Chapter 8 Gavril

• The tension between my shoulder blades started to ease, and I helped her rise to her feet for the next part of the ceremony. I wasn’t going to be an asshole, well, not completely. After all, I had to show the Krasnaya Bratva that Sveta would be treated respectfully as my wife. She would be the wife of the most powerful man in LA and would be expected to act accordingly.
• I wouldn’t be able to keep her hidden all the time, as I would have to show her off occasionally for their sake, and something told me that Sveta was going to thrive under my tutelage.
• She would be the consummate hostess.
• We moved on to the vows, which Sveta repeated in halting Russian, stumbling over a few of the words toward the end. Up close, I could hear the emotion in her voice, waiting for the moment that she would start to back out of the wedding and I would be forced to make her comply.
• Sveta didn’t, however, and with each portion of the ceremony, my tension eased even more. We were almost there. She was almost my wife.
• “The rings,” the priest finally said, pulling out the rings I had given him earlier. “Gavril Kirilenko, repeat after me.”
• I took the ring from the priest, my thumb rubbing over the intricate scroll stamped into the gold. It was an unusual ring, with an unusual background, but I wasn’t going to share that with Sveta now.
• “Sveta,” I started, holding the ring poised over her finger. “Receive this ring as a sign of my love and fidelity.”
• I pushed the ring onto her finger and pressed my lips to her hand, my eyes catching hers from behind her veil. They were wide and full of terror, which only had my cock responding in ways that I hadn’t felt in a long time. Let her be frightened of me. Let her be terrified. I thrived on fucking fear.
• The priest cleared his throat, and I dropped her hand so that she could take the ring, her fingers brushing over my hand to take it in hers. Was she curious as to why I would choose a wedding ring? Many men in my position did not wear one, but I wanted everyone to know that I had gone through with my plans and wed my enemy’s daughter.
• It was a symbol of the white surrender flag for Stanislav’s men, knowing that I now owned them all and nothing more than that.
• “Gavril,” she started, holding the ring poised over my finger now. “Receive this ring as a sign of my love and fidelity.”
• Fuck. I loved her saying my name like that, all throaty and lust filled though I knew it was my own wishful thinking.
• No matter. In time her voice would be lust filled as she begged for my cock.
• Sveta didn’t kiss my hand like I did hers and let it fall to my side before turning her attention back to the priest, as if she were waiting for the next step.
• But that was it, the last step to making us man and wife in the eyes of God and the church.
• Without waiting for the priest to declare us, I slid my hand behind Sveta’s neck and yanked up her veil, exposing her face for the first time since she walked down the aisle. Fuck, she was gorgeous. I had forgotten how beautiful she was, and my cock strained against my trousers. The next few hours were going to be torturous, but they were necessary.
• I crushed my lips against hers, feeling her start of surprise as my tongue plundered her mouth, making the final mark on her. I pulled her close to let her have a taste of what awaited her later.
• She wore my ring, had my last name, and now she would be mine in everything tonight.
• I couldn’t wait.
• When I tore my mouth from hers, Sveta looked slightly dazed, her lips red from my bruising kiss. Extending my arm, I waited for her to take it before turning us both to the waiting crowd. Reluctantly the applause came, and I grinned, knowing that their applause was more because I would demand it than them being happy for me.
• Sveta stood next to me and said nothing, her hand clutching my arm, and I wanted to shout to the heavens that my plan had finally come to fruition. “Come, wife,” I said softly. “We have a party to go to.”
• I led Sveta down the aisle and to the waiting car, allowing her to slide in first before I joined her. Anatoly followed close behind, sliding into the passenger seat, and we were off, back toward the mansion where we would receive our guests for a dinner that would likely rival any sort of royal dinner if Vera had anything to do with it.
• A flash of gold caught my eye, and my grin grew as I looked at the gold ring on my finger. Sveta was my wife. I could do anything to her, and no one would stop me.
• No one could stop me. “Tell me,” I finally said, dropping my hand and resting it on my knee instead. “Did you enjoy the ceremony?”
• “Does it matter if I did?” she countered, her hands tightly clasped in her lap.
• “Of course it does,” I said lightly as anger flitted through my veins. I could have fucking married her in my bedroom before I fucked her hard, yet I had taken the steps that were necessary to ensure that this marriage was a real one. She should be grateful for what I had done.
• “Then I did,” she said flatly, her gaze focused on the passenger window and not on me. If it weren’t for the way she was clasping her hands tightly, I would have thought she was just trying to please me.
• Instead, she was pissed off at me, and that piqued my interest greatly. I wanted to test the waters even more, but there were other pressing matters. So, I left the matter alone. There would be plenty of time later at the mansion.
• I took her arm and forced her to look at me.
• “You will play the happy bride,” I reminded her, my fingers digging into her upper arm. “You will laugh and remain gracious that I have taken you as my bride.”
• Her gaze narrowed, and I half waited for her to snap back at me. When the fire died, I felt strangely disappointed that she was backing down just as quickly.
• “Yes, husband,” she said tightly. “I will not embarrass you.”
• I wanted a fight from her, and she had refused it. I let go of her arm and opened the door, finding Anatoly already waiting outside to escort us to the terrace where the reception would be held.
• “Already having fun, I see,” he murmured for only me to hear.
• I buttoned my coat, ignoring him, and reached in to help Sveta out. After ensuring that her dress was straight, I led her to the terrace, where our guests had already arrived. Vera stood off to the side as we entered, the soft strains of the small quartet orchestra playing in the background. I didn’t know what Sveta thought about the long table set up, the soft glow of the candles matching the romantic backdrop of the LA hills. The smell of roses was heavy in the air, intermingled with the smell of fish and filet mignon that would be served with dinner.
• But first I wanted to dance with my new bride.
• The moment we reached the dance floor, I spun Sveta around, pressing her against me until she could feel my raging erection in her stomach. “Dance with me, wife,” I murmured, clasping her hand in mine.
• Sveta stiffened in my arms, but she swayed with me, her hand resting on my shoulder. It was hard to ignore how well she fit against my body, how her head brushed my chin as I expertly turned her around on the dance floor. I might have been a bastard, but I hadn’t grown up without the finer points in life, including the proper way to dance.
• “Smile,” I reminded her, my lips grazing the outer shell of her ear. Her smell was intoxicating, and I wanted to devour her right where we stood.
• She shivered in my arms, and I grinned against her skin. Everything was going to plan. I couldn’t imagine that things would go so well or that Sveta would now become complacent with the fact that she was my wife and after tonight, I would own everything that was her.
• The song ended and I stepped back, lifting her hand to press a kiss to the back of it and look like the doting husband I was planning to be in the eyes of her father’s former army. “For you, my dear,” I murmured.
• Sveta’s gaze locked onto mine and I saw the concern in her depths, but there was something else, something I couldn’t quite put my finger on. She was going to be less of the doting wife and more of an enigma for me, someone that I wanted to break gently so that she would understand that I ruled this marriage, not her.
• I escorted her off the dance floor, only to find several of the Krasnaya Bratva brigadiers waiting in the wings. Instinctively I pulled her close to my side, wrapping my arm around her waist. “Have you come to wish us well in our marriage?”
• The oldest one, Konstantin Poroshenko, stepped forward, and dipped his head. “We have, Pakhan. As you are already aware, we have no means of fighting your forces now that our leader is gone and we are directionless.”I fought to show my satisfaction at the news. That was what I had been anticipating, that the Krasnaya Bratva would come crawling to me with their tails stuck between their legs, looking for someone to rescue them.
• “And we have come to pay our respects to the daughter of our former Pakhan,” he continued, his eyes on my wife. “Please accept our deepest apologies. We failed to protect your father.”
• Sveta regarded him with interest before she also inclined her head, choosing not to speak directly. That pleased me. “My wife accepts your apologies and your allegiance,” I answered for her, tightening my grip on her waist. “And I welcome you into the fold of my Bratva. I see a great partnership between the Krasnaya and Belaya in the future. We must stick together to ensure that generations after us have a rightful place in LA.”
• The murmuring caused me to smile, but I moved past them, escorting Sveta to the table that had been set up for us. Vera hovered over us as we sat down, barking out orders to fill our wineglasses and providing my favorite vodka as well. I stood, picking up my glass, and the guests fell silent. “Thank you for coming to our special day,” I said smoothly, lifting my glass in the air. “I consider all of you valued members of our family and hope that you will accept my wife into your arms as well.”
• The chorus of agreements filled my ears, but I turned my gaze to Sveta, who was holding her glass as well. “And to you,” I said, low enough for no one else to hear. “I hope you realize that this union is the culmination of my planning, of tireless work to provide you with security for the future.”
• Her eyes searched mine, a spark of intelligence showing in their depths before she snuffed it out. “And what of happiness?” she asked softly.
• Bending down, I brushed her lips over mine. “Happiness comes with obedience, dear Sveta,” I whispered against her lips. “And as long as you are obedient to me, devoted only to me, you will have everything you could possibly want in life.”
• I wouldn’t expect anything else from her other than planting a child in her womb and giving me the key to my future. Once that was accomplished, well, there wasn’t much else I would need her for.
• A rousing cheer of “GORKA!” rose up from the crowd. The traditional wedding toast. Gorka, I thought. Bitterness. For vodka is bitter, and marriage is sweet. But the only sweetness I wanted on my tongue was what was between Sveta’s legs.
• Straightening, I drained my vodka in one gulp and sat myself beside my bride. There was a load off my shoulders at what I had accomplished tonight and what part of my plan was now accomplished.
• I was going to enjoy the next part, which would be to get Sveta pregnant as soon as possible. There was still the threat that she could be taken away.
• But if she was carrying my child, then it would be nearly impossible to deny that I had a right to take over what was her birthright.
• A smirk crossed my face as I picked up the vodka bottle and poured a measure full in the glass that sat by my plate. It was time to celebrate, time to toast what I had completed when others said that I couldn’t.
• I had done this, not anyone else.