schedule. When I originally hired her, I complained to her religiously, but she stuck her ground and told me the boys should enjoy their childhood. After that, I simply allow it to happen. It took another person telling me to implement it in their lives. My boys' lives won’t always be so carefree, so I’d rather they enjoy every moment they can while it lasts.”

  I smile, nodding. “She sounds like a lovely person with good insight.”

  “She is. I’m lucky to have found a woman like her.” Something in the way Valentin speaks causes me to feel like I was punched in the gut. Surely, he didn’t mean it the way it came out, however it stung quite a bit.

  Before I can express my feelings I hear the deadbolt turning and trampling feet come running down the corridor. Valentin rises from the couch and opens up his arms for the two running children, “Moi mal’chiki! Vy khorosho proveli vremya s Natalia?” I don’t understand a word of what Valentin is saying to his sons, but the taller one who must be Aleksei starts excitedly replying.

  Words come flying out of his mouth and his younger brother, Aleksandr starts adding in a few choice words here and there. After a few minutes of replying back and forth Valentin chuckles, places a hand on each of his boys’ shoulders and looks over to me, “We should practice our English so Sofia can understand us, da?”

  Aleksei looks over to me with judgmental eyes and replies to his stepfather. Valentin cuts him off mid-way through his sentence, “We must speak in English because Sofia doesn’t understand what we are saying.”

  “Then she must learn to speak Russian like we must learn to speak English,” The spirited young boy states, shooting a glare over to me.

  Valentin looks like he’s angered for a moment and is about to reply hastily, but I put up my hand and speak instead. “In time I hope I can learn your language. But you’ll need to help me. Is that okay?” The boy with thick, dark brown hair chuckles at my question.

  “Obviously I’ll help you. You must learn from the best. Who else than a Russian boy, right, otchim?” He looks to Valentin as he finishes, obviously questioning him.

  “Yes, now tell her what otchim means,” Valentin instructs the boy.

  “It . . . means stepfather.”

  Valentin smiles with joy, “Good job, Aleksei. Now, Aleksandr why are you acting so shy?” My attention is shifted to the smaller version of Aleksei who hides behind his older brother.

  Aleksandr spits out his words so quickly that I don’t even think what he’s said is an actual language, but when Aleksei and Valentin both burst into laughter he must’ve said something good. Valentin holds his hands out to his youngest son, urging him to come into his embrace and the little boy goes into his father’s arms. “Aleksei, please tell Sofia what Aleksandr said.”

  Aleksei grins widely, “My little brother thinks you are very beautiful and wants to marry you, but he’s too chicken to ask.”

  My heart warms up from the sweet nature Aleksandr has. Valentin runs his hand through Aleksandr’s dark hair and snickers, “I’m afraid you cannot marry Sofia, my syn. It would be me who is doing that.”

  “Ah, you are the fiancée,” a woman’s voice states. While I’ve not been around too many nannies in my life, I feel as though Natalia is dressed as a prostitute. She’s wearing a tight skirt, with a blouse where her bosom is amply on display.

  I stand up from the couch and nod, extending my hand out to Natalia as a way to show respect. She obviously sees my hand but shoots me a glare and then looks to Valentin. “Val, I’ll be in my room. If you or the boys need me, please let me know.” Natalia changes her attention back to me before she starts walking away. “It was lovely to meet you, Sarah.”

  Val? Since when does he go by Val? I roll my eyes and look to Valentin expecting to get some sort of answer out of him. Now isn’t the time, though. Right now we need to focus on the children. We have a private dinner tonight anyway. I’ll be sure to bring up how I’m uncomfortable this woman is living in our home as well.

  No one ever treats me that way and gets away with it.

  Chapter Eight

  Be kind and full of love… but have boundaries like a motherfucker

  ~Unknown

  Sofia

  “Are they all tuckered out?” I ask Valentin, who comes from the boys' shared bedroom. He nods almost instantly.

  “Yes, it must be quite exhausting to spend their entire day with such a wench,” he says coming up beside me as he flutters his fingertips against the back of my neck. We walk side by side down the hallway into the kitchen. “Do you want to eat, or would you rather hit the hay yourself?”

  The boys wanted to eat dinner with us, so we opted to make our dinner a family affair. Valentin cooked a full traditional meal for me. We had chicken Kiev which is chicken breast stuffed with cheese, mushroom, and various herbs. The outside is breaded and baked in oil. He served the chicken with something called mors, which is
a sweetened berry juice I think. It’s what it reminded me of anyways.

  “I’m stuffed. I could always go for a drink, though,” I admit, needing one for the conversation I’m about to have with Valentin.

  He chuckles, “Good thinking. I imagine I have some vodka around here somewhere.”

  I snort at his sarcastic tone and watch as he goes into the cabinet above the refrigerator and pulls out a bottle of vodka. Just like at the restaurant he doesn’t bother handing me a glass. Instead he takes the cap off and hands me the bottle. I take a couple of gulps before giving the bottle back to him. The alcohol should give me a bit of courage when it comes to discussing the massive elephant in the room named Natalia.

  “You seem like there’s something on your mind,” he states.

  “Oh, there is. Have no doubt about that,” I respond, trying to think of a mature way to bring this up. We’ve only known each other for a week and I don’t want him to think I’m coming in here to disrupt his life.

  “Whatever it is, I can tell it’s frustrating you,” Valentin states, placing the bottle down on the kitchen counter. “What is it, Sofia?” He moves closer to me, putting those ice-cold hands of his on my body. Any time he does I feel a bolt of lightning course through me, almost as if he sparks me to life.

  I take in a deep breath and stare past Valentin into the dark accents of his kitchen. I haven’t seen anything quite like it, with jet black matte cabinets and gold accessories. The man has a thing for gold, that’s for certain. “I’m not a big fan of the disrespect I received from Natalia earlier today. I offered her my hand as a way to show her while she is below our hierarchy, I respect and appreciate what she does for us. But instead of taking my hand and acting like an adult should, she ignored me, spoke to you and called me by another name on purpose.”

  Immediately Valentin’s expression shifts from down to earth to irate. From the looks of it, I’m not the only one who noticed she was being a bitch. He clenches his jaw and balls his hand into a fist on the island. “I want to firstly apologize for her crass behavior. Natalia knows not to test my limits when it comes to people in our family. She was trying to make a jab at me today and used you to air out her frustrations. However, they should’ve been directed at me. Not you.”