by Bella King
“Good idea,” I reply as more shots ring off outside of the vault. My hand grips tight around the black plastic of Rurik’s pistol. “What are we going to do?”
Rurik smiles at me, his blue eyes twinkling as he picks up a grenade. “We’re starting fresh today, Violet, just you and me. Let’s get out of here and blow this place to bits.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Rurik climbs up first, making sure that Theta-Y hasn’t infiltrated the statue yet. I doubt they know that we’re in here, so it won’t be hard to slip out and toss a grenade in before they surround the temple completely.
“Coast is clear,” Rurik says, reaching a large hand out to help me up.
I feel calmer with Rurik in charge of things. He’s probably done stuff like this a thousand times, and he already has a plan to get us out of here. The temple has a back exit with several cars parked there. The monk will be able to give us access to them if we can find him.
I climb into the white square room as Rurik jumps toward the doorway with his rifle aimed outside to make sure we have a clear path to the back of the temple. We’re already close because we’re in the statue, so unless Theta-Y has taken over the entire building already, we should be fine.
“Why are they shooting?” I ask, rushing up to Rurik with the pistol held against my thigh. I’m afraid to point it out in case I pull the trigger by accident.
“Because our guards are here,” Rurik says. “I sent them a message to protect the building when I realized the vault was actually in the temple.”
“So, they’re going to fight off Theta-Y,” I say, breathing a sigh of relief.
“Doubtful,” Rurik says, shaking his head. “Theta-Y will be out in full force. They can only hold them off for a little while until they breach the temple. We need to get out of here.”
“So, throw the grenade, and let’s go,” I say, poking my head out into the courtyard. There doesn’t appear to be anyone there yet.
Rurik waves at me to move forward. “Go, and I’ll blow this up.”
I shake my head, placing a hand on my hip. “No way I’m leaving without you. Blow this shit up, and let’s go.”
Rurik scoffs at me but doesn’t argue. He knows that I just want definitive proof that he actually tossed the grenade. I’m not one to trust something that I don’t see with my own two eyes.
Rurik pulls the pin from the grenade and opens the hatch, tossing it down and slamming the hatch shut. He runs toward the exit, grabbing my arm and yanking me out the door. I nearly lose grip of my gun as I fly out with him.
I can feel the heavy vibration in the brick floor as the boom of the explosion goes off underground. I hope that it’s enough to destroy everything. It’s the best that we can do with such short notice.
“Shoot them,” an angry voice yells from behind Rurik and me as we run toward the back of the temple.
I turn my head just as the rapid-fire of machineguns breaks out in the courtyard. William, along with a hoard of angry henchmen, begins shooting at Rurik and me as we run. Rurik fires shots backward, not bothering to look where he’s aiming as we run to the door.
I pop off a few shots, feeling the power of the pistol in my hand and liking it. I aim for William specifically, and I watch in awe as he clutches his shoulder and turns away. I hit him.
I have no time to celebrate before Rurik yanks me through the back exit of the temple and practically throws me outside in the backyard. As a stumble out, I see the flash of an orange robe hopping into a topless jeep parked next to the building.
“Get inside,” the monk says, patting the seat beside him.
Rurik places his hands firmly around my waist and hoists me up into the passenger’s seat, leaping into the back and hanging out with his rifle pointed at the backdoor of the temple as the monk steps on the gas pedal.
I grip the edge of the doorframe as the monk spins the vehicle around and zooms toward the side of the building to evade Theta-Y. I’ve never seen a man in an orange robe drive a car, but I guess they’re allowed to. He seems to know what he’s doing.
“Go, go, go,” Rurik shouts before firing his rifle at the rear exit to hold off the enemy as we round the corner of the building.
“Rurik, in front of us,” I yell as I see men jumping into the path of the jeep as the monk tears through the side yard of the temple toward them. I doubt he’ll run them down, knowing his nature, but we need to clear the way.
Rurik spins around and smacks the barrel of his rifle down on top of the windshield, cracking off a few shots to make the men scatter. We’re moving so fast that this entire thing happens in just a few seconds before we fly into the front of the building where the majority of Theta-Y are located.
There are several overturned cars, a few lifeless bodies, and a burning bush in front of the temple. It’s a warzone, but one that the battle has already been fought and lost in. I don’t see any of the Sommer mafia men still alive.
The monk veers off onto the road and bounces across the asphalt in the topless jeep. The suspension on the vehicle is almost enough to send me flying out of the car, but I manage to keep a grip on the edge of my seat enough to keep me from splattering across the road. I’ve already done that once today, and at these speeds, it would be far more likely to kill me.
As we race down the road in the hot California sun, I begin to feel alright, like everything that has happened in the past few days was for a reason. Everything is coming together now, and once we get away from Theta-Y, Rurik and I are going to do very well together.
Rurik climbs down from his perch near the front of the jeep and puts his gun down on the backseat, leaning forward again to speak with the monk. “I think Violet is hungry,” he says. “How about we stop for some food once we’re clear of the threat.”
The monk smiles. “Lunchtime,” he exclaims.
I shake my head, smiling at the two of them. For both of them, this almost seems like a regular day. The monk is too calm to care about the excitement, and Rurik was born into this kind of action. I’m the only one here that’s still gripping a gun like someone is going to run out into the road and start firing on me.
I put the gun down beside me and turn my body to face Rurik better. The wind rushes through my auburn curls, blowing them into a frizzy mess in the air. I don’t care, though, as long as I’m with the man who is sworn to protect me.
“Rurik,” I say, looking at his bright blue eyes in the sun.
“What’s up?” he asks, smiling at me with his perfect teeth.
“Nothing, other than the fact that I think I love you,” I say, not caring what his reaction will be. Maybe it’s the thrill, or maybe it was the sex, or maybe it was just the way he handled himself the past few days, but I think I’m falling for this man, and I want him to know what he’s gotten himself into.
Rurik laughs and pushes the dark-brown hair that’s fallen into his forehead out of the way, speaking loudly over the wind. “I love you too, Violet.”
Epilogue
Some things change, while others don’t. The things that I said to Rurik didn’t change. He’s still the man I want to be with for the rest of my life. I still love him. Now, I do more than ever. He’s still my protector, but now he’ll be protecting another person. I know he can rise up to the responsibility, but I’m still nervous about telling him.
I step up to the large cherrywood door separating Rurik’s office from the rest of the house. He often locks himself in there when he’s doing “boring work,” as he calls it. That usually includes finances and payroll. The mafia is a business, after all.
My heart thuds in my chest as I scrunch my toes up against the soft carpet beneath my feet. I shouldn’t be so nervous about this, but I can’t help it. For me, it’s a huge deal, even if I know he’ll be okay with it.
I take a deep breath before giving the door a gentle knock. Part of me hopes that he won’t even hear it so that I don’t have to tell him yet, but another part of me knows that I can’t wait. I’m brimming
with excitement, and I can’t keep quiet until he’s finished. That would be a whole three hours from now.
“Yes?” Rurik calls from inside of the room, his baritone voice muffled by the thick door.
“Can I come in?” I ask sheepishly, placing my hands behind my back.
I hear the sound of Rurik getting up from his chair and walking to the door before it opens. He leans out, a look of concern on his handsome face. “Is everything okay?”
I smile at him, but my hand is trembling as I bring the pregnancy test out from behind me and hold it up to him. “We’re going to have a baby,” I say, my voice cracking near the end of my sentence.
Several emotions flash through Rurik’s face as he processes the news that I’ve given him. Finally, his face breaks out into an excited smile, stretching from either side of his strong, square jaw. “That’s fantastic,” he says, his eyes lighting up and he grabs me in a bearhug.
I press my face into his chest, laughing with tears in my eyes at his reaction. Nobody could ever me better for me than Rurik, and that’s a fact. Mafia or not, we’re going to be parents.
I lean back, looking into his glorious eyes, soaking in his excited reaction. He smiles at me, his face soft and joyful at the news. He leans in for a kiss, and my lips part, accepting his soul into mine. We’re perfect together, and that’s how it will always be.
The End.
Mafia Bride
Viktor
There’s only one reason I’m marrying her, and it’s not because of her irresistible hips and pouty lips, although those are a plus.
I need her, and I will do anything to make sure I get her.
And she better behave.
I’m sick of women acting up. She should know her place the second she arrives.
Cora
I’m destined to marry a man I’ve never met.
He claims to be a politician, but I doubt it.
Politicians aren’t 250 pounds of pure muscle, with a thick Russian accent and a face so handsome that it would have me forgive even the greatest of sins.
I know that he’s up to something, but arrangements are final.
There’s no turning back from fate, no matter how cruel it can be.
Mafia Bride is a Standalone Arranged Marriage Mafia Romance
Chapter One
Cora
Not all women are out looking for their prince charming. Some of them are sitting on the porch swing, drinking an overly sweet iced coffee that had to be delivered by a bodyguard because they’re not allowed to leave the estate property, and humming a wedding song for a man they’ve never laid eyes on.
Some women marry for love. Others, like me, will marry for political reasons.
You would think that society had moved beyond marriages like that. People my age link up with their college sweetheart, buy a house together, get a few pets, have a baby or two, then divorce ten years down the road. Unfortunately, that’s not my destiny, and divorce is strictly out of the question.
I’m supposed to meet my suitor this evening, and I’d be lying if I say I’m not a sickening mixture of excitement and anxiety. I can’t be blamed for how I feel, of course. I’m marrying a man that I’ve never met before, and it’s because my father advised it.
I never see my father unless he wants something from me. The last time I laid eyes on him was when he came to tell me that he had a potential suitor picked out for me. He made it sound like I had a choice in the matter, and technically I do, but why push back against one of the most powerful men in the country? It won’t get me anywhere but cast out onto the street, and there are good reasons why I don’t go out there.
I’ve never been off government property alone. I’m not allowed to wander freely. Politicians’ daughters are prime targets for kidnappers and terrorists, neither of which I fancy spending any amount of time with. I’d much rather stay home if it puts me at risk to go out.
I take a sip of my iced coffee and look at the bulky man standing on the porch across from me. “Could you get them to put less sugar in this next time?” I ask, swirling the half-melted ice cubes around in a large plastic cup.
The bodyguard nods. “Yes, ma’am.”
They always talk like that. You can’t have a proper conversation with a bodyguard. They’re hired to look mean and keep people away from me, not to talk. Sometimes, I talk to them and tell them about my day, but they don’t say much back. It’s always one-sided.
That wouldn’t be so bad if I had any friends, but I don’t. How am I supposed to when I never see anyone aside from old men with white hair and permanent scowls etched into their wrinkled faces. I hope that my husband doesn’t look like that.
I’m not terribly worried about the man I am destined to marry, however. As long as he isn’t eighty, I think that we’ll be able to get along. I’m sure that at the very least, I’ll enjoy having consistent company. Maybe he’ll even be attractive, but that might be too much to ask. I’d settle for a man with a sense of humor and a pleasant demeanor.
I take another sip of my cold coffee and lean back on the porch swing, placing my hand down on the worn wooden armrest. The air is just hot enough to warrant an iced drink, but not hot enough to reduce me to a sweaty blob of pink flesh. It’ll get to be that hot in a month’s time, but for now, I’m enjoying the weather.
I run my fingers listlessly through the grooves that I’ve left in the armrest with my fingernails over the years, considering getting up to go for a walk around the estate. There are 53 acres of grass, woods, gardens, ponds, and tennis courts to explore, but I usually stick to the same path. Otherwise, I’m required to have a bodyguard with me. What’s the point of meandering through the woods when it’s ruined by someone breathing down my neck?
I stand up from the porch swing, and my bare feet make contact with the canary yellow dusting of pollen on the floor. It gets thicker every day, but thankfully I don’t have bad allergies. The worst I’ve experienced is an increased rate of sneezing.
I lift up my foot and look at the pollen stuck to my sole. That’s a good enough reason to wear shoes outside, but the grass feels so good between my toes that I opt to go without them. I can always rinse the pollen and dirt off my feet before I go back inside.
The coffee sloshes around in my clear cup as I jump down the stairs and off the porch, not bothering to take them normally. The bodyguard shoots me a glance, always on the lookout for a sprained ankle or any variety of dangers that I like to put myself in. It wouldn’t be the first time one of them had to retrieve me from the ground after I got too confident in my athletic abilities.
I give him a thumbs-up as I walk away from the house, silently telling him that I’m not going too far away. I’m sure he’ll be watching me anyway, but at least I get to have some personal space as I stroll through the perfectly maintained acre of grass that resides at the front of the house.
I’m going to fantasize about the perfect man, no doubt setting myself up for disappointment when my suitor arrives later today. I know it’s unrealistic, but I want to be pleasantly surprised by the man with whom I must spend the rest of my life.
I squint through the rays of the pineapple sun as I begin my lap around the house, already concocting images of a mild-mannered man who injects some excitement into my boring life.
Chapter Two
Viktor
This better work.
There’s only one reason I’m marrying her, and it’s not because of her irresistible hips and pouty lips, although those are a plus. I’m marrying Cora Lauder because she will bring me one step closer to ultimate power in this country, and she’ll be none the wiser.
I look through images of her as though I was choosing a model for a photoshoot, tossing them onto the black leather seat in the back of my limousine as my driver takes me to the Lauder Estate. Cora has blonde hair and suntanned skin, like a southern girl who never had a single responsibility in her entire life. I can only hope she doesn’t turn out to be an insufferable brat. She shou
ld know her place around me.
I must be careful not to anger her outright, even though I tend to be strict with my subordinates. I must be a perfect gentleman so that no suspicion is aroused until the wedding. After that, all bets are off. She will bow to me as though I were king. I might as well be after I’ve been sworn into the Lauder family.
I flip through another candid polaroid photo of Cora. Her eyes are a stunning gray, with just the slightest hint of blue tinting her irises. I’m going to enjoy this woman immensely, but that’s after the job is done. I can’t go astray on my mission. I paid eleven million dollars to her father to be considered as a suitor, and I can’t afford to make a mistake.
“Sir,” my driver calls from the front of the limo. “We will arrive at the Lauder Estate in five minutes.”
“Very good,” I reply before I gather up the photos of Cora, tucking them into the inner pocket of my black suit jacket. I want her to believe that this is the first time I am seeing her, as though it were a normal arranged marriage. She can’t know the secrets I hold.
I recline in my seat, looking out of the tinted window at the increasingly posh surroundings until we arrive at the first checkpoint. The Lauder Estate requires heavy screening before entry, and it’s closed to the public. However, a few million seems to be enough to convince them to let a Russian mafia boss step onto their pristine lawn. It’s not so secure after all.
A knock on the glass lets me know that I will have to change vehicles upon entry into the estate. I’ve been here before, but I was with Jonathan Lauder, who is Cora’s father and a ruthless politician. With him, all we had to do was to give a curt nod to the guards on our way in, but I don’t have that luxury now that I’m coming alone.