Page 11 of Cinder
His name is Viktor Olicheckoff,and he is a coldhearted pakhan of the Olicheckoff Bratva. He is twice my age, with deep bags under his icy blue eyes and wet, droopy lips. He looks cruel and capable of great pain, and he just paid my brother ten million dollars to marry me. In a few days he will arrive in the country, and we will be married.
I stare at the photo on my brother’s laptop, bile rising in my throat and my stomach churning with fear.
I know exactly who Viktor Olicheckoff is. He’s a tyrant. Cruel and heartless.
Inside I’m screaming. But outwardly I remain calm, determined to not show Luca an ounce of fear. I won’t give himthe satisfaction of knowing I’d rather die than marry a man like that.
I can’t marry him.
But if I don’t, Luca will make our younger sister pay for my disobedience.
Of course, I could grab my sister, and we could run away. But Luca’s reach is far and wide. He might not be well liked. But his name still means something. And the last time we tried to run, we were found within the day and brought back to Luca.
Lucretia was spared. I was not.
Absentmindedly, I run my hand along my thigh where the six-inch scar has puckered the skin.
I can’t risk another attempt without a plan.Without help.Because I don’t doubt it when Luca says he’d let his men have their way with me.
If my virginity isn’t going to earn him the money he desires, he’ll make sure my suffering at the hands of his violent soldiers will give him the satisfaction he craves.
And that is nothing compared to what Viktor will do. Men like him let their deepest depravities out to play when they feel slighted.
I stare at the man who will soon become my husband, and goosebumps pebble the skin on my arms.
“What do you think, dear sister?” Luca asks, turning his chair to face me, a gleam in his eye and a smug smile on his lips.
The letter opener is on the desk, a little voice whispers. It’s my self-preservation begging me to do something to stop this marriage.Pick it up and show your evil brother what you think about this proposed marriage.
But I don’t. Because if I try and fail, Luca will make sure Lucretia pays for it, and I’d die a thousand deaths to prevent that from happening.
“Does it matter what I think?” I say with detachment.
“No, I suppose it doesn’t.” He tilts his head, still smiling. “You will be a good wife to him. Do as he says.”
I look away, my jaw set as I bite my tongue. Because if I say what I want to say, then he will hurt me.
He rises slowly from his chair to stand mere inches from me. His cold eyes roaming my face. “Do you have nothing to say?”
I bring my gaze back to him. “I won’t disappoint you.”
He smiles, but it lacks warmth. “No, you won’t.” He reaches up and drags his knuckles down my cheek. “Otherwise, I’ll make sure Lucretia learns first-hand what happens to those who disobey me.”
Viktor Olicheckoff’spicture didn’t do him justice.
He’s even worse in person.
Cold. Apathetic. Unfeeling. At sixty years old, his body hassoftened and his renowned love for vodka has given him spider veins and ruddy jowls, and a heavy middle-age spread.
But it’s not his physical appearance that repulses me the most. It’s the fact that his mere presence feels like a smothering black shadow.
The moment I lay eyes on him in my brother’s den, a shiver rolls down my back and goosebumps crawl across my skin.
I’ve just walked into hell.
Across the room, Viktor’s cold blue eyes sweep up and down my body, but his expression doesn’t change. He rises to his feet and walks over to me and silently walks around me like a shark circling its prey. I try to swallow, but my throat is too dry. Up close, he’s even more terrifying.
I keep my expression neutral. I’m not going to give either of these men the satisfaction of seeing my fear. But inwardly, I am screaming and shaking and begging God to help me escape this terrible fate.
