Page 5 of Darkest Craving

WOLFGANG

S he should give in to me. It would be easier for her. But the way she braces herself, trying to pull her hand from mine, clearly shows it’s not what she has in mind.

I almost smile at her useless attempt, but I keep my reactions to myself for now. There will be plenty of opportunities to show her there’s nothing she can do or say to make me free her from my possession.

Victoria is the cost of her father’s treason, a debt that couldn’t be paid in any other way than flesh.

I could’ve killed her and her entire family for what he’s done, and it would’ve made my father’s wish come true—a lackluster plan, in my opinion, since the men working for us are accustomed to the thought of their impending death.

Besides, everyone can kill… but not everyone can make their enemy want to die.

Not everyone can dangle death in front of hopeless men like a prize when they’ve taken everything they own and turned them into pariahs for the world to see.

It’s our specialty and exactly what makes the Pakhan as powerful as he is. In fact, as his sovetnik —his advisor—it’s how I make him powerful, and I intend to keep doing it with sweet Victoria by my side.

“Don’t act so surprised, love,” I say, tightening my grip on her trembling hand. “It was always going to be you. You know that.”

She shakes her head, the fear in her glossy baby-blue eyes undeniable.

I bring my thumb to her quivering lips, their rosy color and plumpness foreign to my scarred skin. My cock twitches, but it doesn’t surprise me. She’s a beautiful woman, and even if our marriage is just a means to an end, that won’t stop me from consummating it.

Stepping back, she puts some distance between us as her head and eyes shift to her parents.

None of them makes another sound because…

what else can they say? They’re lucky I don’t put a fucking bullet through their heads on my way out.

And honestly, the fact that Nikolai tried to spare Anya but isn’t doing shit for my soon-to-be-wife makes me want to do it anyway.

Looks like Victoria and I have a lot more in common than I thought.

I clench my jaw, suddenly overwhelmed with the need to pull her away, to protect her from the pain of abandonment I know too well. But I don’t. It’s better that she sees it for what it is, just like I had to do all my life.

“Say goodbye, or don’t, but we’re leaving. Now, Victoria.”

I don’t have to look at Ivan—my right hand man—to know he’s drawing his gun. I told him I wanted Victoria to feel like she had a choice, to either come with me and save her family, or watch her pretty hands stain with their blood.

In reality, I was always going to leave this house with her on my arm, collared and willing like the good little wife she’s about to become.

Right now, she thinks this is all about revenge. About the cost of her father’s betrayal, about getting my leverage over him. It isn’t. Not fully. But she’ll learn my true intentions soon enough.

Her eyes follow Ivan’s gun, shifting back and forth… thinking. Deciding.

I give her a moment, and when she faces me again, it’s like I’m looking at a completely different person. Her pretty face relaxes, her chest rising with a breath, her shoulders slackening on the exhale. Even the pull of her hand loosens in my grip.

Good girl.

I see it for what it is—submission. The kind that tells me I’ve already won.

“Victoria…” her sister says as an afterthought.

Ignoring her, Victoria tilts her head back to meet my eyes. “I need to pack.”

As if. “Everything you need is already waiting for you at home.”

“My phone is—”

“Not needed. Let’s go.”

I release her hand, only to wrap mine around the back of her neck, guiding her toward the doors.

Her body stiffens under my touch, pulse pounding like she’s in flight mode, but her heels clack against the floor. The fight in her is gone.

I knew she was submissive the moment I met her, even through the facade she tried to put up when we talked.

She scoffed and crossed her arms, thinking she was defying me. But I knew—even then, I knew she was going to be my good girl and do her very best to please me while I execute her traitorous family.

We’ve got some work to do, of course, because right now she resents me. But in time, she’ll crave me. I’ll make it so that all she ever needs is me. And then, when I’ve taken everything there is to take from her, I’ll bring her right back where she belongs before I kill them all.

I walk close behind her, her scent seeping into my pores with every step she takes through the gaping crowd.

She smells sweet and floral, like lilies in the valley—pure and untouched, and completely oblivious to the kind of life I have in store for her. A life of crawling on her hands and knees with gags in her pretty mouth while her eyes beg me to fill her holes.

She’ll learn to bask in the darkness of her new cage, and I can’t wait to see how long before she breaks.

The soft fabric of her metallic-red dress pours along her sides and over her ass until it touches the floor. But her back is completely naked, only obscured by the collar I secured around her neck. My pretty jewel.

I’ve only been here for ten minutes and she’s already reinforcing my decision to marry her.

We make our way to the entrance, and no one says anything to interfere with my plans. If anything, they’re still holding their breath, waiting for me to leave, waiting to make sure they’re not being targeted as well.

Outside, a gentle rain splatters over the flowers’ petals in the garden, prickling the driveway with dark spots.

The small but crisp breeze that comes with it causes goosebumps to erupt on Victoria’s back and arms. I let my arm fall to the small of her back, shielding her from the cold with my body.

I don’t want anything bad to happen to her until she officially becomes my wife.

I open the backseat door to the Rolls-Royce parked right up front, and she hauls her dress up a few inches before stooping to get in without a fuss. Ilia, my driver, steps in to open the door for me on the other side. But I raise my hand, rounding the car to do it myself and sit next to Victoria.

Hands in her lap, she stays silent with her gaze turned toward the stables. She hasn’t cried yet, and I can tell she’s holding it together as best she can, her eyes glossy and faraway.

I lean back in my seat, relaxing my head on the headrest as satisfaction settles within me. No point forcing her to talk now if she doesn’t want to. The worst is yet to come.

So I close my eyes, feeling the slight tremor of the car as Ilia drives us away.