Dangerous Union

Chapter3

Noah

I parked my Audi in its place, let myself go with a tired sigh, closed my eyes, and rested my head on the seat.

In the silence of my car, I could give some order to my thoughts.

That day had been terrible. After days of postponement, I had gone to Camila's house that morning to tell her that everything was between us was closed.

Needless to say, she didn't take it well at all, on the contrary.

Camila has always followed my rules. She has never complained about what I did or what I did to her. Sometimes, she led me to do things that I had never tried before and that I never thought I would try. She has always been docile and innocent, in short.

But that morning, for the first time, I had seen her rebel and pull everything she had against me. She had filled me with bad words, she had thrown everything she could at me, she had not accepted my closure in the slightest, insulting me because according to her I had used it to f**k. Which was also partially true, except that she wasn't the only one I was with, but she didn't know that.

I had been forced to tell him after my father's threat.

It wasn't enough to be forced to get married, now I also had to get all the lectures from my father, as if I were a child. But it seemed this deal was very important to the family, and I was on the way to f*****g it up, as always.

So I had made the decision to end my story with Camila, in a few weeks Irina Volkov would have moved into my house, into my room and we would have officially been a couple and I could not keep a secret story with the risk that Vladimir Volkov would find out.

I couldn't afford to f**k it all up.

But I felt a strange pang when I broke up with Camila, perhaps remorse or something else. I had always seen her cheerful, happy, seductive and seeing her like that, almost destroyed by the breakup, had moved something inside me, a pain that I didn't know how to define, what it was.

And on top of that, I was furious because my father forced me to marry a woman I didn't know, and I didn't even know what she looked like.

He opened his eyes again, and I squeezed the steering wheel momentarily. Then, I opened the door and got out of the car. My brothers were at home, while my cousin, the asshole, had come home, and so I had to put up with him too.

I closed the car, put my hands in my pockets, and then went towards the restaurant's entrance. I went inside and looked around.

The restaurant was already half-full. Some families had already occupied some tables, while others were standing and waving to each other.

With a sigh, I walked to the bar, rested my elbows on the bar, and beckoned to the bartender who knew me. Then, I immediately started preparing my cocktail.

I turned around and looked around, leaning with my back to the counter, in time to see my father approaching. She stood beside me with a fake smile while nodding to one of the Reds. My mother had already been incorporated by some ladies of the mafia, and I could see her talking quietly later.

"Remember what I told you." He told me, pointing with his head to the restaurant's front door from which the Estebans were entering.

"I don't want you to f**k up, Noah. Vladimir told me that he is coming and taking Irina with him." He said, and I snorted, watching the Estebans enter.

When my gaze met Camila's, her eyes flashed dangerously, but I didn't get upset, not even when I noticed what she was wearing. She took off her jacket, revealing what she was wearing underneath: a widely exposed dress that showed off her model physique.

Physique was what I possessed in every possible way.

The message was clear: look what you're missing.

It took all my willpower not to get up and take her to the bathroom, there I would bend her forward, I would lift that semi-transparent red skirt and I would f**k her so hard that then she would not walk again for the whole evening.

But I couldn't. Not while I felt my father's gaze on me.

"I received the message and spoke with her. I'm not going to f**k it up." I told him, looking at him.

Dad studied me momentarily, then sighed and walked away from my mother. She smiled at him slightly as he kissed her on the cheek, then placed a hand on the base of her back and walked her to the table, moving the chair for her.

Sometimes I envied them.

After a moment, I turned back to the bar, took my glass with scotch tape, and sipped a drop.

"Bianchi." Said Dario Lopez, placing himself next to me. I looked at him out of the corner of my eye, his brown hair tousled, his pitch-black eyes slightly reddened and pupils dilated, and his olive complexion contrasted with his white shirt.

"Hasn't there been a meeting yet, and you're already drinking?" he asked me cheerfully, too cheerful for my taste.

"f**k you, Lopez." I said as I looked back in front of me.

"I see that we are nervous. How long have you been without a p***y?" he asked, patting me on the shoulder.

Dario was about my age, a little older. The ugly part of this world was that we all went to the same school, so we knew each other, and it was impossible to avoid each other.

"On the other hand, I got a f**k today. Maybe you should try to go... madre de Dios." He said and held his breath. His eyes widened, his pupils dilated.

"De dónde viene esta nena, desde el cielo?" I turned to look at him and saw him intent on observing something, so I turned around and immediately understood what had caught his attention.

Or rather, who.

I immediately recognized Vladimir Volkov, followed by the group of bodyguards who immediately went to place themselves almost everywhere in the room except one, who remained behind him. But I understood exactly why he had all that escort, for whom.

Next to Vladimir, there was a girl, a blond angel dressed in black.

My breath took my breath away when I saw her.

Of a unique beauty.

Blonde hair that fell softly on her shoulders, eyes as blue as the clearest sky, innocent, full and bright lips, the body... it was perfection. The dress encircled her, highlighting her fine features without revealing anything too filthy.

Refined.

Like the rest of the men in the room, I was literally stunned when I looked at her while she looked around, almost timidly and uncomfortable.

It took less than a minute for many to show up, all enchanted by the Russian beauty displaying itself for the first time.

"She's Volkov's daughter." Said Darìo, and I remembered that he was there too.

"Madre de Dios, what a unique beauty. I bet that under that dress, she is even more beautiful." He continued to comment, revved up, and I almost growled, but he moved fast as a hare and, with great strides, stood in front of the Volkovs. I saw him greet Vladimir first and then introduce himself to her. He took her hand and kissed her back, I gritted my teeth annoyed and watched the scene from afar.

She smiled at him, withdrew her hand, and then followed her father to their table.

Most of the men's eyes were on her, not only the younger ones but also, the older ones who looked at her as if she were a piece of meat, with lust, with desire, and I knew that tomorrow morning Vladimir Volkov would be bombarded with offers.

I drained my glass and asked for a refill, then went to my table and sat beside my mother, resting my arm on the chair beside mine.

My gaze fell back on her, who at that moment was distracted, fiddling with the petals of the flowers in the centrepiece, completely lost in her own world.

My mouth dried up, and I had to shake my head and blink.

No, it wasn't a f*****g dream, even though it seemed like she was from heaven, as perfect as she was. Unlike many girls in our world, she was not a girl. She didn't have heavy makeup, swollen lips or pulled-up cheekbones. You could see it very well, in all its naturalness, and it was beautiful.

"Well, at least Vladimir kept his word." My father commented.

"She is very beautiful." My mother said, looking at her. "Now, it is explained why Vladimir has kept her hidden all this time."

Oh, it was perfectly understood.

My cousin Franco walked between the tables and then approached ours. He sat down and looked around, resting his gaze on her. He frowned and then turned his attention to my father.

"Is it her? Irina Volkov?" asked my cousin.

I didn't like how he pronounced her name, but he preferred to keep quiet. I knew it was useless to talk to Franco.

"So it seems." My father replied, calling the waiter.

Franco shifted his gaze back to Irina, tilting his head to the side to get a better look at her. His languid gaze ran through every feature in the same way most men had done.

"She's really wasted on you, cousin. You wouldn't make good use of her." He said with a wink. I almost growled, but my father's voice interrupted me.

"We've already talked about it, Franco." Said Dad. "If it hadn't been of clear importance, I wouldn't have given her to Noah, but I need him for this thing." He said, and I frowned.

"Too bad, I certainly knew how to use her." He said.

I gritted my teeth.

So, that bastard had already offered himself for the deal. I wasn't surprised. Franco always tried to take my place. Despite being the son of the second child, he had always tried to get everything that was mine. It didn't surprise me that he had tried the same with my future wife.

I looked back at her, still absorbed in her world. She woke up only when the waiter who had spoken to my father approached her table, placing a glass in front of Vladimir.

Irina looked up and thanked him warmly, then her eyes rested on me, and everything else around us vanished completely.

A discharge ran completely through my body as my eyes were lost in hers, the voices came muffled and time seemed to stop suddenly.

What was happening?

She blinked and turned her attention away from me when her father said something to her, but my eyes didn't leave her.

For whatever reason, I couldn't stop looking at her.