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“I'll learn to love him,” I concluded.
At least the sex is good.
The disappointment in my father's eyes was unmistakable. He was obviously not comfortable with the thought, but it was my life and I had made my choice. I was doing it for him, for his safety. One day he would understand, but until then he had to trust that I knew what I was doing.
“Don't forget one thing, dear,” he said after a minute of silence, “the Russians prefer death to divorce.”
My heart was racing.
“Once you've signed the marriage contract, there's no going back.”
I hid my fears with a nervous smile and pretended that his words didn’t just scare me.
Chapter 12 - Nikolai
She is fucking gorgeous. And she is now officially mine.
A smile played around my lips as I looked over my shoulder and gushed about her beauty. She sat next to me, beautifully dressed in her expensive wedding dress. Yes, I made sure she had the best. The best hairdresser, the best make-up artist, and judging by how elegant she looked, I'd say it was money well spent.
I sensed the hostility in her move as I reached out my hand to hold hers. The hand was skillfully withdrawn, with a graceful yet slightly dismissive finesse.
I ignored the attitude; my gaze fell on the hairdresser's work. My bride's blonde hair was expertly arranged on her head, forming an enchanting wreath of shimmering strands that fell gracefully and framed her face with a radiant halo of golden hues.
She was not happy, but she would learn in due course. I adjusted my black tuxedo and loosened the tie around my neck. Ashley knew I was staring at her; but stubborn as she was, she glanced at me, turned away quickly, and leaned her head toward the window to watch the horizon.
I wasn't driving today because Savic insisted that I let him drive me and my bride on this special day. Of course I objected, but obviously I lost the argument. Now I was glad I did. At least I could focus all my attention on her rather than the road.
“This is supposed to be a happy day for us, you know,” I finally broke the deafening silence.
“A happy day for you, you mean,” she replied. It was nice to hear that sweet voice again, even if it was full of sarcasm.
I was quiet for a second. “It's our wedding, Ashley.”
“A marriage you forced me to.” She shot me a look that could burn toast from a mile away.
“Well … when you say it like that, I feel like a narcissist.” That was my terrible idea of a joke. Without a word, she just continued to stare at me. I already knew she thought I was a narcissist. “I merely coaxed you into marrying me.” I chuckled.
“You coaxed me?” The disbelief in her voice was clear to hear. “You could call it that,” she snickered. “You threatened my father … my family.”
I looked at her in silence as she struggled furiously with the buckle of her left shoe. She had already taken off the other one, but she was still struggling with this one. I thought to myself that the shoes must be hurting her feet, and a sudden anger sparked in me, while I found comfort in the things, I would do to whoever had bought those shoes.
I tried to help her, but she slapped my hand away while she grumbled and mumbled something I didn't understand.
“Could you just calm down?” I asked softly.
“That's easy for you to say! You're not the one who's stuck in an unhappy marriage for the rest of your life–forever!” She lashed out at me, emphasizing the last word. “And believe me, forever is a long time. An exceptionally long time, and I'm going to spend it with you.”
“Is that how you truly feel?” I inquired because from her words, she'd labeled me a tyrant.
“Yes, Nik!” Her reply came quickly. “That's exactly how I feel, because the truth is, I thought I could do this, I thought I could take it, but I'm not so sure anymore.” Her voice broke with each sentence, but she managed to hold back her tears. She sniffled and continued. “The truth is that from now on, Ashley Brooke is no more. On this day, Ashley Wolkov is born … with only one goal; to live in the shadow of the almighty Nikolai Wolkov.”
I hated that she had to go through all this because of me, but I didn't want her to see it, so I infuriated her even more with my arrogant response.
“Oh, you're aware of this. That's good!” I teased her, ignoring the sadness and hatred that lit up her face. I knew it had hurt her and broken her heart, but I was acting like the narcissist she thought I was, the bully. I acted like I didn't care. I grabbed her chin and forced her to look at me. “You're mine, Ashley. Do you understand me? Mine. And I'll do everything in my power to protect our child and you.” I let go of her and laughed angrily as she glared at me.
We came home and settled in. I allowed her to rest for a while and familiarize herself with her new reality. She never said a word to me, at least not until I provoked her, and I was incredibly good at provoking her. She was so damn cute when she was mad at me. As smart as she was, but she fell into my trap of playing cat and mouse.
I was lying shirtless on the bed with my arms folded behind my head when she came out of the bathroom in her blue pajamas.
