Page 47 of Bloody Vows
“I don’t want anything that has to do with you.”
“Of course not.” I roll my shoulders, breathing in the steam of the coffee. It’s too early for this, but somehow with her, I don’t hate it. Fighting with her makes me feel alive, on edge in a way that reminds me of the rush of adrenaline before a boxing match. She makes me feel invigorated, always wondering what barb is coming next, what blow I’ll have to parry.
“In fact, I’m in a good mood this morning because you’re about to leave me alone for several days.” Simone smiles tightly. “Peace and quiet for… how long did you say it was?”
“I didn’t. A few days at least.” I set my coffee cup down, looking squarely at her. “But, Simone, I’ll remind you. You’re to stay in this house unless your security team is with you. The one thatIchose for you. And you will follow the rules that I’ve set. You meet with no one. You don’t discuss business with my associates. You stay in your sphere. And when I come back, you'll be ready to discuss the terms of our marriage like a rational adult."
Her face hardens in an instant. "The terms of our marriage? You mean the terms of my imprisonment?"
I huff out a sharp breath. "You're not imprisoned. You're protected."
"Same thing, in your world."
I step closer, close enough to see the rapid pulse at her throat, close enough to smell her perfume. "This is your world too,célie. It always has been. What I did was nothing different than any other man you’ve ever known would have done, nothing that your father wouldn’t have allowed if he was alive. He might have married you to me, if Konstantin had broached the offer while he was still in his good graces. The sooner you accept that, the happier you'll be."
Her lip curls up in a sneer. "I'll never be happy with you."
My jaw tightens as the words hit me. They shouldn’t hurt. I shouldn’t care. So long as she spreads her legs and gives me an heir, I shouldn’t give a damn how she feels about me. But something about the deadly certainty in her voice feels like a knife in my chest.
"We'll see about that," I say quietly, my voice deadly calm. "Enjoy your few days of freedom, Simone. When I get back, we're going to have a very long conversation about what it means to be my wife."
I walk away before I can say anything else, leaving my coffee behind.
I’ll eat on the plane.
—
The flight isas easy and uncomplicated as I would expect, given that I’m taking a private jet that now belongs to me. It’s far fromthe first time I’ve flown private, but there’s a distinct satisfaction in it beingmine.
Just as Simone is. Just as the entire Russo empire is now.
I try to focus on that as I eat breakfast on the plane and drink another cup of coffee, before looking over the documents that Konstantin and my father sent me. They’ll be meeting me in Vegas, the three of us scheduled to meet with the heads of families there, families that Konstantin is working on making connections with. As the second-largest power player in Miami, now, it’s crucial that I’m a part of these business deals.
It’s not my first time in Vegas, but it’s been a few years. The bright lights and crush of tourists send a thrill through me, as always—this is a place of unadulterated sin, and I’ve always enjoyed that. Gambling, drinking, women… I’m a man who has never found the need to pretend that I don’t have vices. I enjoy money and power—and all the luxury that money and power can bring me.
Like the penthouse at Caesar’s Palace. I head straight up as soon as I retrieve the key card from the front desk, my security remaining outside as I step into the luxurious suite. It overlooks the Strip, the sun glinting down on the crowds of people eager to indulge in unbridled hedonism.
I glance around, and I can’t help but think what it would be like to have Simone here. To press her up against the glass and fuck her in full view of the crowds below, her breath misting the glass as she cries out for me. Just the thought is enough to make me half-hard, and I suck in a breath, going straight for the minibar to pour myself a whiskey.
That evening, I meet my father and Konstantin for dinner downstairs. I’m escorted to a table near the back of the restaurant by the hostess, where the two of them are already waiting, sipping undoubtedly expensive liquor and chatting. Islide into my chair, immediately asking for a drink, and look at the two of them.
“Well?”
“Good to see you made it in one piece,” Konstantin says, taking a sip of his drink. “You look a little tired, Tristan. Are your new duties not settling well with you?”
My father gives me a look that tells me, in no uncertain terms, that I should think about what I say next.
“I’m doing fine,” I assure him. “Just long nights, acquainting myself with everything I’ve inherited and what I need to do to move Russo’s empire forward.”
“Yourempire now,” my father corrects. “Russo is dead.”
“Indeed.” I take the drink that the waitress brings me out of her hand, the burn of the whiskey welcome. “Here’s to dead rivals.”
Konstantin chuckles. “And your marriage? How is that agreeing with you? Your father said that Simone was proving to be a bit… difficult.”
“It’s fine.” I realize, too late, thatit’s finetwice in such quick succession suggests that everything is not, in fact, fine. “Simone is adjusting, just as I am. There are no problems.”
I sound like I’m protesting too much, I’m sure. Konstantin is watching me with a bland expression that gives away nothing, and my father’s gaze is narrow, taking in what I’m sure he knows is a lie.
