by Sam Crescent
After years of being hit or whipped by my father, I figured I’d be used to it.
When he removed a piece of glass, his fingers paused on a spot at my back. “This is an old scar,” he said.
I stayed perfectly still.
Whenever my father beat me, he’d rarely take me to the hospital. One day, he’d been so angry about something. I’d been skipping down the hall. He’d told me I was making too much noise and girls, especially ugly ones, needed to know when to stay quiet. He’d torn my dress, removed his belt, and whipped me until there had been blood.
It was the first time he’d used his belt.
The doctor had no choice but to use stitches to help heal the wound. The scar had remained. For several months, he never came near me. I did get more toys after that.
The memory of it was so strange and sudden. Along with many others, I’d pushed it to the back of my mind so I didn’t think about it.
Life got easier that way.
I said nothing.
The sound of the door opening had Sergei tensing.
The doctor cleared his throat as Slavik came into the room.
“What is going on?” he asked.
I saw his shirt was covered in blood. There was some bruising on his face, and I saw a cut on his side that already had a white bandage covering it. Life was so unfair. Why did he have to look so good while I got to look like this?
“She had some superficial wounds. The glass wasn’t too deep. She has a couple of cuts, but in a few days, they’ll heal. I see no reason to apply stitches.”
“Are you done?”
“Yes.”
“Leave,” Slavik said.
With the way he looked at me, fear raced down my spine. I don’t know what was happening right now, but the doctor quickly packed away his stuff.
Sergei hesitated, but Slavik repeated the order.
Alone. I stared at my husband.
“You knew that man tonight,” Slavik said.
“Not personally, but I recognized him. He worked for my father.”
“Do you have any idea why he’d attack that party?”
“He’s an idiot?”
“This is not a joke.”
“I have no idea. I’ve been trying to figure out why they would attack the party. None of it makes any sense to me.” I told the truth. I had nothing to hide.
****
Slavik
The attack had come from the Italian mafia. They were Fredo’s men, but I also noticed they were not his close, most trusted men. They were a small group of soldiers, and several men had been outsourced with clear training. I already had my computer guy run a check on all of the men we’d killed. Their IDs had to be fakes.
I’d expected an attack at the party, but not from Fredo.
We had enemies far and wide. Some from within the Bratva.
Ivan had taken the brotherhood into a new era, and some preferred the old ways of dealing dirty and hiding in the shadow. However, Ivan had an idea that expanded across all areas. It was why we were all wealthy and had several businesses across all industries. It gave us ties across the entire world and not just in one city.
Where the old generation was happy to be on the streets, taking on the weak, Ivan went after the strong to make his force even stronger. We all worked together.
Staring down at my wife, I had to ask the questions now. Ivan wanted her for questioning. With how she looked, she wouldn’t survive it. She’d been petrified. “What is going to happen?”
“Volkov wants to talk to you.”
Her lip wobbled. “Of course he does.” She nibbled on her lip. “I had nothing to do this with. I swear. I saw an opportunity with Roger Hampton, it’s not a ploy.”
“I know.”
She gasped. “You do?”
“I saw the way the man attacked you. I was getting to you. If you’d been part of this, you’d have seen it coming.” I had no doubt she was innocent of this attack, but now, I was curious. Her father sent in those men, knowing we’d turn to her.
I rounded the table and looked down at her back. There were several cuts, and the doctor had put some Band-Aids on the worst ones. The others already had dried blood on them.
“Change quickly. Ivan doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”
She stood up, holding the towel to her chest. “If … if I have to die tonight, will you be the one asked to kill me?”
I gritted my teeth. She knew our world so well. From the look in her eyes, she seemed devastated. I’d never taken the time to read people for these kinds of emotions. I wasn’t sure if I liked what I saw in her eyes.
“Get dressed,” I said. Without another word, I turned my back and left the bedroom.
I folded my arms and waited. Sergei stood, ready and waiting. Over the past few weeks, I’d started to notice the way he looked at my wife. I didn’t like it.
“Sergei, you know your job is to protect my wife,” I said.
“Of course, sir.” He bowed his head, performing all the necessary respectful moves, but I didn’t see it, and he knew it.
“Keep your eyes off my woman or I’m going to have to remove you from this position and find someone else who can follow my rules.”
Sergei didn’t get a chance to respond as Aurora chose that moment to appear in a pair of jeans and a crisp white shirt. Not exactly the choice of clothing I’d have recommended.
I took the lead, not complaining, grabbing Aurora’s hand and leading her out of our apartment.
The elevator ride was awkward. I kept my gaze on the doors, which allowed me to look at my wife.
She was nervous.
Who wouldn’t be? They were about to see the leader of the Volkov Bratva. It was an honor and also a death sentence.
Sergei stood in the corner, and it gave me the perfect opportunity to watch him. I’d picked him because of how loyal he was, but now I was starting to realize my mistake, and I didn’t like it.
His gaze was on my wife’s ass. Did he not realize I could see him? I had a feeling I was going to have to drill in some more respect.
The doors opened, and reaching out, I rested my hand at the base of Aurora’s back, leading her toward the car. I couldn’t resist the tips of my fingers grazing her ass, allowing the man behind me to see that he was looking at my woman, and I would kill him for it.
Aurora tensed up in my arms, but I didn’t care.
Our marriage had survived five months, it would last longer. I was sure of it. I helped her into the car, and Sergei took the wheel. To drive home who Aurora was, I made sure to take my place by her side, resting my palm on her knee.
She shook a little.
I stroked her inner thigh, trying to calm her.
Ivan didn’t like scenes of any kind. If Aurora broke down and started to blubber, it would reflect badly on me.
“Why does Mr. Volkov want to see me?” she asked.
“You know why.”
“I had nothing to do with that.”
“Either way, he’s going to want to talk to you.”
She nibbled on her lip, and I had the urge to reach over and suck it out before plunging her mouth with my tongue. She tugged her knee away from me and turned her entire body toward the window.
Her lack of respect didn’t amuse me.
She wanted to play this way, then fine, we could play.
I grabbed her body, and even though we were seated at the back of the car, I pulled her against me, securing her against my body.
She didn’t fight me, even as her body tensed up. Nor did she argue. Sergei was in the car, and she knew the rules.
“What are you doing?” she whispered the words so low I could only just hear them.
Tilting her head back, I stared into her eyes. Her plump lips called to me. Of all the women I’d been with, I’d never felt this overwhelming need to kiss one before. In fact, I often made it my mission not to put my lips on any of the women. All I cared about was getting my dick sucked.
Auror
a was my wife.
A few hours ago, I’d kissed her.
I wanted to do it again.
Cupping her face, I traced my thumb across the plumpness of her lip. It looked slightly sore from where she’d been nibbling it, but I wanted to taste her again. Enemy or not, I felt like I was drowning in the very essence of who she was, and I couldn’t stop.
Before I got a chance to worship her mouth, the car came to an abrupt stop.
We were here.
I hadn’t even noticed we’d arrived at Ivan’s secure location. He liked to live outside of the city. He moved around a lot. It was one part of keeping himself alive and confusing his enemies. He was never in the same place long enough, which meant if there was ever an attack, they never had time to prepare and were always so fucking sloppy with it.
I opened my door as Sergei did the same. I offered a hand and I watched as Sergei struggled with opening Aurora’s door.
She took my hand, sliding out of my side of the car.
I was going to have to have a talk with my wife. For a woman who didn’t have many prospects, she seemed to be taking one of my most loyal men and turning him into her little pet.
The very thought of Sergei touching my wife. Loving her. It awakened the beast within me that needed to lay his claim. To show the world who Aurora belonged to.
Holding her hand, I walked up the steps, nodding to the guards. No one stopped us as we passed.
Aurora kept up with my pace, and when I entered the dining hall, I saw Ivan was waiting.
It was rare for him to want to talk to someone like my wife. I imagined it was down to the peace treaty that he broke protocol. Then again, Ivan never followed the traditional brotherhood of the Bratva. He paved his own way. Fulfilled his own path.
With my wife before him, he stood, and I had no choice but to press Aurora into the chair that had been left in the center of the room.
“Leave us,” Ivan said.
The soldiers each left, one by one, filtering out. Sergei had followed us in, and I made him aware he was to leave too.
His gaze landed on Aurora one last time, but he didn’t save her.
Instead, he left.
“Aurora, you’re looking good.”
“Thank you.” Her hands rested on her thighs. I saw the slight shake in her body.
I couldn’t resist reaching out to her. I placed my hand on her shoulder, not that it gave her any comfort. If anything, it appeared to make her more nervous, which only served to piss me off.
“I had nothing to do with this, I swear.”
“The man you saw, he was in employment with your father, correct?” Ivan asked.
He dragged a chair over, and I felt Aurora try to jerk back.
“Yes,” she said.
“Aurora, when you married Slavik Ivanov, you swore your loyalty to him, and in doing so, you gave your life to me.”
She nodded her head. “Yes.”
“Anything you know, anything you believe your father has done, you will have to tell me.”
“And I would,” she said. “I only recognize him. I don’t know if my father removed him, or if … I don’t know. I swear.”
I believed her.
“But your loyalty, it is to me and your husband?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Then it’s time you graced the mark,” Ivan said, standing.
He snapped his fingers, and that was where I saw Mark, the tattoo artist. There were times Ivan would punch his brand into the flesh of his subjects with a hot branded iron. This was far more subtle.
“Hold out your arm.”
Aurora cradled her arm against her chest. “I don’t like needles.”
“It will hurt, but this will guarantee your safety. You’re pledging your life to mine.”
“You’re removing me from my family,” she said.
Ivan sighed. “Aurora, we both know they’re not your family. I’m very much aware of what your father thinks of me and my organization. He’s willing to put your life on the line. Now, if what you say is true, if you bind yourself to me, to us, to your husband, you will never have to be questioned after an attack like that, again.”
He was talking total bullshit and yet, I had a feeling he meant what he said.
“Now, I can either make this as painless as possible for you or you’re going to hurt for several days, if not weeks.” He moved over to the small firepit he had burning and held up the branding iron. In response, my wife held her arm up as if offering to the gods.
I stifled a smile.
I had no choice but to stand perfectly still as Mark touched my wife. The design was wrapped around her wrist. The wives were always given the ink around their wrist. It was an easy part of the body that was seen. People would know who they belonged to.
The world would now see that Aurora Fredo, now Aurora Ivanov, was my property, but also the subject of Ivan Volkov. Even as he marked her flesh for loyalty, in doing so, he’d also sworn to protect her.
This I found interesting.
I didn’t know why he was doing this.
Mark kept on working, and Aurora winced. He’d stop, and she’d signal him to continue.
I left her side and walked toward Ivan.
“You wanted to question her,” I said. “Why the branding? You could have done this on our wedding night, but you chose not to. Why?”
“I don’t have to answer to you.”
“As one of your brigadiers, I have no choice but to ask why. You can keep the information from me, but to protect you, I need to know the truth.”
Ivan smiled at me.
“Did her father send those men?”
“No,” Ivan said. “Before you got here, I ran the information. The men had been let go before the wedding with Aurora. It would appear your wife had a little … following.”
“Excuse me?”
“The moment her father gave her to you, it set a ripple running through his soldiers. First, they were suddenly going to have to follow the peace treaty, but it would also seem your wife has a reputation for being … liked and respected.”
I glanced back at Aurora.
She was different from the women in our world.
All I’d seen were people who couldn’t seem to stand her.
“We all know her father gave me her because he didn’t want to waste his beloved daughter on a piece of shit like me.”
Ivan smiled. “Yes, I know. We got the waste of space. The insult. It would seem to a lot of people, she is second best. She’s not as beautiful or as charming. But those who clearly got to know her, they become … besotted.”
I thought of Sergei.
“I can see that,” I said.
A whimper escaped Aurora.
“Do you think she’s behind the attack?” If my wife had done this, then why did she put herself in the line of fire? “Wait a minute.” I turned to Ivan. “Your sources are wrong.”
“Excuse me?”
“Aurora was not … she was attacked tonight. They called her a traitorous bitch. Aurora doesn’t have her own following.”
The only sign that Ivan had heard my words was the clenching of his jaw. He looked ready to commit murder.
Mark finished up the ink, and as he did, Aurora whimpered. I took a step toward her. Mark applied a Band-Aid to keep it covered. The tattoo was in an easily infected area. He gave her the rundown of care.
The moment he finished, she stood up, and I went to her side, tucking her against me.
“Aurora, can I ask you a question?” Ivan asked.
She nodded her head.
“Were you liked at home?”
She jerked within my gaze, and I saw the tears in her eyes. “Why? Is this to punish me for what my father did?”
“Were you respected? Loved? Liked?”
“Mr. Volkov, people didn’t even know I existed, and if they did, they made me very much aware of just how unimportant I was.”
Chapter Six
Aurora
My wrist hurt.
My head hurt.
My back hurt.
Everything fucking hurt. Yet, nothing seemed to be quite as painful as the knowledge that my family and everyone around them didn’t like me.
“Were you respected? Loved? Liked?”
Ivan’s questions played in my head on a mocking repeat. No one liked me. No one even cared about me.
I was given to Slavik and the Volkov Bratva because my father didn’t want to give away the daughter he actually loved.
Tears filled my eyes, and I hated how I felt, the way I was reacting. Tilting my head back, I stared up at the pool room. Sergei had cleared the pool so I could use it. Every other time, I always felt a little embarrassed at the power he used for my comfort. Today, a week after getting the tattoo that aligned me with the Bratva, I needed to do something other than sit in the apartment. Even reading wouldn’t rid my mind of these thoughts. I tried so hard not to let them consume me, but it was next to impossible.
Rubbing at my temple, I took a deep breath, aware of Sergei watching me. He’d been really sweet and kind to me. I didn’t know if that was part of his job description, but I didn’t know how to handle it.
I wasn’t one for a pity party. At least not every single day.
Today, a week after the attack and the questioning from Ivan Volkov himself, the pain of my past just wouldn’t go away. All the memories surrounded me, refusing to leave me be. The way people ignored me, even as a child. When I wanted to play. I was never good enough. Often left to read as the other kids couldn’t stand me.
My mother would tell me to leave the kids alone. If they didn’t want to play with me, then maybe there was something wrong with me.
No matter how kind I was, I wasn’t liked. At parties, I was ignored. No one asked me to dance. I spent most of my time standing in the corner, watching all the fun happening, knowing I was never going to be part of it. The shopping trips. I watched Isabella so often get invited.
I’d be close by, but no one would extend the invitation in my direction. If I asked if I could come, some excuse would be made.
In the end, I stopped trying to be involved.
No one wanted me. No one liked me.
I’d spend hours, staring out of a window, trying to figure out what people hated about me. Why I was so disliked, and even now, I couldn’t figure out a reason.