The Russian Roulette [The Mafia Chronicles #2]

Chapter XXIII

For the long months Sophie lived in the Dimitri mansion, she never exactly enjoyed the perks of being Alexi's wife. She sulked in duty and learned to adapt to her new life, but she never entertained the thought of truly becoming who she could be.

The Donna of the Russian mafia.

Not just the kind, motherly, and welcoming Sophie she always was, But the Sophie that made the leader of the Italian mafia whither in pain and beg as she held him by the throat. That same Sophie that has the Russian Don wrapped around her fingers.

The thought of embracing what being Alexi's wife entailed was well-entertained as she took over the preparations for the dinner, which could be dubbed a ball if only a sinfonietta was present. The planners and designers ran after her for approval and chefs lapped for a drop of her praises. She fucking loved it.

She no longer felt timid or out of place in her new home. That took a while to happen, but it did ensue, nonetheless. She no longer corrected servants when they bowed or called her Donna or Mrs. Dimitri.

I told Alexi I'm not here to change his traditions, so what's the harm in joining in on them? The thought creeped into her mind during preparations for the dinner.

She most definitely entertained the thought of fully accepting the life she was thrust into when Alexi pulled out a black credit card filled with unlimited amounts of money for Sophie to spend. "Can I do some last-minute shopping?" She had asked him while tilting her head to the side with a smile that Alexi was all too familiar with. The one that he craved. The one that brought him to kneel before her just to see it on her face.

Seeing that Alexi's ears were adorned with diamond piercings, Sophie thought she could get herself a small accessory. Her purchase wouldn't even cause a dent in Alexi's pocket, but even if it did; she didn't give a single fuck. Matter of fact, neither did he.

He took me from my family after he hurt my father, would it hurt to make his pockets hurt? Sophie thought as she wore the commissioned Saint Laurent dress Alexi bought for her. The answer is no. She didn't know when her thinking shifted like that, but it was changed drastically by the time Eva walked into her room holding the small jewelry Sophie ordered that day. The perks of being ranked above upper-class society is that whatever you want is brought to you whenever you want.

The small ruby necklace that now adorned her neck was worth around two hundred thousand dollars. She decided to start with miniscule purchases. The bright red color of the gem was eye-catching in contrast to onyx silk dress Sophie wore. The dress was floor-length and had a slit that rose to the top of her thigh while chains of silver crisscrossed and met at the ends of the slit fabric. Her back was completely bare till the bottom of her spine, save for the two straps on her shoulders.

As she looked at the mirror, she felt like a siren that was raised amongst nymphs, believing it was one. But now, that siren found where it belonged. With other sirens.

Yes, you could look powerful with certain articles of clothing and glinting gems, but no one could ever warn you about the feeling of power seeping within you as you watch others acknowledge who you are. It's almost like a psychedelic drug, shifting and changing everything in your line of vision. You walk like your body is beyond succumbing to gravity. It starts slowly but soon enough; it makes its presence known.

No, it's not a psychedelic drug. It's a venomous substance.

It's absorbed by your greedy body, who is only too willing to welcome it with in and let it take control of your being. It crawls through your veins and arteries and branches through your capillaries ungracefully. You mistake it shoveling through your vessels for blood pumping through you.