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๐‚๐‡๐€๐๐“๐„๐‘ โ€ข 12 || โ๐•๐ฎ๐ฅ๐ง๐ž๐ซ๐š๐›๐ข๐ฅ๐ข๐ญ๐ฒโž

>๐„๐ƒ๐ˆ๐“๐„๐ƒ

ยท ยทโ€ขโ—ฆโ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€ยทโœงยทโ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ—ฆโ€ขยท ยท

๐Š ๐‘ ๐ˆ ๐’ ๐“ ๐ˆ ๐€ ๐ โ€ข ๐ ๐„ ๐“ ๐‘ ๐Ž ๐•

Before Erik could utter a word to Mila, I was already in the room with my arms folded against my chest. Erik's eyes met mine and he knew full well he shouldn't be alone with a mobster's fiancรฉe, that is tradition after all.

"Erik, if you could excuse us, I need a moment with Mila." I growl putting my authoritative tone across. Erik hasn't been working for me long, he's a great soldier, but there are only a few men I'd trust alone with Mila and Erik wasn't one of them.

Erik begins to walk away but Mila gives me a dirty look and begins to run after him but that's before I grab her wrist and stop her. She glares at me, eyes full of fire. She forces my hand off her and pushes me. "Don't touch me." She grits through her teeth.

I get closer to her and lean down by her neck, inhaling the familiar scents of mandarin and vanilla. "In case you've forgotten, you're my soon to be wife and as far as anyone is concerned, I touch you how I'd like." She doesn't like that; she looks at me like she wants to slap the grin right off my face. But she decides against it.

She walks past me and picks up her water bottle before walking away from me completely, exiting out of the gym without finishing her workout. I decide to go after her, even with her anger against me. "Mila, wait." I demand, expecting her to listen. But she doesn't.

"Mila!" I shout in demand, forcing her to stop in her tracks. She turns quickly and looks at me, making her ponytail flip behind her.

"What do you want Kristian? You're getting everything you want, a marriage, a soon-to-be wife, what else do you want from me?" She looks at me with annoyance.

"I want you to act like one, you're avoiding me. That's not very wife like." Shock wipes over her eyes and her face drains in colour.

She comes closer to me and talks to me quietly, "In case you've forgotten Kristian not every wife actually likes their husbands let alone love, I'll never like or love you Kristian, let alone pretend for you. Now, leave me the fuck alone."

ยท ยทโ€ขโ—ฆโ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€ยทโœงยทโ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ”€โ—ฆโ€ขยท ยท

I did what Mila asked. I left her alone. To the point I found myself on my private plane on my way to Ireland, maybe I would've taken Mila with me, but with her attitude she's sure to fly off the plane. Her hatred for me is so pure at the moment. I know the real reason why Mila agreed to the fake marriage, if it wasn't to figure out her course work, I wouldn't know what else it would be.

I'm aware with the stash full of papers and folders under her bed, I've just refused to go digging through them, even though it is my house. It's more fun to let her believe I'm unaware of her little game. I'm slightly aware of why she's here, well, I have a feeling why, but I can't be a hundred percent sure.

I stare out of the window and find myself getting closer and closer to land, it's dark out here, not a star or could in sight. And for that I'm thankful. I quickly send a fire message to Dimitry asking if he could keep an eye on Mila while I'm gone, I didn't tell her was leaving, it was pointless. I would speak to Elias but I'm aware of his current mission finding Mila's attacker.

I land a few moments later and stare at Cian who is stood opposite me with a large grin smeared across his face.

"Kristian!" He greets.

"You know I've been thinking, he pulls me in with his hand on my shoulder. I think we should go clubbing, no? No women, just drinks. You need to get done ideas for Wilder anyway don't you?" Cian wasn't wrong, Wilder wasn't going down in business, but it would be nice to get a few more ideas out there, who knows? Cian's club might be selling some new alcohol that's popular and I have no idea that exists.

๐Œ ๐ˆ ๐‹ ๐€ โ€ข ๐Ž ๐‘ ๐‹ ๐Ž ๐•

I've walked around the mansion a handful of times now and I haven't seen Kristian. Maybe I shouldn't have been so harsh, but if he wasn't on my back all the time everything would be okay. I find Maxim outside with a cigarette between his thin lips, puffing as each toxic breath he takes soon releases into the normal air. I open the sliding door and watch as Maxim's eyes dart to mine, it stinks out here. I try not to cough, but it seems to be a mission.

"Where's Kristian?" I ask, trying not to look as if I care.

"Out." He puffs out some smoke.

"Where?" I ask again, probably looking desperate.

"Ireland." Ireland? What the hell.

"What is he doing there?" I'm asking too many questions right now.

"Look, if Kristian wanted to tell you, he would've." He pushes the lit end of the cigarette down onto the ash tray, leaving the cigarette bud to crumble together and the glow disappears.

I decide to walk away from Maxim, for some reason I'm annoyed with both Kristian and Maxim. Kristian for not being honest and Maxim for doing his job I suppose.

The further I walk the more annoyed I become, then I realise that the floor has recently been polished as my sock covered feet begin to sway in all directions. I try and control myself but end up slipping and finding the same guy from the other day stand in front of me. With his greying hair and a surprised smile on his face.

"Mila, it's been so long." He looks at me with a face full of sympathy.

"Who are you?" I enquire, feeling suddenly stupid.

"Erik Ivano." He releases a smile and suddenly the world begins to spin, my mind can barely keep up with the pounding thoughts slamming in my mind.

Everything suddenly made sense, that's why he looked so familiar, he knew my father, he worked with my father. "I can't believe it..." I find myself gasping for air, I haven't seen Erik since my father was murdered. He ran, just like the rest of my father's friends.

"They killed him Erik..." I mutter, feeling the water rise in my eyes, causing my vision to blur and my nose to bundle.

"Oh Mila." He sighs, before continuing. "Your father was a very bad man." I look at him with shock and despair. Erik never had a bad word to say about my father. So why is he choosing now, that he isn't around to let his tongue run toxic words.

"You don't mean that." I stare at him with a slight feeling of hatred inside, but I settle my mood down and look at him, his eyes filled with no sympathy, but now empathy.

"Your father wanted to keep that part of the world hidden for you, he owed Kristian's father a lot of money to the point he would even sell you, he led his own Russian mob." My heart twitches in between my ribs. He can't mean that, surely.

"He didn't though." I mutter, trying to stick up for my father and his actions.

"No, but only because I had something to say about it Mila. Your father didn't like it, I couldn't protect you anymore. So, I had to leave. I had nowhere to go until the Petrov's offered me safety here in the Bratva, my son and I needed the security and the roof over our heads." I couldn't believe the words that I was hearing, my father would've given me up to save himself being in debt.

My nails dug into my palms, already creating moon crescents at the surface of my skin, the emotions bubble inside of my body, wanting to be exposed, but I don't allow it. I attempt to swallow all the negative emotions I never show, the emotions I wouldn't allow myself to show. But my mind is wandering too much now, the kidnapping. Was that my father's doing too?

"Mila, talk to me." He attempts to come closer and lift a palm on my shoulder, but I shake it off and pace myself away. Looking at Erik reminded me too much of my father. The jobs he was doing and left me in the house alone, the bags of money he'd come back home with, alcohol in the cupboards that he'd pour into a glass to celebrate. Looking back, I never was a priority to my father. When did I become so blind?

I find myself in the guest bedroom, I kneel to the carpet and pull out the boxes of folders I've kept hidden, I rip them to shreds, disposing of the pictures of my father, his meetings he would've had with Damien Petrov. Every single piece of evidence of his existence was demolished, yet my mind was still stuck with his memory. His smile, his laugh, his stare. His false love. I leave the papers to crumble at my touch, and then I allow myself to feel. The water drops slowly fall from my eye and travel down my cheek, there was no holding back, I was alone and safe. I was crying.

I pull my knees to my chest and rest my eye sockets against my knee caps, trying to force myself to stop crying. But the tears just keep coming, I seem to make the situation worse. I don't know how long I'm there for, but my surroundings are now dark, the only light in the room was from the moon and the stars surrounding it.

Suddenly a warm embrace smothers my back and my shoulder blades, I feel the need to push them away, whoever it is. But I can't, I don't have the energy to fight them off. I'm no longer crying, but whimpering. "Come on malen'kaya lisa." [Small fox]

My body doesn't co-operate. So, a pair of muscular arms picks me up, one around my shoulders and the other between my legs, hooking me up and holding me close.

They walk over to my bed and place me down slowly; I look up to find Kristian staring at me. The tug in my mind pushes to the defensive part of my brain. He's seen me vulnerable. But still, I don't move, I don't smile, I just look away. He tucks the duvet up to my shoulders and the end of the bed soon dips, I don't need to stare down to know that Kristian is sitting at the end of my bed, watching me, and smoothing the inside of my wrist.

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