I’m prepared for his lecture on the importance of keeping the Syndicate away from Katerina. On how I cannot trust her and must separate the two. She’s the daughter of the enemy and must never get close.
“You need to give this girl a chance,” he says with a sigh.
I whip my head back.
“What?” I demand, caught off guard.
“This girl didn’t have a choice in this either, I’m sure.” I try to deny it, not letting the possibility that she was forced become a reality, but he talks over me. “Hush, son. I dealt with Viktor long enough to know he forced his daughter into this. As I was saying, this girl didn’t have a choice either. In fact, you orchestrated this, and she’s merely a pawn. Be soft with her. Show her tenderness and affection. Don’t give her the cold shoulder. Don’t lock her on the other side of the house and sentence her to a life of solitude. And as much as those actions are for her, I think they’re also what you need. Let her be that lightness for you. Look at how happy Roman is with Cecilia. Maybe Katerina could be that for you.”
I stay silent because he’s so wrong.
There’s no way the porcelain doll could be anything but an inconvenience for me. And I certainly don’t need her.
“Thank you for the advice,” I say curtly. “I need to get to the church.”
I see the disappointment in his eyes and try not to let it affect me.
I can’t be that man. I have to put the Syndicate first.
…
The massive church mocks me from my spot on the altar.
Unlike at my brother’s weddings, I stand alone. It’s symbolic of how I feel. How alone in this I am. How alone I always am.
I may be close to my brothers, but they don’t understand the levity and toll the Syndicate has on me. To rule it alone is a feat they can’t comprehend.
Stefan is the closest thing I have to a friend, but even our relationship is more business-based.
Music starts to play, and my heart stops as I’m filled with dread.
This is it.
The doors open, and there she is.
Katerina Sokolov stands at the end as a beautiful bride.
Well… she’s beautiful. Her dress, though, is hideous.
Her face is stoic, and although her gaze is in my direction, it seems to shoot straight through me.
She glides down the aisle seamlessly. Every part of her, every one of her movements, are immaculate.
I should feel excited. Hopeful. Loving.
But instead, all I feel is… nothing.
As I look at the porcelain doll, I feel empty inside.
There’s no disdain for her despite my hatred for her family.
There’s no affection for my future wife.
I’m just empty.
Closing my eyes, I take a calming breath, basking in this last moment of freedom.
Chapter 15
