hey cutie pies
Adriana's POV
My bedroom door slams shut, and insanity looms on the brink as footsteps pace my rug, a weird coil in my stomach tightening the longer I rethink what the actual hell just happened downstairs.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck." Curses spill under my breath and I push my hair back, sitting down on the edge of the bed. My knee bobbed up and down, like a ticking time-bomb with no promise of exploding gracefully.
The look on Papa's face as I was leaving the living room didn't help- I knew I was in for it once Nikolas was gone.
My heart pounds a wave each second, growing into a tsunami the longer I dwell on my meeting with the man. Unintentional meeting.
Thick, raggedy black hair that stuck out in a way that only screamed 'villain'. A ruggedly, dark, masculine charm, tied up into the absolute epitome of devastation as a person. However, that didn't detract from the fact that he was the enemy. All wrapped up perfectly, hidden under a cold, cold mask of a face. He looked bored out of his goddamn mind down there, but his reaction once he saw me turned that look right around.
Nikolas Volkov wasn't your practical, 'fuck-and-duck skater-boy who pops into the club, prim and proper, only to last for less than a minute', he was.. almost, the tiniest bit, scary. I couldn't explain it, but there was something about him.. maybe it was how he presented himself, like the entire world was aware of what he stood for and he didn't give a fuck otherwise- that compelled me in a way I never could've imagined.
The man every woman wanted, just as much as they feared death the moment he would cross.
My heart jumped to speed when the smooth sound of engines rumbled outside the window, and the moment I turned to look, Enzo barged into my room with no gentleness in his always gloomy facade.
"What the fuck were you thinking?"
I stand up and meet his crazed eyes, trying to compose myself. When it came to Enzo.. there was only one way out. My sister was more demure, or capable of getting under people's skin to the point that they had no choice but to listen to her. Me.. well, it was a different case for me.
"You only told me to stay in my room. That's nowhere near enough of a warning."
He rubbed a frustrated hand across his jaw, expression fading. "You don't get it, do you?" He smooths back his black hair. "Do you understand what the hell you just did?"
I blink, confused. "What?"
His broad shoulders sunk into indifference, but the cold kind. "Volkov. He came here to comp for what Stefan did to that Russian assassin unit."
Right. I remember hearing the whisperings of the incident through my spit-balling cousin Lorenzo and younger brother Leo. It was stupid, what the capo did, but I had no idea of the consequences- or that it would lead Nikolas Volkov himself to my fucking house.
"Meaning.. a compensation? For what the capo did?" My voice was as tight as how my silk shirt felt the moment the Russian's eyes landed on me. Enzo's chin dips in a tiny nod.
My jaw goes slack at his next words.
"A wife. That's what he wants."
Just like that, all the regrets, all the immunities I had granted from my shield of a firm voice, they silenced into a horrific, dead stillness. My throat went dry, no matter how hard I swallowed away the croakiness in my voice.
"A wife. He wants a wife." I repeat it, the beginnings of horrific thoughts embedding into my brain. My brother looks down at me, searching for my reaction
"Papa needs you in his study." His voice was firm, unmoving. My eyes flickered to him with dread.
No.
Oh God, please no.
My throat didn't make a sound as he turned around and left my room with no hindering amusement in sight.
Each of my steps towards the room downstairs left a wavering, invisible fear on my tail, but I pushed back my shoulders and went down the hall, stopping in front of the almost scary looking, dark-oak door.
A deep breath, and then I softly knocked.
"Come in."
I fidgeted with the robe around my body, wishing I'd put it on before deciding to follow my stupid impulse when the lower floor of my house had been brimming with the bloody enemy.
I sat down on the dreaded chair, wishing this would be like the last time where he'd told me to stay away from the Zanetti's. Apparently, being friends with someone who's father's played around with Papa's properties means it was a cold, hard insult to be seen with them.
The clock ticked. Papa's eyes scanned my face with unwanted discretion.
"You're aware of your mistake, then."
There was the ironclad proof that the fear written on my face was clear as day.
I cleared my throat, parted my lips, and started the half-written speech I'd conjured on my way down. "Yes, and-"
"No," He shook his head, cutting me off. "No excuses, not this time."
My lips parted, confusion not far away. "Excuses? This wasn't my fault, Papa."
"Who's was it, then? I told you to stay in your room, goddammit." His voice rusted at the end, volume increasing. He looked.. forlorn, in a way. Like whatever the hell happened after I scrambled upstairs wasn't a play on his part- but a wrecking ball towards his carefully built-up facade.
"Yeah, but-"
"Adriana. Listen to me carefully." He leaned forward.
"The Russians aren't fools. And that Volkov- he's far, far from a saint. Do you have any idea the number of men he's killed? How he's killed them?"
Bloody images fill my brain. I'd seen my father's gun launch itself down a man's throat at the age of seven. But even I knew the Russian horror stories from my childhood had to be somewhat true. I open my mouth, but nothing comes out.
"He's a fucking con, through and through. No matter what, he ends up getting whatever the hell he wants, conditions outweighed."
I could feel him gearing up. Something was happening. Nikolas had demanded something, and my father looked like he'd rather die than refuse it, no matter how morally grey he was like any other Italian man in the mafia. I suddenly wish Enzo was here- no matter how tight his chains were. He'd been thrown into this life as a young man, but he had a mindset of his own that didn't always align with Papa's.
His eyes flick to mine. "There's no way out- trust me, I've tried. You saw me with your uncle yesterday, we were planning just for this. We knew Volkov needed a payment, but.." He trailed off, finding the right words.
"You didn't know his request would be to marry me." I finish it for him, shaking my head already.
"I won't do it, Papa. I can't." I sit up, rounding my shoulders. This wasn't a fucking joke, everyone knew that. I wasn't some doll, and the fact that a mistake I made, a mistake, was multiplying into this giant mess- it just didn't make any sense.
I was aware of Nikolas's reputation, and didn't give a single fuck about tarnishing it. If his ego becomes bruised from this tiny brush of rejection, that's on him.
"You don't have a choice." His voice just made the fire in my throat grow.
"No. You see, I do have a choice, and that's because I have spent my entire life bound in this cage you've locked me in. You said no school, so I didn't go. No going abroad. No boyfriend. I've listened to you, all my life, and you can't let me have this?" My chest rises faster with my breaths.
I wasn't gonna cry. I haven't cried, not since a year ago, and I wasn't going to. Over this stupid argument, no less. I haven't protested my longing for freedom, not since I was four and begging to go to school like Leo.
"Adriana." He warns, eyes going dark.
Papa was one of the Cosa Nostra's most high-profile bosses, married to Caterina Mancini, my mamma with no less of a vantage point than his. Aurora was Papa's usual pariah, an angel in a soft bolero with wings practically visible from space. I was just as opposite- a red-coated, 'overbearing' labeled woman by all of my family. If polar opposites were in the same family, it would be me and her, undoubtedly.
Maybe mamma is where I got it from, this tempered rage unwilling to back off until it was fed it's fire. Right now, it felt like I was burning whole.
"No. This is stupid- you want me to marry the enemy. What happened to all the talk about not stepping one foot near them?"
"That was before we killed their soldiers, cazzo." His hand rubbed a rough trail across his light scruffed jaw- I could tell he was very, very frustrated. Dealing with me for this many years was enough, and now I was surely being a difficult fucking chess-piece in this whole dummy game.
"So technically, you're admitting this is your fault?" I've never spoken like this to Papa, not ever. No matter how many times he's offended my wishes, or how hard the rejection in my chest pounded with regret every time he ordered me around like I was every other mafia princess. Being born into this life wasn't my fault, and neither was wanting to escape it. He had to understand, and I wouldn't leave this room without that happening.
His eyes shot up like a half-filled tumbler of whiskey."Enough. I've told you marriages like these are no more than power plays. This will do no more than benefit us, and you know that."
I almost scoffed- although his rough tone screamed non-negotiable more than ever, and no way was I going to be the first one to suffer the wrath of my papa and end up with a bruised cheek as I stumbled out the study.
"Besides, your mamma is on the end of her brink. We've let you drag your feet far too long, and this will do you good too, Adriana."
Good?
What part of 'marry a Russian man with a kill count as big as his body' sounds good?
My stomach lurched at the thought, of him creeping into my room in the dead of night with a dagger as black as his soul.
Someone like him didn't belong next to me on an altar, not when his presence all but consumed every molecule of air and replaced it with that terrifying, cruel presence. Whisperings were nowhere near thorough enough to tell the tales of this man that was a villain, through and through.
And then there was the way he said my name.. as if it was a mockery. A toy, to play around with. My heart sunk at the thought. I don't wanna go down that route again.
I almost let the thought of him dragging his gold-heavy eyes over my body interrupt the rage. My retort hit the backs of my teeth, threatening to slip out, so I shut my mouth closed.
"There's no way out, Adriana. He will slaughter the rest of the family- including you, if we don't concur."
Papa's words didn't mean nothing. In this world, threats were only spoken to be taken seriously- that was it. You had your orders given, point-blank, and were expected to follow.
The clock ticking fills the silence.
"I'm giving you one day. Tomorrow," He tapped the polished wood, "You can either answer with a yes, or simply watch as everyone else faces the consequences."
If that wasn't a threat, I don't know what was. My eyes lift, heavy with the exhaustion of indecisiveness and borderline-insanity from thinking about the subject. I felt defeated, and the time he gave me hadn't even started yet.
With nothing but a look, based on the pathetic last resort of self-pity, I exited the study with as much confidence as I could, head held-high. God forbid I showed any weakness- especially when my own father doubted the elasticity of my decision.
I shut my bedroom door, barely making it half-way across the rug when it opened again and in walked Aurora, swaying in a light pink sundress. Concern edged her face, and her skin all but shone under the slight moonlight coming in from the window taking up one whole wall.
"So?" She questioned, arms crossed while I flopped down on my pearl-duvet, glancing at the Chase Atlantic posters sprawled across the walls.
I don't give a fuck if I end up marrying him. I'll live like I normally do.
Oh, how I wished to slap on my pair of headphones and snuggle under the duvet, just to escape all of this- for a second. Drake's 'Certified Lover Boy' album cover became an erratic pop of color against all the neutrals, unlike my sister's room painted in various shades of pastel pink, blue, and white.
"Would you come with me if I ran away?" My lips twist, deep in thought. I feel the bed dip next to me as she takes her spot.
"Only if you promise to buy me everything I want. Including that dress Agoria Lowell wore on her last runway." She'd fussed over the simple piece of white silk like it was made from woven gold, and it'd been months since the topic had been brought up again.
I roll my eyes. "Haven't I bought you enough? Papa probably wonders why you haven't asked for anything in a while. It's all coming from my pocket."
"Actually, Enzo was the one who bought me Lilli's custom-made jewelry drawer. First time I've seen him give into buying something so vintage." She popped out the requests and their giver like Nonna with her kids. Mamma had a total of seven siblings, all parents except for the oldest, who we grew into the habit of calling Lucia instead of the usual formal term, zia.
"I doubt I would be able to smuggle enough cash into my bags for a pair of jeans, let alone a three-thousand dollar dress, Aurora." Credit wasn't an option, not when all my accounts were tracked and monitored.
"Okay, but tell me about Nikolas. He's not that bad, is he?" I sit up, scoffing, and she raises her eyebrows. "Oh, so it's serious, then."
"I mean.." My lips tilt upwards in a smirk. "He's definitely not Darren from the club." I think of my usual when I'd end up wanting to lose myself in a battle between sheets and lust. The brunette bar server had been- probably the best among all the other men there. Only thing is.. he liked it vanilla. Almost a little too much, that I found myself giving in the moment he'd come over with my shot of whiskey and bend down to whisper in my ear how the dress I was wearing complimented my hair, or how my red lipstick suited me perfectly.
With Nikolas.. I shiver, thinking of the way his eyes raked over me. In that moment, I swear all the other men's eyes turned into dust. His made me feel hot, like an electric wire touching water.
God, you haven't even seen him up close. Quit the fantasizing.
"So when can I be an aunt? A year? Two, if you keep using birth control?" My jaw drops, down to the floor.
"Aurora. Cut it out. I'm not even marrying him in the first place, so you don't have to worry about that." The thought of him and me.. my throat tightens with a swallow.
Sex was far forgotten. It was a terrible thing, how so many women ended up with a man old enough to be considered her Nonno, and still be forced to have his kids. It was all the matter about continuing the bloodline, and I fucking hated the idea of it. Layla, my best friend, had been thrown into the life too early- luckily for her, this current one was old enough to be considered an alive casket if he was seen outside with his eyes closed.
In some ways, I felt guilty. There were darker parts of the Cosa Nostra too, where women and men both would be sold as sex-slaves, and prostitution would end up playing a heavy hand in whether they got the chance to live or not. It felt wrong to fuss over this, when so many other people were suffering without any helping hand to yank them out of evil peoples' grasps.
Would it really be that bad, marrying him?
Aurora's head flops on my lap, and immediately my fingers go into her dark-brown strands, mussing them up. It's been a habit since I was a kid, and probably the one time I can be alone with my thoughts with a peaceful, nice distraction to keep me grounded. More so, to not let me get too far.
Aside from all the dark shit Nikolas had going on, I'm not quite sure he would even be considered the enemy once this alliance was formed. Hell, the marriage was being done for that exact reason. The Russian's had paid there price, and well.. I was paying on behalf of the Cosa Nostra.
To me, though, the Russians would still be the enemy. They always have been. Images of a certain slick-back haired man in a suit and tie fill my mouth with a bad taste. Don't think about him.
Instead, I looked down at my sister. She was asleep, curled up on my bed with the moonlight hitting her at all the right angles. Her upturned nose, given by mamma, was dusted the tiniest bit with freckles, while her skin was olive-tan like me. Sometimes, I itch to be like her. Sixteen and young, innocence-driven while the rest of the world burns into flames created by men driven by wrath, dripping in blood. She was perfect. In every way, in every form. She simply had no worries, and I didn't want her to have any. Some might call me over-protective, but so were Leo and Enzo. There wasn't any harm in trying to shade away the horrors of the world from her. She was young, and honestly, I had faith that she'd be fine figuring it out on her own. Just not now.
A thumping from between the silence draws my attention, eyes pulling towards the giant window. I rolled my eyes, realizing it was Leo, sweating his ass off playing basketball in the courtyard.
Enzo was definitely on his way to becoming a mummy encapsulated in that study of his. He was three years older than me, but once more, the standards of this society forced him to enter the blood-edged workforce far more deeper than women were expected to be.
I'm not even supposed to be on the brink, but Enzo's aware of how I am. How curiosity is the one thing that fuels me most, even when the 'something' is better off not knowing.
I tuck Aurora under the duvet and climb inside myself, shivering when the cold sheets lick my skin with shock, and then ease into warmth. I glance at her turned-away body, saying a quick prayer I wouldn't make any extra noise tonight.
The shadows sprawled into the ceiling called my name, growing into faded black, and everything swirled into one.
My eyes closed, sleep took me away, and then it all came rushing back.
Headlights. Glass. Screams. Black eyes. Blood.
So much blood.
━━━━━━━━━━ ༺♡༻ ━━━━━━━━━━
nikolas bc he thinks she's gonna agree to the marriage the second she's told 🤡🤡
she's a rebellious gal that one
but we love it
SEEE YAAA