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"Sounds perfect, handsome," I whisper gently. For the next two hours, we sit and eat a gorgeous picnic dinner of my favorite foods: chicken salad sandwiches, strawberries dipped in chocolate, and mini cakes, with my favorite summer fruit wine. We laugh and talk throughout, and I don't think I've had a perfect day like today since Paris.
As the sun sets, Damian asks if I could help blow out the candles, so I stand. Still, he grabs my hand before I can move. I turn only to see him kneeling in front of me with a beautiful diamond princess 9-ct cut ring that I recognize as his grandmother's. Tears automatically start to fill my eyes, and my right hand goes to my mouth as I gasp.
"Sofia, since the first day I saw you, I knew you'd change my life; you became the person I could trust. You made me, a grouchy 12-year-old boy, your best friend." I sniffle as he looks down and wipes under his eyes before looking back up with glassy eyes. "You put your trust and heart into me, and I know nothing would make me happier than to make you my wife, so what do you say, malyshka? Will you marry me?"
I let out a little sob before frantically nodding, knowing my words won't come out, and jumping into his arms. He holds me tight, finding my mouth with his for a deep, consuming kiss. He breaks the kiss to grab my left hand and place the ring on my finger as my tears continue to fall. He holds me again, squeezing me into his chest while I cling to him. He looks into my eyes, his glossy and soft, before lifting my left hand to his mouth, and then kissing my ring finger.
I cannot keep the smile from my face.
"I love you so much," I say joyfully.
He smiles the biggest smile but doesn't return the words to me, making me frown slightly. Come to think of it, he's not said them since that one time two years ago, and he didn’t made a declaration of love when he just proposed. Just as I'm about to question him, he grabs hold of my hand and starts to tug me toward the country-style home with a wraparound porch just up the sandbank. It's beautiful, and I stare at it in awe, completely forgetting to question him about his feelings. He wouldn't ask me to marry him if he didn't love me anyway, right?
He opens the door after we get there, and a loud “surprise!” is shouted, making me jump back as Damian chuckles.
"You didn't think I'd finally pop the question and not have our families here to celebrate, did you?" he whispers in my ear after wrapping his arms around me from behind. I look at all our family and friends, making me smile, until I see my mother staring at us…but not with hatred or sadness, making me frown.
Huh, that's new.
I tilt my head a little, and she looks down, wiping away a tear. I go to move toward her, something compelling to me to, but I then see Mattia standing just behind her. He looks on at us with rage, and I stop. He glares at Damian's arm around my waist, which tightens when I go to move, so I lean closer into him, bringing Mattia's attention back to me. I quickly turn my head and look at my father as he moves toward us, pulling me from Damian's arms, giving me the best hug a daughter could ask for, and whispering how proud he is to be my dad, causing me to tear up again.
This happens for the next hour, with several cousins, Noah and Lilly, and aunts and uncles coming forward. Then Mr. Volkov wraps me in a bear hug, and I hold him tight, giggling. He's always been like a second father to me, and I love him dearly.
After the congratulations from all family members and a weak tap on the head and peck to the cheek from my mother, Mrs. Volkov whisks me toward the sitting room. She convinced me to have the wedding in six months, the day after my 20th birthday, which Damian looked extremely happy about, before announcing I would be moving in with him immediately. I chance a look to my right, and yep, they were both pissed. My mother is clenching her fists and digging her nails into her palms, and her face shows worry and concern. Wait, what?
Mattia looks ready to blow, which is the reason why I agree to move out now and why I agree to the wedding so soon. Mattia was too close to raping me today; I needed to get out, and this is the only way without causing a war between our families. Life's about to get busy. And I'm finally going to be free of them!
seven
Damian – Age 24 – Two Days Before the Wedding
I walk into our home outside New York in the Hudson River Valley. Sofia's mother encouraged the purchase, but I don't think my soon-to-be wife is happy with the place. She's never happy when she comes home, but I know she won't say shit, always worried about hurting others. Christ, even the inside was decorated by our mothers. This countryside home is a mini mansion at 10,275 sq. ft., with five bedrooms, 6.5 bathrooms, two floors, and a 5-car garage. It boasts a wraparound porch, like the house I bought in the Hamptons as an engagement gift for Sofia. We use on weekends. But that one we decorated together, which is more us.
My brother is behind me as we walk through the front door and around the foyer, passing the curved stairwell. When we hit the living room, Candice is sprawled out, completely naked, on the new gray sectional sofa, one of the only things Sofia picked out.
When she sees us walk in, she smirks.
"I've been waiting for you, baby."
She says it, trying to be sexy, but it comes out nasally and is just plain annoying. She starts to slide her finger through her very wet folds, and my cock barely pays attention; it normally doesn't these days, unless it's my wife-to-be.
Alexandr puts his hand on my shoulder, and I turn to him to see he's smiling from ear to ear, but his eyes show pain for Sofia.
"Please tell me she has someone else here, too," he begs, trying to hide his true feelings, and I force a laugh as Candice perks up.
"Mindy!" she shouts, and a gorgeous, curvy, blond beauty, with legs for days that walks out from under the arch that goes into the open plan kitchen. I recognize her from our threesome last year. She’s completely naked, too.
My brother groans, and then jogs over to her, knowing she'll distract him from what we both know I'm about to do. He quickly downs half a bottle of whiskey, making me wince, before lifting Mindy onto the only other thing Sofia picked out, the antique dining table just off the kitchen. She loves that table.
Shit.
He pushes her down and takes one of her very large fake tits into his mouth while he pulls down his jeans and yanks his hard cock out. He sheathes himself, then thrusts home.
I smirk, trying to hide my guilt about what they're doing on Sofia's prize possession, and look back at Candice, who's got two fingers thrusting into her pussy and the other hand holding out a bottle of whiskey to me with a smirk. I tilt my head to the side, looking at her. I know I shouldn't; the more I fuck around, the more guilty I've felt because I know I've fallen for my fiancée. I probably fell for her the day she called me grumpy, and then went to get me cookies. Still, I can't seem to admit it to myself yet, just like I couldn't for all these years. So I keep fucking around, which will probably bite me in the ass one day.
My dick barely pays attention around other women now. The only way I can get hard is to picture my girl. It pisses me off every time, and as soon as I come, the guilt knocks me on my ass.
I haven't physically fucked a girl who isn’t my bride-to-be since last week; I only finger fuck Candice, or women who approach me in bars. Then I let them blow me, hoping I can get hard for them, only to end up having to think of Sofia so they don't start rumors about me not being able to get it up. My body already knows she's all I need, but my mind won't let me think that way. I'm still in the “going against my father phase,” years later.
