Page 12 of Ruthless Reign

“What's wrong with learning how to sing?” Roman’s lips flatten into a thin line. It’s clear he finds Anatoly as charming as a rodent rooting around in his garbage. “I bet Liza has a beautiful singing voice.”

I can’t tell if that’s meant as a compliment or not, but my body reacts as if it is—a fluttering in my stomach that I try to dismiss.

“So, Vasiliev, there's a new route I've been meaning to discuss with you, one that could expand our reach significantly."

Roman swirls the wine in his glass. “I’m sure Liza and Sofiya don’t want to hear all of our business talk. Let’s leave that for after dinner.”

The sneer on Anatoly’s face says it all, but he doesn’t dare contradict Roman. Instead, he pushes back his chair and walks away, presumably to discuss something with my father, who’s a much more willing audience.

Sofiya catches my eye and gives me a ‘well, that was awkward’ look, but I shake my head. I really don’t want to give Anatoly any reason to get angry. Not tonight.

The clinking of a fork on glass catches the attention of everyone in the room, including my own. My gaze flicks to the head of the table, where I expect my father to rise and drunkenly give a gushing speech in honor of our esteemed guests—it’s certainly something he’s done many times before—but it’s not him summoning the room. It’s Anatoly.

All eyes are glued to him.

Unease drips down my spine when he holds up his champagne glass and angles his body towards me. I try not to look like a deer caught in headlights, but I know I won’t like what he’s going to say next.

“Anatoly, we’re still eating. This is not the time,” I implore.

He doesn’t respond but waits until everyone has gone silent. “As you all know, Liza and I are engaged to be married.” Murmurs of acknowledgement fill the room. “I’d like to announce that a wedding date has been set. A month from now, I’ll walk Liza down the aisle and make her my bride.” His eyes cut to mine, and I hate the possessive glimmer I find staring back at me.

Cheers erupt, my parents being the loudest. In fact, my mother practically sobs with happiness, spouting off her excitement, while the only thing I feel is cold, hard dread despite the smile I've plastered onto my face.

I knew this day was coming, but I prayed with every fiber of my being that it would be a long time in the future. But a month... How is that possible?

I can’t make eye contact with Kira, Sofiya, or anyone who may see through my thin veil of composure, but for some reason, my eyes land on Roman’s. What I see confuses the heck out of me. He looks downright pissed, like he might blow a gasket, for reasons that don’t make a lick of sense to me.

“Darling.” I fight to keep my voice steady as Anatoly approaches. “Isn’t this all a bit rushed? There’s still so much planning and organizing to do if we’re going to have the wedding of our … dreams.”

Anatoly scowls. “That’s what money is for, Elizaveta. I’ll hire the best wedding planner in the city. You don’t need to worry about the details.”

I stand, thinking I may throw up, but Anatoly takes that as an invitation to kiss me. His thin lips press against my own, and it’s all I can do to keep upright.

When he pulls away, he whispers into my ear, “I can’t wait any longer to fuck you, princess.”

Bile rises in my throat, but I swallow it down. Although we’ve done other things, I’m still a virgin because he wanted me pure for my wedding night.

I'm keenly aware of everyone's eyes on me, including Sofiya’s. I don't want her to worry or question why I look miserable at the prospect of this marriage. So, I push down my feelings, plaster on a smile, accept everyone's congratulations, and pretend that I'm not dying inside.

CHAPTER FIVE

LIZA

Leaning on the cold marble of the bathroom counter, I suck in deep breaths in an attempt to steady myself. Anatoly’s announcement still echoes in my ears.

I knew this day was coming, but I always secretly hoped I’d find another way to support my family and free myself from Anatoly’s grasp. That was just wishful thinking.

My eyes narrow on my reflection in the mirror. I’ve spent so much time wishing I could go back in time and undo all my choices that led to this moment.

It all started two years ago when I bumped into Anatoly at a fundraiser. I was just leaving the bathroom, chatting with an acquaintance, when he appeared in front of me. The first thing he did was apologize for his past behavior, for pursuing me when I clearly wasn’t interested.

I hate that I fell for his asshole-turned-nice-guy routine, but men like him are chameleons. They draw you in with sweet words and grand gestures until you’re in too deep to find your way out. That night he was charming, attentive, and surprisingly thoughtful. He seemed like a new man.

Not long after the fundraiser, he sent me a bouquet of my favorite flowers and asked if I’d go out with him. It had been five years since we’d graduated, and I figured that everyone changes and deserves a second chance. That first date turned into another, and then another. I wasn’t in love or even very attracted to him, but I knew those things could develop in time.

My parents were over the damn moon about the fact that I was going out with the future heir to the Petrovich fortune.

But everything changed about a year into the relationship. The attention and care he first showed me was fading fast. I was preparing to end it when my father lost a poker game to high-ranking members of the Kalinsky Bratva. By that point, we didn’t have the money to pay his debt, not even close.

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