Page 68 of Nikola
“Nothing’s going to happen to you. I can’t believe you would do this without checking with me first.” I shook my head, still reeling from his admission. “And if something were to happen, Mama and I would be safe with the Nikolaevs or with Aunt Reina and Uncle Amon. This marriage talk makes no sense.”
“I told you,” Mama signed, and Papa’s expression darkened. She simply clicked her tongue and patted his hand in comfort.
“Is the contract signed?” I questioned. Papa nodded slowly and I threw my hands out wide. “What about Nikola?”
Papa’s eyes narrowed on me. “What about him?”
“You said he came to talk to you. What did he want?” Nikola surely wasn’t chitchatting with Papa for the hell of it. The two couldn’t stand each other, and that animosity had bled into every conversation I’d witnessed to date.
“He came to annoy me, that’s all.”
I reached up and pulled my hair at the roots, ready to argue some more, but we were interrupted when Sasha appeared at my door. His tall, muscular body crowded the frame, the ink on his body dark and bold not for the faint of heart.
Branka peered over his shoulder and he pulled her forward, wrapping his big arms around her. I tried to ignore the knot in my chest but failed.
Watching them be so open with their love made it easy to imagine what Nikola and I could have.
“Sasha, Papa is marrying me off,” I signed with shaky fingers. I’d never wanted to turn the men against each other any more than they already were, always preferring to play peacemaker, but there was a first time for everything. Sasha wouldn’t allow this marriage to go through if he saw how distressed I was. “I don’t want it. I can’t marry Amadeo.”
Then, to my shock, he uttered the last words I thought I’d ever hear: “I know, princess. Your papa and I talked it through. It’s for the best, and you’ll realize it too.”
My mouth fell open, and I stared at my blended family in shock.
Then I bolted out of the room, pushing Branka and Sasha out of the way.
It took me ten minutes of running through the manor to learn that Nikola wasn’t home. I found myself outside, panting, my hands braced on my knees.
A hand came to my shoulder and I whirled around. Marietta stood dressed in her favorite brand: Chanel. A black-and-white cocktail dress fit her slim frame and matched the white pumps on her feet.
“Hey,” I greeted her lamely.
“You look upset,” she remarked, pushing her black sunglasses up to sit on her head.
I let out a wry chuckle. “That’s probably because I am.”
She tilted her head. “What happened?”
“My parents, along with Sasha and Branka, plan on marrying me off to some stranger.”
She cocked a perfectly shaped brow. “I guess you’re not happy about it?”
I shook my head. “Who in their right mind would be happy about something like this?”
“Well, we need to do something about it.” I shot her a surprised look. “They can’t marry you off like cattle.”
“I agree, yet here we are.”
“Let’s find Nikola, he’ll put a stop to it.” Hope flickered inside my chest for the second time today, and my expression probably matched it. She started heading toward the driveway, passing the stone fountain we used to splash around in when we were younger.
“You think so?” I said, tripping over myself to follow her.
“Absolutely.” Her determined expression told me she believed it too. “He’ll know what to do. Get in the car.”
Normally, I would pause. Marietta was the worst, most distracted driver I’d ever had the displeasure of witnessing behind the wheel, but today I slid into her Maserati eagerly.
“Where is Nikola anyhow?” I asked her after I clicked the seat belt.
“The Den of Sin.”
