Page 15 of Hateful Vows

ELEVEN

ALEKSEI

S ome of my men are helping the Italians with clean-up.

The man I just killed for insulting us was one of my father’s most loyal and Mikhail’s father.

I know he used to beat him and his mum so I’m not sorry I ended his life.

I am sorry for losing my temper. That never happens.

I’ve been trained to best my emotions at all times.

Ventura already has a negative influence on me, and I won’t tolerate it. We’ll communicate via phone after the wedding. I don’t want to be in the same room as him. And certainly not in the same room as him and Irina.

The way they kissed at the altar was disgraceful.

The lack of restraint. The panting and the roaming hands.

Irina and Dante made a fool of themselves, and put us in this position of having to clean blood underneath our shoes.

But I’ll never let anyone say anything about either of them.

The London Bratva is about to enter a new era, one stronger for its independence and alliance with the Italians. The old generation can fold or die.

I turn toward Lucie, who’s shoving food into her mouth like nothing happened.

“Are you okay?” I ask gruffly, unused to such words.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You just married someone you don’t know, and your husband killed someone in cold-blood. I don’t expect you to show a strong front in the face of madness, Lucie.”

Her chewing slows and she dabs her mouth. Her warm brown eyes narrow. I take a seat beside her and she leans closer, whispering conspiratorially.

“Are we going to have a problem, Aleksei? Are you one of those men who thinks a woman’s place is either in the kitchen or on her back, pushing your heirs out?”

“What? No! I would never touch you. And you can do whatever you want.” She raises a brow.

I don’t care if that insults her. That’s the agreement I have with Dante.

Besides, she’s not the one I want. And she’s so young.

But fuck, I don’t want to make an enemy out of her either.

I may have met her today at the altar but despite the fearless look she’s sporting, she makes me want to protect her.

“Look Lucie. I don’t want this marriage any more than you do but I’ll protect you and my people no matter what.

I’m sure you’re more than capable, I just…

I want you to be happy. You don’t have anything to fear from me. ”

“Oh, I know. Dante told me all about your agreement. Maybe you keep women away from business in the Bratva but my dad trained me like anyone else. And honestly, I don’t care much for blood.” She shrugs. “I won’t let this food go to waste. Do you know how much effort Dante put into all this?”

As far as arranged marriages go, I didn’t put any thought behind this moment, so no, I have no clue how much effort went into the preparation.

I look around. At the bright flowers I have no name for, the sumptuous dress of the Italian crowd compared to the dark attire of my men and their families, the elegant—though cold—decor of the restaurant.

Dante’s personality and extravagance shine in every nook of this reception.

It almost makes me smile. I don’t get it so I dismiss the feeling, returning to quietly observing the crowd, waiting for an insurrection.

Popov, another close confidant of my father, approaches me, whispering about new agreements and responsibilities but all I can focus on is how Dante follows Irina out of the room, an air of trouble lingering after them.

I nod and hum at the old man’s ideas. Popov has been with the London Bratva since before my father took over.

I want to hear what he has to say, he seems focused on the greater good of our organisation, unlike most of his generation.

But all my mind conjures up is the image of Dante’s determined stride as he followed after Irina’s haughty silhouette.

“Come by my office tomorrow. If you’ll excuse me,” I tell the man without waiting for an answer.

The corridor outside the dining room is empty. I walk towards the exit sign, but can only make out our men patrolling around. Dante and Irina are nowhere to be found. When I turn back around, I shake my head and dismiss them.

I haven’t taken one step before I hear it.

The moans are unmistakable.

The heels of my shoes clack on the sleek floor, the sound reverberating against the dark walls. My fists should not clench to the point of pain. And my legs certainly should not drag me towards the closed door of the ladies room. And my cock definitely shouldn’t twitch.

I pause in front of the door. What if Irina’s in danger?

I wait. And listen. My heart patters inside my chest and I strain to hear what they’re saying and the potential sounds of intruders.

What surprises me most is not the jealousy that spreads through my veins like a wildfire.

It’s that his groans melt all too well with her sweet pants.

It sends lust through my bloodstream quicker than anything ever has.

The both of them together, the perfect pairing for my wildest desires, is dangerous.

I’ve never allowed myself to see Irina this way, blocking every shred of hunger for her.

And I’ve done the same with men. Not because I thought it was wrong to desire them as ardently, but because I didn’t want to give my father more ammunition to hurt me and hurt others, to have my lovers be added to the list of my victims. Not after what I had to do to my friends .

“Such a greedy whore, cuore mio ,” I hear Dante say and my breath hitches, doubts disappearing like smoke with the strength of my body’s reaction to his words.

I expect Irina to slap him, or even kill him, but she moans louder.

“So fucking perfect for your husband’s cock. Are you gonna take what I give you?”

Fuck. Is she…? No. She can’t be. She hates Ventura as much as I do. The war against the Italians cost us so many men. And we killed his aunt and uncle. Not Irina and I personally but we are still responsible even if it was more than ten years ago.

He should hate us. Not shove his cock anywhere near his Russian wife.

I hope she bites it off if it’s in her mouth.

I resist the urge to adjust myself, but need to brace against the wall when Dante’s pleasure ricochets outside the room and into my ears, Irina’s moans muffled. I swallow. And wait some more. Time warps, like suspended by an unknown force.

I can’t hear anything else.

“Get out,” Irina’s voice rings like a slap.

The door opens to reveal a disheveled Ventura. He scrubs a hand through his hair that looks like it’s been pulled at. His grin is Cheshire and I want to wipe it with my fists.

“Next time, pretty boy, just join. I doubt a locked door has ever stopped you before.”

The asshole has the audacity to wink at me before he’s gone.

I get into the room. My eyes clash with my step-sister’s in the mirror. She looks put together but her makeup is smudged around her eyes and she’s re-applying lipstick.

“What do you want?” She snaps, but it holds no heat. And I hate it. The way she looks satiated and pliant is not a good look on her.

“Did you fuck him?”

“What if I did? That’s none of your business. He’s my husband, remember?”

I advance, feeling the heat coming off her body and her beloved Shalimar signature scent on her skin, though it’s tainted with something musky and more masculine now.

“I thought you hated him.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” she retorts.

I grind my teeth. We need to come back to the status quo. I don’t know how to handle this version of my step-sister. I don’t know why I’m even here.

“Dante was right to call you a whore.”

I expect her fury and I can block her assault, but I let her come at me with her familiar hate.

She grabs the collar of my shirt and pulls a hair pin with her other hand, the pointy edge against my throat.

It's a discreet and deadly weapon, a gift from me for her twentieth birthday though she thinks it was from her trainer.

“Insult me one more time, Aleksei. I dare you .” She adds the last part in Russian, seething in between her teeth.

I press my neck into her makeshift dagger, and feel the drop of blood gliding down my throat and into my shirt.

Her jaw shifts and she takes a step back, licking the bloody pin and putting it into her hair.

“My husband and I are none of your concerns. You wanted me protected. If he cares about me, he won’t betray me.

You should care about your girl of a wife. ”

“So your plan is to seduce your husband?”

“Already done, Lyosha . I’ll walk him like a dog by the end of the month.”