Page 55 of Bound By Hate (Born in Blood)

She doesn’t say anything more. The only indicator of her feelings is her eyes, and they’re telling me she doesn’t believe me one bit.

Chapter

Nine

VIKTORIYA

It’s official.

I’m getting married.

And I’m not looking forward to it one bit.

“What do you mean the wedding will happen tomorrow?” I ask Mikhail from my bed, where my body is still bruised. My rib is still cracked and won’t be healed for a couple of weeks.

“I need to get you married as soon as possible. I don’t want Gleb coming back and trying to hurt you again. So, for your own safety, the wedding will take place tomorrow. You already have the dress.” He glances toward the closet, where it hangs on the back of the door.

“But my face looks like this.” I point to the large bruise on my jaw and chin. “And my rib is still broken. I can barely move. You’re going to make me get married when I’m like this?”

“Yes.”

I huff, but that only ends up hurting my rib, and I clench my hands to my side to stop the pain. “You’re a cold asshole, you know that?”

“And you’re an ice queen. I’ve heard what people call you. You’re doing this, Viktoriya. It needs to happen for your safety.”

“Like you care about my safety. The only person you care about is Sofiya. If Gleb had stolen Sofiya away, you would have killed him already.”

“I let him go because I’m not looking to start fights where I don’t have to. It’s what has led me to being the leader I am today. I’m practical.”

“Emotionless.”

His lips barely move as he replies. “Nonetheless, this is happening. Aleksander will be waiting at the church tomorrow. Don’t think about running again.”

“You really think I could run in the state I’m in?”

“I don’t like you, Viktoriya, but you’re an impressive woman. I think you can do many things when you put your mind to it. So, I’m telling you not to run. For Sofiya’s sake. She was worried about you, and I don’t like to see my wife scared. Aleksander is a good man. He’ll protect you. As you know, this could all be worse.”

I flinch. He’s right. I do know how bad it can get. I just lived through it, and now, I’m a murderer because of it. I’m soaked in blood. I guess I really am a Bratva princess, after all.

“Can’t we at least wait for my bruise to heal?” I ask.

“No.” With that cold word, he leaves.

There’s no getting past this. Aleksander will become my husband. He’s not worthy of me any more than Gleb. I learned with Gleb and Akim that no man is worthy of me and never will be.

Aleksander will have his hands full with me. He thinks he can break me down. He thinks he can put me in my place.

But I’m a fighter, and I’m not going to stop fighting until I’m dead.

I somehow feel even worse the next day. My bruise has turned a horrible, ugly green and yellow. I try to cover it up with makeup, but it’s futile. There’s no covering what I went through.

Just standing is killing me. It’s hard to take in a deep breath with my broken rib, and it’s making me feel faint.

I stare at my wedding dress—the one Aleksander chose for me (howfuckingironic)—and wonder how I’m going to put it on. I can’t even lift my hands above my head. And I refuse to ask for help. I’m Viktoriya Morozova. I’m no weakling.

Gritting my teeth, I manage to take my pajamas off and slip the wedding dress up to my waist. But I can’t get the rest up. This dress is supposed to be regal, something fit for a queen.

Right now, the last thing I feel like is a queen.

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