Page 6 of Devil's Bride

He smiles, then he nods.

I glance at Arielle who’s watching this interchange with a small frown. “Where are you taking me?” I ask. As much as I want, I can’t let myself go without someone knowing where he’s taking me. What if he hurts me just to get back at my father?

He shifts his weight, turning to move. “Home.”

“How am I certain you won’t murder me and toss my body down some sewer on the way?” I ask, narrowing my eyes on him. I have a feeling he won’t hurt me, but that may just be me being stupid. I mean, the man is handsome and I’d fuck him if he wasn’t the Pakhan of the Vadim Russian Bratva.

“Do I look like I want to hurt you?” He takes a step closer, our bodies touching. “I won’t kill you, malyshka. Not when fucking you is my priority.”

“I’m not surprised you prioritize the wrong things.” I desperately hope he doesn’t notice the way my breath hitches. I instinctively take a step back. “I’ll grab my bag.”

I turn around and nod to Arielle. She loops her arm through mine and follow me to Ms. Bakers office. Ms. Baker is my father’s friend and the owner of the animal shelter.

“Irina, I think he’s interested in you,” Arielle says as we stroll through the narrow hallway leading to the office.

“He isn’t. He’s just a horny bastard who can’t keep it in his pants.”

My best friend shakes her head. “You’re so oblivious. Have you seen the way he looks at you? That doesn’t look like being just horny to me.”

I push open the door to the office and we walk inside. “You’re delusional.” I unlink my arm from Arielle’s and pick up my purse. Opening it, I pull out my phone and share my location with Arielle. “Just in case something happens to me.”

“I’m sure he doesn’t bite,” she says, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “At least, not in a way that wouldn’t bring you pleasure.”

I roll my eyes as I send a text to my father to tell him Alexei is driving me home. With the way he hates Alexei, he’ll be mad when he gets my text…or maybe not. They’d had a conversation on the balcony, out of earshot, at the gala last night.

Alexei leads me to one of the SUVs when I return outside. He opens the backdoor and holds it for me to enter, then he takes the seat beside me. The engine roars to life and the vehicle surges forward.

My thoughts whirl on the drive back home. I rest my head on the window, staring at the passing scenery. Anything to distract me from the churning in my stomach and the thought that Alexei is sitting so close to me.

Thankfully, he focuses on replying to messages and emails for the hour it takes to get to my father’s mansion. The driver pulls the car to the curb and turns off the engine. I grab my bag, opening the door and sliding out before any of the bodyguards can come to help me.

I’m surprised when Alexei doesn’t get out, even if only to taunt me a bit more. Just before I shut the car door, he simply says, “I’ll see you again in a few days.” And then his car moves off.

I stand staring at car until it’s completely out of sight. I sigh, perplexed before turning to head inside.

The smell of deep-fried chicken greets me as I step into the foyer of the mansion, followed by my mother’s voice as she instructs the chef in the kitchen. I shake my head and climb the stairs to my bedroom. Once inside my room, I kick off my shoes, toss my purse on the customized pink recliner in a corner of the room and fall on my bed.

My gaze is fixed on the ceiling, but all I can think of Alexei. Why did he offer to drive me home? And why did he seem so cold after he dropped me off? I just can’t figure him out, no matter how hard I try.

***

My parents and brother are already seated by the time I come downstairs. As usual, my father is sitting at the head of the table. My mother is sitting on his left and my brother on his right. I settle on the chair next to my mother and check out the food on the table.

There’s way too much, more than we could ever eat. We usually have some left over but today seems off, it’s like we’re expecting a small group of guests.

I reach for a plate at the center of the table and begin to fill it with deep fried chicken wings. “What’s the occasion?”

My brother and mother exchange glances with each other, then they both look at my father. None of them care to answer my question.

I add some broccoli to my plate. “Is no one going to tell me what this feast is all about?”

My father clears his throat and wipes his mouth with a napkin. “You’re getting married a week from now.”

I scoff. My father has a terrible sense of humor if he’s playing a prank. “Getting married? Stop messing around, Dad. I don’t even have a boyfriend.” I look at the others, expecting everyone else to laugh. None of them do, which can only mean it’s not some sort of sick joke. “You’re joking, aren’t you?”

“I’m not,” my father says dryly. “It’s been decided.”

“Decided by whom?” Anger flares in my chest and a part of me refuses to believe this is real. It can’t be fucking real. “Look, Dad. I don’t know what this is about, but I’m not interested, and I’ve lost my appetite.”

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