She didn’t run.
Like a porcelain doll, flawless and void of any emotion on her pretty face, Victoria walks down the aisle toward me between the sea of people I’ve invited to witness her family’s humiliation.
My father and the rest of our family sit at the front, watching her like hawks. Taking her in for the first time.
If I tore my eyes away from my bride, I know I’d be able to see Ekaterina’s displeasure all over her face—the loathing in those green, elongated eyes, the permanent grimace on her narrow mouth.
She was the only one who opposed this marriage, like she always opposes everything I do.
But my wife is a sight to behold, and I bet it pisses her off so much she’s practically boiling inside. The thought of my step-mother standing there, with her perfect makeup and her designer clothes clinging to her tense body almost makes me laugh.
All our allies are here, too, filling most of the pews.
And there, alone and cornered by everyone loyal to us, sits Victoria’s traitorous family—Nikolai Romanov, his wife, and their eldest daughter. Both women look miserable, like they’re about to burst into tears at any moment. Good. They didn’t lift a finger to help Victoria when she needed it most—not that it would’ve changed the outcome, obviously. But now, I have no intention of protecting them.
It’s been a long time coming, and the whole thing is even more satisfying than I imagined.
I keep my eyes trained ahead, seeing how my wife's dress molds to her hourglass figure and flows gracefully along her hips. The red diamonds of her necklace gleam under the sunlight seeping in through the windows. A beautiful, perfect collar for her.
When Victoria approaches, I see the tears threatening to spill from her eyes before she blinks, and they’re gone. I extend my hand toward her and pull her in, jerking her a little on purpose. They need to see this wedding for what it is—that I’m only doing it to prove a point.
I turn to face the priest and feel her shifting next to me, doing the same.
“We’re gathered here today to witness the union of this man and this woman in holy matrimony,” he says, followed by drawing the cross sign in the air. He knows better than to prolong this ceremony for longer than it needs to be. Which is why I’m glad when he skips ahead and asks, “Do you, Wolfgang, take Victoria to be your lawfully wedded wife? To love, honor, and protect her, in sickness and in health, for as long as you both shall live?”
“I do.”
“And do you, Victoria, take Wolfgang to be your lawfully wedded husband? To love and obey until you give your last breath?”
She clears her voice but keeps silent. What does she think she’ll accomplish by delaying it? Her submission is inevitable.
“I meant what I said,” she whispers so that only I can hear. “I will never love you, Wolfgang. And the only vow I can make you is that you will regret this day.”
No, I won’t.
“Victoria—”
“I do,” she says, loud and clear. As if she’s proud to announce it to the whole fucking world. Or… as if she thinks she has the upper hand. Wouldn’t surprise me.
I knew letting Sasha come and talk to her would lead to this. But if she thinks she has any chance of ever winning against me, she’s greatly mistaken.
Ivan approaches with the rings, and we put them on. Despite all her defiance, her slender hand still trembles, and I tighten my hold on it to calm her down.
She should know by now I wouldn’t hurt her. She’s just a pawn in this game, and now that she has my name, I will protect her with my life. As I would do for anyone else who had it.
“I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”
I step into her, closing the distance between us. Bringing my hand to the back of her head, I dig my fingers into her hair and expose her neck, keeping her in place as I look down to see her skin throb under her racing pulse. Then I simply lower myself to her and pry her lips open with mine for everyone to see. She’s mine.
My tongue finds hers—sweet, delicate, and velvety—and I have to actively stop myself from groaning because my cock is already fucking hard.
She pushes into my chest, wanting to break free. But I don’t fail to notice the little whimpers she lets out before she, too, realizes she’s supposed to keep those to herself.
When I pull away, she stays still, showing me she stopped fighting. And I don’t want to, I swear I fucking don’t, but something makes meneedto praise her for it. To teach her what I want more of. I keep my fingers in her hair and break the silence of the church.
“Good girl, Victoria. I’ll make sure to reward you some more later, in our bed.”
I grab her hand, and she gasps softly, but keeps her head high as I take us back up the aisle.
