Page 24 of Sold to the Russian
“Of course, I did,” Cormac responded, a little annoyed now, like she was questioning his intelligence. “And now you do, too.”
Maeve felt a tear slip down her cheek. “Why the hell would you let me marry him then?”
“Because it’s the perfect plan, Maeve,” he said with pride that made her feverish. “No one would suspect the Irish would plant their own blood inside the heart of the Nikolai Bratva. You’re my eyes now. My leverage. You always were.”
Maeve sank onto the edge of the bed, cold all over. “You’re using me. Just like you used Uncle—”
He cut her off with a bored sigh. “You have a purpose now. Play your part. Get close to him. Learn what you can, however you can. And when the time comes, you’ll help us destroy the Nikolais from within.”
Us.
Of course, he wasn’t alone. Of course, Aleksander was still involved. A devil she’d never seen with her own eyes.
“I won’t let you use me.”
“Don’t be stupid, Maeve.” His tone was impatient. “You want freedom, don’t you? You want to be on your own. You want to live your life on your own terms without your old man leading you every step of the way. You’ve always wanted that, haven’t you?”
Maeve said nothing, but her breath caught in her throat.
Cormac sounded like he was smiling now. “I’ll give that to you if you do as I say. I’m making this promise to you as your father. I will give you what you want if you do what I want. Be good.”
And then the line went dead before she could respond.
Maeve stared at the screen, his words burrowing holes into her chest. Her father had known everything after all. She was his strategy. She’d been married off like a pawn in a sick game of chess, forced to do his bidding even without him watching her every move. He didn’t care that she could die doing this, trying to get into the head of another monster like himself, all in the name of becoming his mole. He didn’t care that Fedya could use her in place of whatever revenge he’d been orchestrating for the Irish since the moment he decided to play a fake American arms dealer.
And yet.
Yet, Maeve knew this could be her only chance at true freedom. Her father never made promises to her, never bargained or negotiated. He simply did as he pleased. But now he’d promised her this—this thing she’d been searching for since her mother died. He promised to leave her the hell alone, but only if she could betray the man he’d married her off to.
At that moment, Fedya’s words reverberated in her head.
Your life is mine now. Your mind, your body, your soul, your loyalty. They’re all mine now.
But that was a lie. A lie Fedya had made up to please himself. She didn’t belong to him or her father or anybody. The only person she belonged to was herself.
Her safety mattered. Her freedom mattered. Her future mattered. And now a decision had been thrust into her hands. She could either stay loyal to her father, who had used her and gained her freedom, or stay stuck in a marriage with Fedya Nikolai.
She ignored the faintest tug in her chest when her husband’s face flashed in her mind. She knew nothing of him, owed him nothing.
She hated him, and it would stay that way.
And just like that, it was clear what her decision would be.
Chapter 7 - Fedya
“I still can’t believe it,” Irina laughed out loud behind the passenger seat of Fedya’s car, surprise evident in the blue irises she shared with him. “Fedya Nikolai tries online dating. This is so headline worthy.”
Fedya rolled his eyes at his younger sister. “Don’t be so dramatic.”
Fedya had never gone shopping for any woman before and even though he knew some of the basics, he was inclined to get Maeve the best of anything she needed (whether or not she’d throw them at his face) and the right person for it, the one person he was sure could keep a secret even though he was technically lying to her about the identity of his mystery woman, was no one else than his sister. Irina Nikolai.
His sister, who, of course, barely believed him when he called her earlier that morning to ask for her expertise in women’s shopping, did not accept it until she arrived at the mall and met him there, pushing a half-filled trolley of women’s supplies and staring helplessly at the bra section.
Since he couldn’t tell her the truth about Maeve yet, he stuck with a story he’d cooked up before calling her. He’d grown bored and tried online dating for the fun of it—Viktor had suggested it once anyway—only to match with an ideal woman. He took her on a few dates, and they fell into an argument on the last one. Now, he was trying to appease her for hurting her feelings.
Sitting now, behind the steering wheel of his car, Fedya was mildly relieved that she seemed to believe his cock-and-bull online dating story. Unfortunately for him, though, it costhim an irritatingly constant teasing from her, one that he could barely tolerate but forced himself to.
“But seriously, you couldn’t think flowers or other sweet stuff like that?” Irina asked, digging through the bags of supplies he’d gotten with her help. “Women love that kind of stuff. Not two gigantic packs of sanitary pads—”
