𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 • 17 || ❝𝐆𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬❞

>𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐃

𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 (𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞)

· ·•◦───────·✧·──────◦•· ·

𝐊 𝐑 𝐈 𝐒 𝐓 𝐈 𝐀 𝐍 • 𝐏 𝐄 𝐓 𝐑 𝐎 𝐕

I look up and down at myself in the mirror, unable to stop myself from thinking of yesterday. Mila's soft plump lips against mine, overlapping her tongue with mine. I was almost looking forward to the kiss again soon. I fix my bow tie and stare at the emerald green handkerchief poking out of my top pocket. I sigh and take in my surrounds, staring out of the window.

We're not far from the church which makes me trust Mila more if she doesn't run away, this might be part of her plan, maybe she plans to run away and leave me there at the altar.

I tidy myself up, keep myself busy and walk towards the church with both Jace and Leonid by my side. "How you feeling?" Jace asks. I nod in response, "Good."

The closer we get to the altar the more I see, the decorations chosen by Mila and organised by Polina. I watch as the priest forces out a smile while eyeing up my gun at the side of my waist. Poor fucker probably thinks he'll get shot if he doesn't marry Mila off to me. This is his job though; he's used to marrying off women to nefarious men.

I stand next to the priest, watching as the sweat beads drip from his forehead onto the holy floor. I wait.

Suddenly, the doors at the other end of the alter open, the Bratva and other guests are crowded and have taken their seats, I spot Cian with a huge grin on his face. There I notice Elias walk in behind Mila; I stare closer at Mila taking in her appearance.

The dress she chose was beautiful and fixated on her body in the most perfect way possible, her curves on show, her breasts hiding away behind the fabric but not leaving much to the imagination. I find myself sighing, taking in the beauty. I never stared much at Mila, maybe it was the slap in the face I would've probably received that stopped me, but after our kiss yesterday. I see her.

Once I have her in my arms I watch as the goosebumps travel across her chest to her arms, her hands are in mine and her eyes are struck on me. It doesn't take me long to release a smile.

The priest speaks for a while, repeating the same words he does as his job, handing away this woman to the head of the Bratva.

"I do." The words fall from my mouth too quickly, like I'm in the hurry of missing out on something. I still have Mila's hands in mine, and now her palms are getting clammy, I'm unsure whether it was the heat in the room with all these warm bodies or whether she was nervous. I'd ask, but she'd say the first option. "I do." She looks at me with a smile on her face, revealing her pearly teeth that complements the beautiful tone of rose on her lips. I don't hesitate to kiss her, I hold her by the chin and pull her close, placing my lips on top of hers and dominating over her. A round of applause erupts through the church, revealing the happiness spread among us.

We stand side by side for everyone to see, when a familiar scent hits my nostrils. Before I turn to Mila it's too late, the tear gas spreads and shots are fired, smashing the beautiful coloured panes on the window. "Get down!" I explain and whip out my gun.

The men who come in are wearing face coverings, I can't recognise them, but no doubt it's those who planned the shooting at the boutique. It didn't help that the tear gas was making everything look so cloudy, we could barely see a thing.

Mila gets down under a chair followed by Elias who is right behind her. Leonid is already approaching the shooters and taking his knifes from his tuxedo.

The Irish are helping us, shooting back while other mobs have fled not wanting to get into the crossfire.

𝐌 𝐈 𝐋 𝐀 • 𝐎 𝐑 𝐋 𝐎 𝐕

My legs are gyrating against the cobbled floor, scraping, and scratching at any nude skin it came in contact with. I have no idea where Elias is, I try and look around, but my vision is blurry and dotted.

I groan and try and wipe the hair out of my face, but I can't. My hands are tied up and being pulled by someone. A van door suddenly jitters open and I'm thrown inside, the van begins to sway with movement with me inside. My arms are tied behind my back, I sit up and blow the hair out of my face while inhaling cigar smoke.

Looking up I'm in shock, I don't know whether to cry, scream or be angry. The memories of my father storm into my mind, I attempt to force him out, but seeing him face to face again brings back all kinds of emotions. Sadness, anger... betrayal.

I don't shy away, but manage to speak through gritted teeth, "You're supposed to be dead." He looks at me with shock, there isn't an ounce of pain laced in his face, nothing but amusement.

"Well, that isn't a great way to greet your father, is it?" He is sat in front of me, elbows against his knees. He's staring into me, staring right through my eyes.

"It's a perfect way considering you left me, you betrayed me!" I exclaim. He growls and gets into my face.

"Be quiet, I did what I had to do. Don't take that tone with me." I scoff.

"Don't speak to me like you're my dad, you're nothing to me anymore." I growl. I look away and try and look through the window but can't make out any objects, the windows aren't just tinted on the outside, but inside too. Suddenly, a sharp impact warms up the cheek of my face, causing stinging pains to erupt on the surface.

He hit me.

My father now that I know him was a cruel man, but not once did he ever lay a hand on me. I don't wince, I don't even jolt at the impact. I take in the pain and stare at him, witnessing the evilness through his dark pupils.

A few moments later and the silence was still full to the brim. "Where do you plan to take me?" I look at him, he has a smirk on his face.

"I wouldn't want to give that away, would I?" After that a cloth is put over my face, I inhale the toxic without wanting to, I attempt to fight back, headbutt him...But I fail and sleep soon consumes me.

· ·•◦───────·✧·──────◦•· ·

My head is pounding with pain, I flicker my eyes open and attempt to get rid of the blurriness. I stare around and find myself in a chair, my arms are strapped at the sides of the chairs and my legs are loosely tied up.

I clear my throat, trying to get rid of the bitter taste that has settled down on my tongue. Glancing around I can see my father sat on a chair staring at me with eager eyes, weirdly enough I'm hit with the familiar deja vu. Kristian was in this exact position when I was in the cell. Maybe this is what men in the world like, well, the mafia world anyway. What was I thinking? This was what they were like. Domineering assholes.

My father smiles at me, holding up this phone. "I have a little surprise for you." I want to laugh, surprise? Seeing his face back here was the only shock I needed today.

He begins to talk, "I'd like to speak to Mr Petrov please." He says in a nice tone, and for what?

"Easy now Petrov, no need to get aggressive. I have something you want, but I want something in return." My father rambles on in Russian, covering up his words so I wouldn't understand, the only words I understood was 'now' and 'come on', everything else was a blur.

My father puts the phone away and begins to chuckle, "Wow, your boyfriend is rather possessive." I snigger at the irony, 'boyfriend.'

"Whatever you're planning, keep going. It won't work, Kristian cares for his family, I don't fit that criteria." He stares at me with a questionable look. "After you supposedly died, I wanted revenge so bad, I knew you met with the Petrov's often, so I hacked the system, spied on them for months, and then went to kill Kristian." I chuckle, "Look how that turned out, you're a liar and a shit father and I'm here wasting away." I wasn't entirely wrong, I had nothing going for me anymore, shit family, no friends. The whole reason I came here was for Kristian, my mission expired as soon as they realised who I was. It was a one-way ticket.

"Hm, I wouldn't be so sure about that, don't belittle yourself princess." I scoff. I needed another plan, if I was able to manipulate men around my age, I would be able to manipulate my father.

"Can I use the toilet please?" I ask politely, trying to keep my voice as normal as possible. He sighs.

His hands wrap around my legs and untie the rope around them, finally my legs can breathe and move without having the blood flow being restricted any longer. He guides me to stand up and hobbles me along towards a bathroom. I witness loads of my father's men around the place, holding their posture high and remaining an emotionless expression on their faces.

I look around for some idea, I stare and find a young teenager with a gun in their holster, not far from the bathroom. I purposely trip, attempting to catch myself but land on the teenage boy in front of me who looks as stiff as a lamppost. I swivel my hands and hide myself.

"Can you watch what you're doing?" My father growls, I know he's talking to me, even if he is throwing evil looks at the young boy at my side. I nod and head into the bathroom. I lock the door and take in a deep breath. Roaming around I dip my head into the sink and turn on the tap, allowing the water to flow into my mouth, I gulp every single drop and flush the toilet.

"We haven't got all day Mila." My name rolling off my father's tongue felt strange, I haven't heard his voice in a while, let alone my name leave his lips. I sigh, walking back and forth. I don't answer him, but when he begins to fiddle with the door knob, I know he's getting impatient.

I back up against the wall, waiting for my father to come rolling in. The white door bashes against the bath smashing a hole into the oak, my father stares at me with pure anger. But before he storms up to me, shots are fired.

The ringing in my ear pulsates, sending God knows what kind of information to my mind, I grab onto the side of my head, trying to prevent the pounding from getting any louder. But the thudding doesn't stop, it creeps up further, tugging at the edges of my mind, causing distress and discomfort. My vision becomes blurry, probably due to the lack of food and water I've had since I've got here, it was probably still my wedding day, but I haven't drunk all day, I felt too sick this morning I didn't want to risk puking on my wedding dress.

It also hasn't helped with the blows to my head that I've received from my father. I crouch and hide my head into my arms, attempting not to sob at the ache. My eyes begin to get heavy, each time I close them it takes me awhile to reopen them again. But I'll keep trying. I must stay awake.