He left me with no choice but to do as he wanted. His plan was to marry me—against my will—and turn me into a full-time housewife. Basically, I’d still be his prisoner in private but his wife in public.
How the hell did I end up here?
Why did I ever touch that damn book in the first place? I should’ve ignored that mystery man in the library months ago. I should’ve just minded my own fuckin’ business and gone ahead with my life.
None of this would’ve happened to me if I’d never touched that ledger. Now I was paying the price. Dearly. My whole life was ruined because of one mistake, one lousy act of curiosity.
I was going to live the rest of my miserable life regretting ever crossing paths with this psycho.
Chapter 20 – Artur
She hated the idea of being married to me, of bearing the name Tarasov. She claimed it came with a lot of pain and dangerous enemies. She didn’t appreciate the fact that our unborn child would be raised in my violent world.
But there was nothing she could do about it because I’d made my decision. I was going to marry her, and she was going to raise that child under my care and protection. Period. She knew better than to object. Even though she tried and failed.
It had been a few more weeks since I took her to the gala, and until now, she’d refused to speak to me because, obviously, I was a “selfish maniac” who was so full of himself.
I’d killed people for far lesser crimes than that sharp tongue of hers. Yet every time she crossed a line, I’d find an excuse not to punish her.
This time, it was because she was pregnant. Being pregnant meant that her emotions were unstable and that she was in a fragile state.
Of course, I wasn’t going to punish her in that condition. She was carrying my child, for Christ’s sake.
Since she decided to stay away from me, I thought it wise to keep my distance. Besides, the wedding preparations were already ongoing. I put Hilda in charge. Who else did I trust to handle such an event?
The instructions were simple: to keep it simple but classy. I wanted the wedding to be strictly by invitation. Essentially, only family and very close relatives were expected at the church.
Now that the wedding plans had been made public, I knew Rocco Alessandro Romano would try to make a move. So, I took extra steps to frustrate his future efforts.
I ordered Konstantin to reevaluate every member of the Bratva under my supervision. And after a thorough digging, he found out that three of my men had been compromised. Again.
Without raising an alarm, I instructed him to take care of them silently. He did exactly that by sending them to hell and cleaning up the mess they’d left behind.
My men worked day and night just to make sure that the wedding was a success. Security was tripled around the house during the period. And no one came in or left the estate without my permission.
I learned from my mistake and vowed never to be caught by surprise again. Every loophole was sealed, leaving no crack for the enemy to slip through.
The big day arrived in no time: a small crowd, fancy suits, and elegant dresses. The venue was a church downtown, surrounded by nature and heavily armed Bratva men. Exotic cars were parked outside, a testament to the fact that this was a gathering of powerful and important people.
I stood on the altar, looking sharp in my perfectly tailored black tux, waiting for my bride. Eight of my best men stood guard, filling the front row. Their sharp eyes scanned the space, always on the lookout for anything unusual.
The front doors parted, and she appeared at the entrance, draped in the sunlight. My heart skipped a beat when I watched her march down the aisle, her ivory gown hugging her in all the right places.
Her hair was styled into a neat bun on top of her head, and her skin glowed under the chandelier’s warm light. Heads turned as she moved elegantly, the hem of her dress sweeping the floor behind her.
Gorgeous.
Those beautiful amber eyes were locked on me from across the aisle, her lips parted into a small grin. It seemed bothplastic and authentic. The nearer she drew to the altar, the more my pulse raced.
I couldn’t understand why I was nervous. I was the groom, the one in control of the situation. Petty feelings like this shouldn’t even creep in at all.
She moved like a pageant queen, gracious and confident. The shining pearls around her neck added to her overall sophistication. And her heels made her look inches taller.
It was like staring at a goddess, one that would be officially mine in a minute. I stretched out my hand and helped her accent the long steps before the altar.
When she stood in front of me with that soft expression on her face, something frozen thawed inside me.
The priest cleared his throat and began, his voice echoing off the walls. “Dearly beloved. We are gathered here today to witness….”