Forced Marriage Vows

11. Anastasia

CHAPTER 11

Anastasia

M y brother heads back to L.A. two days after his arrival. He promised he’d be back in time for the wedding. Which we all seem to have accepted is happening.

Leah’s by my side on my bed, going through wedding dresses that I can order and have shipped in time for the ceremony. It’s bizarre and I’m treading the line between overwhelmed and terrified.

On some level, a part of me has come to accept it as well. That I’ll be getting married to Mikhail Morozova. And I have to give him some credit because he’s gone out of his way to make me comfortable enough that I’m not actively fighting against him anymore.

It’s hopeless anyway. The only person that could possibly save me is my father and he hasn’t even tried to contact me once since everything went down. Which means he’s leaving me to my fate. It hurts a little, but I’d rather he was safe.

I can take care of myself. And this wedding to Mikhail isn’t the death sentence I was terrified it was going to be.

“Stop thinking about it so much, Stassy,” Leah cautions, drawing my attention.

“I wasn’t,” I lie.

“But you were, and dwelling on it isn’t going to change things. Unless you let me help you, of course.”

I smile. “And how would you do that?”

“We could go to my father,” she says, bringing up the argument she’s been pressing since yesterday when she arrived.

Her father’s an extremely wealthy businessman who works with the Bratva. He’s not in it, but he does provide assistance to them occasionally and vice versa. It’s how we met.

“That’s sweet, Leah. But like I keep telling you, there’s nothing he can do.”

She frowns. “It sounds like you’re giving up.”

“I’m just trying to make sure no one gets hurt.”

“Okay, fine. But if you’re going to get married, we have to make sure you’re the hottest bride in existence,” she says, picking up her phone again. “Hot enough that when Morozova sees you walking down the aisle, he’ll be so blinded by your beauty that he’ll refuse to marry you.”

I laugh. “If only we could be so lucky.”

She shows me some of the wedding dress options on her phone and we finally settle on a Vera Wang that’ll hug my waist before flowing down like a ball gown. The top half is a little sheer but modest enough for church, and the sleeves are lace. It’s perfect. If this was a wedding I actually wanted, I’d be much more excited to put it on.

“I will say, he’s not as bad as I thought he was going to be,” Leah says suddenly.

“Who?”

“Mikhail. You made him out to be a monster, but he’s been perfectly nice to me. And he made us breakfast this morning. No guy who cooks could ever be a bad guy.”

I pause. That’s the problem with Mikhail. I can’t tell if this is all an act. He’s doing all of this with a goal in mind, and I can’t tell if it’s genuine. All I know is that it’s making it hard to remember why I shouldn’t trust him.

“I think it’s because he wants us to like him. But that doesn’t mean we have to,” I tell my best friend.

“Hey, if I had to pick a man to be forced into a marriage with, he wouldn’t be a bad choice. Look on the bright side—your future husband is probably one of the sexiest men alive.”

I wish she wouldn’t remind me about that. I think back to our workout yesterday, my mind flashing to the way he looked lifting those weights. His muscles bulging and the sweat dripping from his shoulders. I have never been more turned on in my life than I was watching Mikhail work out and it was jarring.

What was even worse was that he noticed me looking at him. And it was embarrassing when he called me out on it. Sexy or not, he’s still a jerk.

“Whatever. Can we focus on the task at hand please?” I ask, wanting to think about anything but Mikhail.

Which is hard because he’s all I seem to think about these days.

In my nightmares, there’s a man without a face. And he’s strangling a woman to death on a table. I don’t know old I am. I don’t even know where I am. All I know is that the woman is in pain and begging for her life. She struggles and fights, but he doesn’t stop. He’s enjoying it.

When she finally falls still, he grabs a handkerchief and wipes his hands before starting to turn around. The menace in the air is palpable and I know without a doubt that this man is pure evil. There’s nothing right about him. He’s turning around when I wake up with a short gasp. I never get to see his face, but he always somehow manages to instill enough fear in me that I can’t fall back asleep after the dream.

I can scarcely breathe as the memory of it clouds my senses. I clutch my chest, trying to breathe normally. After a couple more tries, I’m throwing the covers to the side and getting to my feet.

I need to get out of here.

I feel claustrophobic, caged in. It’s the dead of the night and everything is heightened somehow. I manage to make it to Mikhail’s room and I only need to knock once before he’s opening the door.

“Anastasia,” he frowns, his eyes roaming over my face.

“I need air,” I tell him desperately, clutching my chest.

He lurches into action without hesitation, stepping out of his bedroom. He places a hand on my arm. His touch is featherlight and yet I manage to feel it all the way down to my toes. It anchors me somehow, helps me to remember that this is reality. The man in my dreams can’t harm me.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Mikhail murmurs softly. “Just breathe.”

He’s leading me toward the door to his house. We step out and head for a flight of stairs. There’s a door marked “roof,” and Mikhail opens it. We step out into the night and I finally inhale a lungful of air as the cold washes over me.

Mikhail doesn’t say anything as I step closer to the edge of the building. I place my hand on the railing as I gaze at the night sky, feeling my breathing return to normal. He settles down beside me and neither of us speaks for the longest moment.

“I’m sorry,” I feel the need to apologize. “I shouldn’t have woken you up.”

Usually, I’m able to calm myself down. But I think what made the nightmare worse was that I was in such an unfamiliar environment. If I had been in my space, I would have calmed down much easier.

“You don’t need to apologize, Anastasia. I wasn’t asleep. And even if I was, that doesn’t matter. You were in pain.”

“I was having a panic attack,” I correct. “I get them sometimes.”

I glance sideways and he has on a pensive look on his face as he considers my words.

“What triggers them?” he asks.

It feels almost embarrassing to be talking to him about this, but I do anyway.

“A dream,” I reply. “A dream that feels a lot like a memory. But I don’t remember anything.”

“What happens in the dream?”

“There’s a man and he’s choking a woman on a table. I’m watching as he chokes her to death and I can’t do anything about it. I can’t even breathe. It’s a terrifying sight, watching someone die.”

Mikhail doesn’t say anything for a long moment. When I look at him, his fists are clenched and there’s a simmering rage in his eyes.

“What is it?” I question.

He blinks and the expression clears. “Nothing, solnyshko . How long have you been having the nightmares?”

I shrug. “A pretty long time. It’s not usually that bad,” I assure him.

“And you can never see his face?”

“No. Why? You sound like you want to find the man,” I say, lightly teasing.

“I want to destroy anything that causes you pain,” he says, and the fierceness in that statement takes my breath away.

“Careful, Morozova. Your psychopathy is showing.”

The tense moment breaks and he chuckles. “You can come up here anytime. And after the wedding, I’ll let you go anywhere you want. This is all just a precaution to keep you safe.”

“So you keep telling me,” I say on a soft sigh. It’s silent for a couple of seconds before I speak again. “Do you know if Coda’s okay?”

I’ve been meaning to ask but it never seemed to be the right moment. I’m sure he’s worried sick, probably blaming himself for failing to protect me.

Mikhail arches an eyebrow in question. “Who?”

“My bodyguard. The one you knocked unconscious,” I clarify.

“And I should care about him why?”

“No one’s asking you to care about him. I just want to make sure he’s okay. Coda’s my friend.”

“I thought he was your bodyguard,” he retorts, and I don’t like the way his eyes narrow suspiciously.

There’s no way he knows. No one knows. I’ve always been a terrible liar, though, especially when caught off guard. I can already feel my cheeks turning red. I’m forced to look away before he can see the truth in my eyes.

“Anastasia,” Mikhail begins in a low voice. “Look at me.”

I grit my teeth.

“Tell me he hasn’t touched you,” he commands roughly.

If Coda was here right now, I would be very, very scared for his life.

“You’re being ridiculous,” I try but it’s no use.

“And I want you look me in the eye and tell me nothing is going on between the two of you,” he retorts.

I can’t believe something I’ve kept hidden from my father and everyone else was unearthed within five seconds by this man. Not that it matters because it’s really none of his business. My jaw tightens.

“It was a long time ago,” I confess in a rush.

Mikhail swears colorfully in Russian, his blue eyes darkening.

“You have no right to be reacting this way,” I snap. “You’ve dated people before, haven’t you?”

“Sure,” he growls. “But I wouldn’t stand before you asking about some woman I’ve fucked in the past. Besides, if he thinks you’re his, I’m sure he’s planning my murder right now. That’s important to know.”

“Well, let’s hope you’re right. And so what if you talk about the woman you’ve fucked? You can do that. Do you really think I’d care?” I ask, wanting to spite him.

“Bullshit,” Mikhail snarls. “You think I don’t notice how you look at me? You want me, Anastasia. I can see it in your eyes.”

“You’re being delusional again, Morozova. It’s getting a little sad.”

“Oh yeah?” he asks, taking a step closer and forcing me to move backwards until the back of my knees rest against the railing behind me.

His hands wrap around my waist, pulling me into his body. My mouth parts and I take in the burning intensity in his eyes, searing into me. We’re both breathing hard, chests heaving, lungs expanding.

“Yes,” I say, swallowing hard at the sight of his eyes darkening. “I don’t want you, Mikhail.”

He makes a low growl in the back of his throat when I say his name. My eyes drop to his lips and I suddenly feel lightheaded, desire tightening in the pit of my stomach.

“Big mistake, solnyshko .”

I’m not sure how it happens. I don’t know who steps in first and closes the distance. But I inhale for half a breath, less than a second, and then his lips are on mine.

He swallows my gasp and the brush of his lips is so soft at first that I’m not sure it’s even happening. My heart races in my chest. I should stop this. I should pull away. When I don’t, the kiss transforms completely. The gentleness is replaced by something more desperate and demanding.

One of his hands travels to my back, pulling me even closer, while his other hand goes to the side of my neck. His fingers grip the skin, splaying across my nape and into my hair. My heads spins. I part my lips to let out a soft breath and he captures the short bust of air before his tongue slides into my mouth.

Oh god, oh god, oh god.

My heart hammers against my ribs. I run my fingers up his chest, returning his fervor. Nothing else matters right now except us in this moment. His hair is so soft, and I can’t help but rake my nails across his scalp, arching my body against his to get closer.

Mihail kisses me like I’m the air he needs to breathe. Like any second he’s going to topple over the edge of a cliff and fall to his death, and that this kiss, this moment is the only thing that will save him. I feel flustered, unraveled, and a part of me can’t believe I’m letting this happen.

I think I’m drowning.

His heated tongue darts cleverly against the inside of my lips, curling around mine. He makes a noise at the back of his throat that I feel vibrate in my mouth, and there’s a certain hunger in his touch that I can feel acutely spreading through me as well.

Just before I beg him to take me, to fuck me, a sharp ringing cuts through the air. It’s like we’re both doused with cold water. I wrench away from him and Mikhail stumbles back. He stares at me for a second in shock. I’m breathing heavily, my entire body trembling as the weight of what just happened descends on me.

The ringing continues and he curses under his breath, pulling his phone out of his back pocket. He stares at it for a second like he’s about to throw it over the edge of the building. Then his eyes flutter shut and he slips it back into his pocket. He looks at me then, his gaze clearer, like he’s more in control. I’m still standing in shock.

“Anastasia,” he starts.

It’s his voice that jolts me out of it. I put a hand up to stop him from walking toward me, from speaking.

“This never happened.” I say the words determinedly, convincingly.

He looks like he’s going to say something else but I don’t give him a chance. I do something I know I’m going to regret later.

I run.