Page 10 of Vicious Devotion

Which is better? I can’t think of which would be worse at this moment—the cruel but comparably brief torture of being given to his men, who will tear me apart before long, or the long, slow death by inches of being Igor’s bride, forced to bear his child, to be torn between a man I would die to escape and a child that I will undoubtedly want to live for.

And that, I realize, in the instant that he tells me his decision, is why he’ll keep me for himself, no matter what. Because in the end, marrying me is the cruelest option, by far.

“I’ve decided your virtue doesn’t matter,” Igor says, just as the thought enters my mind, as if confirming my suspicions. “At the end of the day, Bella—I need an heir, and you can give me one. And, after all, I think it’s fitting.” His smile broadens, cruel and cold. “Your family was the reason I lost my son. And you will give me a new one.”

I ignore the fact that it was his own decisions that led to Pyotr’s death—his choice to make the wedding a trap, to seek retribution. I know he’ll always turn it back to the theft of Pyotr’s first intended bride, the fact that if my family had just abided by their agreement, supposedly none of this would have happened. Never mind that I think the Bratva would have always sought to betray any agreement that they made with the D’Amelio family, eventually.

I summon the last of my courage, tilting my chin up to look at him. “You can’t make me.”

Igor laughs at that. “Oh, my dear, I can make you do whatever I please. You’re barely more than a girl, and I’m a man with power and influence, money, and the ability to bend almost anyone I want to my will. You’ll do as I tell you.”

“I could kill myself.” I clench my hands together in my lap, stifling my fear. “You can’t have me watched every second of every day, and there’s a hundred different ways I could manage it. I won’t give you a child, Igor. You can hurt me, but a child is a different matter?—”

Igor shakes his head, his smile fading. He turns towards me further, leaning forward over the arm of his chair, as if in confidence. “If I have to lock you in a bare room, without furniture or clothing or a single implement, I will, Bella. Don’t test me. I can make your life as comfortable as I please, or I can make it a misery. It’s up to you which it will be.”

His expression hardens, cold and calculating, and the fear spreads through me as I see his gentlemanly facade fall away. At that moment, I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that there’s no mercy, no softness in this man. If I test him, he will pay me back a thousandfold whatever frustrations or pain I cause him. Pyotr was nothing, compared to what his father will do.

The next words out of his mouth prove it entirely.

“I have no interest in a contentious marriage, Bella,” he says coldly. “I don’t wish to spend my remaining years fighting my bride for every inch of submission I demand. If you refuse me, I will go back to that house where I found you, and I will bring that man and his children here. If you fight me still, I will make you watch while I cut him apart. And the children?” His eyes are like flint, cold, hard steel. “The boy I might raise as my own. He’s young and malleable, enough that I could manipulate him. I could make him believe every terrible thing, even his own mother’s death, was his father’s fault. That I’m his savior, his hero. I could make him mine, a brutal man when he’s grown to serve my Bratva. And the girl?”

My stomach twists, nausea flooding me, but Igor doesn’t so much as flinch.

“The girl is old enough to make use of soon. Not for me—those aren’t my proclivities, but I know of men who would pay good money for her. Perhaps I’d even bring them here, while they bid for her, so you can see her fear. What your defiance will wreak. But of course—” He shrugs. “All of that is avoidable, Bella. All you need to do is accept your place, and submit to me. Accept that you will be my bride, and provide me an heir. As your father’s daughter, this was always your purpose, for someone. There’s no reason why it shouldn’t be me. And then I will leave them alone. They can live their lives, innocent and unharmed. Your Gabriel can keep his pretty family. Don’t worry for him, tesoro,” he adds, his gaze still cool and emotionless. “He’ll forget you soon enough. In fact, he may even be relieved that I’ve removed the danger from his door.”

I swallow hard, my mouth going dry. I know he’s telling the truth. He says all of it, all of these terrible, vicious threats, in a way that’s so simple, so casual, as if he has no worry, no fear that I could somehow outwit him.

He leans back, as if he sees the realization that I’m outmatched in my face. “I like your defiant spirit,” he says, that cold smile returning to the edges of his mouth. “But you have a little too much of it, my dear. Don’t worry. I’ll break you of that excess soon enough.”

There’s anticipation in his voice, and it makes my skin crawl. His gaze sweeps over me, as if he’s imagining the ways he might accomplish that, the things he could do.

“But,” he adds, sitting up as he reaches again for his glass of wine, “I will give you one concession. I intend to marry you, so we’ll do this right.” He looks at me, as if expecting gratitude, that I’ll appreciate him giving me one small boon when he’s tearing my life apart. “I won’t take you to bed until our wedding night.”

As much as I don’t want to show any emotion, I can’t help the relief that washes through me at that. I don’t know how I could have endured it tonight, after the threats he’s just made. Even closing my eyes and trying to imagine myself somewhere else wouldn’t have been enough. I feel like it would have broken me.

I feel certain it must show on my face. And from the satisfied look on his, I think it does.

I press my lips together, fighting back anything I might say. The truth is that I don’t entirely know what to say—and I think Igor prefers that I don’t speak at all. At the moment, all I can think is that at least I have a little time. I don’t know what might come of it, but I won’t be dragged to Igor’s bed tonight, or given to anyone else, and that relief is enough to take my breath away. But behind it is the heavy dread of knowing that the reprieve won’t last forever—and that my only chance at salvation might come with a cost too high to pay.

“Well, then. It’s settled.” Igor looks up as one of the maids comes in with the next course, another uniformed woman just behind her, presumably to clear away what we’ve been eating. Mine is still almost entirely untouched.

I couldn’t have said what was served for the rest of the dinner. It tasted like cardboard in my mouth, as I managed a few small bites, Igor eating heartily next to me. All I can think, as I poke at my food, is that I have time to find a way out.

And I can’t help but hope that it means Gabriel will have time to find me, before I’m forced to become Igor’s bride.

4

GABRIEL

It doesn’t take long to figure out, with the help of the men that Masseo has allotted me, that it will be almost impossible to get Bella out of Igor’s home without being caught.

Masseo sends me five of them, all men who have worked for him for some time. We sit down in the business lounge of the hotel, in a private side room, and they explain to me that they have some knowledge of what we’re up against, from intel gathered before Bella’s doomed wedding.

“The don wanted as much information as possible about Igor and his men. So some of his guys, and a handful of us, did some recon. Dug up some information, looked around the edges of his estate, and tried to get an idea of what kind of force he might bring with him. But it wasn’t easy to do. Information is one thing—you can always get information if you’re willing to pay for it.” Edgar, the man who seems to be in charge of the small group, leans back in his chair as he addresses me. “I think you probably know that, already.”

I nod. “I do.”

“Well, then. We can get some things, if you’re willing to pay whatever it takes to pry open certain mouths. A floor plan of Igor’s mansion, maybe. Someone who can hack into security cameras. But as far as us making a direct attack on the mansion, and trying to get this girl out?” Edgar shakes his head. “There’s no way. We’d all be slaughtered. Igor keeps heavy security. In fact, the only way I see this working in any scenario, if it’s going to be an extraction, is to keep a minimum of people going in. One, maybe two guys. That’s the best chance. But even then—” he frowns. “You’re looking at a suicide mission here, boss.”

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