Page 18 of Hateful Vows

FOURTEEN

ALEKSEI

D ante’s men let me in when I show up at the gilded gate of his father’s mansion. The grounds crawl with Italian men armed to the teeth but all of them give me a wide berth. His second-in-command—I think his name is Tino—opens the door for me.

“Lucie isn’t here?” he asks gruffly.

Our cohabitation for the past few days has been a silent one.

She mostly stays in her room, only coming out to eat.

Magda has taken a liking to her, which says a lot because she hates everyone, including me.

I found them making pelmeni in the kitchen yesterday and it was the strangest experience. It almost looked… homely.

“Where is he?” I ask Tino instead of answering him. I don’t owe him shit.

“He’s occupied right now.”

I don’t like the smirk on his face; I don’t know what it means.

There is no love lost between our organisations but Tino gives me his back as he leads me towards a sitting room.

It’s a show of respect, an acknowledgment of our truce.

He might not like me but he trusts me enough not to stab him in the back.

I can respect that. I give him a nod and walk to the window, bypassing the velvet green sofa in the middle of the room.

Tino’s phone rings and a conversation in Italian ensues.

“I’ll be right there,” he says into the phone then glances up at me. “Dante should be done soon. Don’t wander, we have cameras everywhere.” Then he disappears, closing the doors behind him.

I observe the room I’m in. I see that our fathers had similar taste for the nouveau-riche style.

Everything in here screams ‘I have money’.

A golden chandelier hangs from the ceiling and a nest of three raw-wood coffee tables sit in front of the sofa.

There was obviously no care for respecting one style, only money thrown to get the most expensive decor.

It’s uncouth, like the man who inhabited it. Just like his heir.

The slick black grand piano in the corner catches my eyes though. It fits well with the display of wealth considering it must be worth at least a quarter of a million.

My fingers itch.

I look behind my shoulder. The door is closed.

I despise myself for entertaining the thought, but the temptation is too strong. I sit behind it and the leather creaks under my weight. Anticipation has my hands trembling slightly. It’s been such a long time. Before my father forbade it, before I became a soldier.

Not a speck of dust covers the black and white keys. I press them, muscle memory hitting all the notes of a concerto suite from the Nutcracker by Tchaikovsky. A childish glee fills my throat and it becomes hard to swallow.

I’m engrossed in the music but I don’t miss the steps behind me.

A feminine figure appears by my side, but she’s too tall to be Irina.

She sits in my periphery and her eyes close as she sways softly with each tune.

I glimpse at Mariella, Dante’s mother, who smiles softly like she hasn’t enjoyed anyone playing piano in a long time.

The crescendo builds until I slow down. And stop.

She claps her hands and I gulp, the foreign emotion feeling too close to pride for comfort.

“This was wonderful. It’s been such a long time since anyone played piano in this house. Are you a friend of Dante?”

I frown. She met me at the wedding not so long ago.

“No, ma’am. I’m Aleksei, his business partner.”

“Oh.” She sounds disappointed, but hides it behind a forced laugh. “It’s rare for any Made man to know how to play.”

Silence follows her declaration and I don’t know what to say. My mother died when I was young and the only women around me are Irina, Irina’s mother—who I’ve barely ever seen outside official events—and Magda.

“You like piano?” I ask, out of my depth.

Her smile is radiant. “Very much. Would you play something else?”

I nod solemnly and return to the keys. My father never allowed me to play anything but Russian composers. He would have beaten me bloody if I ever tried anything else. He did anyway. But the bastard has been buried for days, his blood almost fresh on my hands. So I start Gymnopedies by Erik Satie.

It’s a languorous melody, and it brings Dante’s mother to tears.

I can’t remember the last time I cried, but something builds inside my chest and into my throat, making it hard to focus.

I close my eyes and let the music transport me to a place where I’m not a killer, where I don’t hate with every fiber of my being, where I’m just a child who loves to play.

When I’m done, Mariella’s eyes are lost in thoughts as she looks outside. She’s unmoving and I’m afraid she might be having a stroke. I stand and tread towards her, landing a hand on her shoulder.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there,” she says and I frown. “I was listening to piano. Who are you?”

“Aleksei.”

Her face shows no recognition and I clench my teeth. I might not have had a mother but I can’t imagine the pain of having one who forgets the people around her. Will she forget Dante soon?

“It’s good that my son has a friend. One he can confide in. He needs one that doesn’t answer to him, like Tino.”

I don’t have an answer to that so I remain silent, observing the elegant older woman in front of me. Her eyes are the same as Dante’s and she has that softness to her I barely recognise. It’s so foreign to me.

“Aleksei.” Irina’s voice breaks our bubble.

It’s filled with annoyance, and something else I don’t care to look too close into. When I look up, my brows dip. My sister is never anything but perfect, yet strands of her hair are falling from the low ponytail she seems to have just wiped up seconds ago, and her blouse is wrinkled.

“You look like shit,” I tell her when she gets close.

She ignores me, which is unlike her.

“Mariella, what are you doing here?” she asks Dante’s mother with a softness I’ve never heard from her. It’s unsettling. I don’t like it.

“I was listening to piano. Dante’s friend is a skilled player.”

The shock on my step-sister features could be comical if I didn’t feel so exposed. She’s never heard me play, because I made sure to uproot anything I care about from within my soul years ago. I would have never allowed my father to use anything against me.

“He is, I suppose,” Irina answers as she regards me with darkened eyes.

“He’s cute. I see why you and Dante would like him.”

I almost choke at Mariella’s comment. The picture she paints is forbidden. Too forbidden. Something I can never entertain. I’ve been very good at crushing my deepest cravings, I’m not about to let that one bloom.

“I’m already married to your son, Mariella. And Aleksei’s my brother.”

“Oh right. You look nothing alike.”

“We don’t share blood.”

“Well, not your brother then,” Mariella says with a mischievous smile. “I’ve heard of worse things than to share a lover.”

Irina’s cheeks tint pink and her jaw pulses.

Desire is the most villainous emotion. It will make you do really stupid things, things that could jeopardise everything I’m building.

But seeing the blush on my cold-hearted step-sister expand towards her chest, and the tip of her ears turning red sends a delicious shiver of want inside my body. It’s hard to crush it this time.

“Why don’t I bring you back to your room?” Irina asks but Mariella tells her she will manage on her own. And suddenly, we’re alone in the lavish room.

“What are you doing here?” Irina snaps.

Good. We’re back to familiar territory. One where she hates me though she never leaves me alone.

“I came to talk to Ventura. There’s unrest amongst the men.

We need to show a united front.” She closes her arms over her chest, daring me to say more.

The liquid brown of her irises swirl with challenge and I almost smirk, rising to the bait.

It’s easier to fight with her than to admit the truth.

“And I came to check on you since you decided not to answer my summons yesterday.”

She snorts. “Your summons? I’m not your dog. And I was busy. Dante had a lead so we followed it.”

“We?” I chuckle but the sound is ash in my mouth. “You’re already one of them.”

Irina stampedes towards me, a finger to my chest in defiance. “You sold me to him. Did you expect me to barricade myself in my room? When have I ever left you incompetent men to do business on your own? Or did you forget what I can do?”

“Did it satisfy your blood lust, solnychko ?”

“Not as much as if I’d shot through your head.”

And that’s when I smell it. I smell him .

On her.

His cologne is unmistakable, black pepper and cloves over tonka beans? * . It’s nothing like the fresh aromatic scents I favour? * . It’s too strong mixed with her rich Shalimar. It assaults me, and so does the image of her naked body writhing underneath his as he thrusts viciously into her.

“You fucked him,” I growl. “I can smell him on you.”

My pulse is on overdrive and my cock stirs to life, ready to take what should have been mine from the start.

“He’s my husband and I was bored.”

Irina tries to sound detached but I don’t miss the tremble of her lip, and the dip of her eyes to the floor.

Vicious little liar . Her tongue darts out to lick her bottom lip and I whirl around, giving her my back.

I’m tempted to pace. I breathe hard instead, resisting the urge to curl my fingers into fists. It’s best I don’t see the bastard now.

“What did you expect from this, Lyosha ? I’m married and I need Dante to care, otherwise he might stab me in the fucking back for all I know. And you’ll be next. I’m doing this for us,” she yells.

I whirl around. Something on my face makes her eyes widen and she steps back as I advance, until she finds her resolve again and steels herself. My hand finds her throat. The skin is delicate and her pulse is wild against my fingers. My eyes dip to her lips, slightly parted.

“You got fucked by Italian scum to protect me, solnychko ?” I taunt. It’s heinous. Something other men have whispered as she walked by.

I don’t even try to avoid her hand as she slaps me. Hard. I deserve it.

“You allied us with him! And talk to me like that again, I’ll be the one to stab you. Now leave. Go back to your own wife.”

I unfurl my fingers from the delicate column of her throat, trailing my index finger against her jaw. Her breath catches in her throat.

“We have a gala next weekend. I’ll send you the details.”

Hate is better. I can handle hate.

Though there isn’t any reason for it since I killed the man who threatened her to get to me.

* ? Dante wears Gentleman by Givenchy

* ? Aleksei wears Creed Original vetiver