“No, that’s not necessary. I’ve barely even met her. She’s just some stranger I’m marrying. It’s just business.” I reach down and pat Mom’s hand comfortingly, but she pulls back and slaps my hand.
What the fuck?
“Absolutely not! You will know your fiancée. Marriage is not business. It may not start out as love, but you never know where it may lead to. Unless you ignore her, then it’ll go nowhere. I’m disappointed in you, Dominic.” She shoots out of her chair mid-scolding and glares at me.
I haven’t been reprimanded by my mother in a decade and a half. What the fuck is happening?
“You don’t understand. This is literally business. It’s for the Syndicate. I–” Before I can finish the sentence, she’s in my face.
“No! YOU don’t understand! This woman is going to be your wife. And you’ll treat her as such. I will not stand for a sonof mine to treat a woman poorly, especially not one he’s marrying.” Her eyes narrow as her nostrils flair.
“But–” I start.
“Dominic Daniel Montclair, you listen to me! You may think you’re some big hotshot running the Syndicate, but I’m still your mother. I don’t care how old you are, you were raised better than this. I taught you to respect women, and your father and I showed you what a healthy marriage looks like. I expect you to at least try!” Mom leaves the room, and Dad looks at me sternly before following her.
I stare at the floor in astonishment. I didn’t expect it to go well, but I definitely didn’t foresee it crushing Margot and upsetting Mom too.
I hear someone approach me, then a large hand grabs my arm.
“I’m so fucking sorry, Dom. I don’t even know what to say. Fuck,” I look up and see Roman run his hand over his buzzcut, “I know I messed up. I thought Matthias’s wedding would be the worst of it, but–”
“I don’t want to hear it. What’s done is done.” I cut him off. I don’t care to hear his guilt, let Cecilia deal with that.
The two of them exit the room, leaving me alone with Bash.
He just stares at me for a few minutes then sighs.
“Need a drink? I can make you one,” he offers plainly, and I smile at my sweet younger brother.
While I’m cold and stoic, Matthias is cocky and arrogant, and Roman is hotheaded and wrathful, Bash is unlike us. He’s laid back and calm. Happy. If not a little nerdy.
“I’m good. Let’s get through this dinner sober,” I sigh knowing alcohol won’t help my feelings.
He stands and slaps me on the back.
“If you ever need to run from her, you’re welcome at my house,” he tells me with a grin.
I snort at the idea of running from the porcelain doll. “She’s not that kind of woman. There isn’t anything intimidating about her. Plus, I don’t want to visit your suburban house. Don’t you miss the penthouse?”
Bash unexpectedly moved from his penthouse in the city to some middle-class suburb. None of us know the reason. It’s weird as fuck and such a downgrade, but he seems happy.
“Nope. This house has everything I could ever want.” He has a faraway look in his eyes when he says it and the creepiest grin on his face. He leaves the room looking excited…at the idea of his house?I don’t even have it in me to figure out what the fuck is wrong with him.
…
We’re eating dinner, ignoring the two empty seats that should be occupied by Margot and Matthias. Mom keeps shooting glares at me, and Dad keeps mediating. Bash has been a godsend. He redirects the conversation every time it starts to come back to my marriage.
And Roman and Cecilia seem to be in their own world as usual.
Looking at them laughing together, the way he looks at her… Could Mom be right? Could this marriage amount to something like that?
I’ve never been envious of my brothers and their wives. I’ve never so much as been tempted by it. I see the way Bash looks at them longingly, and I know he wants what they have, but I never have. Maybe there’s something wrong with me, but I just don’t have it in me to care for a woman. There’s too much risk and not enough reward.
But maybe something good could come from this marriage.
What the fuck am I saying?
No, I’m not like them. I don’t get to marry some woman off the streets. This is Katerina Sokolov. I’m marrying Viktor Sokolov’s daughter. The enemy. There can be no trust there. And there certainly can’t be any love.
