20
801 Words
Maria
ASSHOLE!
I don't say it, but I think it.
The low light from the chandelier dances across Mikhail's face, casting shadows that make him look even more sinister with that cold green gaze going through me. Despite my fear, I force myself to meet his gaze, trying to convey the hatred boiling over in me.
His eyes bore into mine, and I can see the sincerity there. He's not lying when he says that he's doing this to protect me. And if my encounter with his three men—what did he call them, brigadiers?—is any indication, then my best hope truly lies with him.
But it still doesn't help that his promise of protection is only extended to me.
"I'll play my part in public," I tell him. "But behind closed doors, I want nothing to do with you. Don't expect me to be your dutiful wife."
"Fair enough," Mikhail concedes, heading back to his chair across the table. "But remember, Maria. The world can be a cruel place, and sometimes we need allies more than we need our independence."
Is this the trade I'm willing to make? My freedom in exchange for his protection?
But then again ... What choice do I have? I'm trapped, and there's nothing else but him. As much as I want to despise him for what he's done, I can't help but be drawn to him either.
Realizing he's waiting for me to speak, I jut out my chin defiantly. "It doesn't mean I have to like it."
His lips curl, first a smile, then a sneer, and finally a deep-bellied laugh that leaves me shaking from anger at how little of a threat he considers me.
And as my anger scores my insides, a new feeling rises in me.
Defiance.
Mikhail Ivanov might think me an insignificant brat—a mewling kitten trembling in the presence of his power. But I'll show him the truth.
I'll show him that even a kitten has claws—claws sharp enough to draw blood.
As I sit there, facing the man who will force me into a marriage I never wanted, I can't help but feel a deep sense of loss. My dreams of adventure, of exploring the world, seem to slip away like water through my fingers.
But at the same time, I cannot deny the allure of the privilege afforded to me through him. The world Mikhail represents is both terrifying and exhilarating. And as much as I want to despise him for what he's done, he promises a world I've only ever dreamt of—a world filled with art.
As perverse as it sounds, there is freedom in my new captivity. A freedom that I've never known before.
The icy looks Mikhail sends me settle my nerves. He doesn't want me. He wants my father.
But why? What has my father done to these men? And how are they so certain that he is who they're looking for?
I chose to go back to my bedroom after dinner. I lie on the bed, thankful that at least the walls aren't painted pink.
Dominika knocks once and then enters the room. "Do you want me to turn down your bed?"
"No, go away." I can't trust her.
"I know you're unhappy here," she says, undeterred by my tone. "But I will do my best to take care of you."
I lift my chin defiantly, determined to maintain what little independence I have left. "If I want to hear your opinions, next time, I'll ask. Close the door when you leave."
I know they think I'm being a brat, but what else do I have under the circumstances?
Dominika closes the door, but she remains inside the room. She lowers her voice, and her words come fast and low.
"Don't try to run again," she whispers. "Every bad thing you think about these men is true. You run, and you will lead these people to those you love. And they will kill—or worse—to get you back."
I don't move. "How can you know?"
"Because I've seen things, koshka."She shakes her head. "Things that I cannot forget. Things that you do not want to see."
I whip my body around to face her. "Like what?" I demand.
She goes silent for a moment. I can see her mind turning as she wavers between telling me the truth and telling me what I need to survive.
Finally, she settles on the latter.
"Be a good girl to him, koshka." She takes a long breath. "But above all, be a good wife to him. Your life will depend upon it."
Without further explanation, she leaves me in that room alone with my thoughts, each one more frightening than the last.
- Writer
