Arranged Bratva Love

Aurora

There had to be some kind of survival in never seeing your husband. There had to be. The days turned into weeks, then months, and it wasn’t long before I’d been married for a grand total of three months and four days. Yay. I was still alive.

Still alive.

Still ignored.

But it was moments like now that I actually lived for.

On rare occasions, Slavik would demand my presence at parties, social gatherings, and the necessary dinner at a restaurant.

The latter was always the hardest. They tended to be the two of us. He’d look the part but spend the entire time either talking on his cell phone or to a guard. I’d sit and have to listen to his tones of Russian.

I’d thought about starting to learn, but so far, I hadn’t pushed my luck. Now these occasions, where we sat for dinner with a group of people, I could get through them. Slavik sat beside me, ordered my dinner, and complimented me. Played the role, saying all the right things. For a short time, I could pretend this was normal.

At least at this dinner party, there were other women. Three of whom I sat close to. They were talking about their latest designer gowns. I had no idea who I wore but they seemed to.

I nodded and smiled, laughed at the right points, and even told a few jokes. Sofia, Irina, and Amanda were all beautiful women. They were destined to be married to three of the other brigadiers under Ivan Volkov’s rule. I wasn’t sure who they were going to marry, but by the rocks on their fingers, it was a pretty big deal.

“You know, I was thinking we could all do lunch,” I said.

In the last four months, other than being with Slavik, I spent most of my time indoors, unless he ordered me to shop.

It would be nice to make some friends in his world.

No one called me from mine. No distant friends or cousins. Even my sister didn’t have time for me.

I smiled as the women agreed.

Feeling the need to use the bathroom, I excused myself, feeling happier than I had in a long time. This dinner could be the turning point, where I finally found some people. The bathroom was divided into two sections. One was lit, and the other was in darkness. For some odd reason, I decided to go to the opposite side, shrouded in darkness. I used the toilet, flushed, and was washing my hands when I heard the giggling.

“Can you believe her?”

I recognized Amanda’s voice. I stepped back into the toilet stall. Who were they talking about?

“My face hurts from smiling so much,” Sofia said.

“Tell me about it. If Slavik wasn’t here, I would have been able to ignore her. Do you know what they call her?” Irina asked.

“No, what?” Sofia and Amanda asked.

“The fat Italian. Honestly. People feel sorry for Slavik. I don’t know how he puts up with her. He could do so much better. I know my dad tried to get me thrown at him, but Volkov decided the Fredo girl was more important.” The jealousy in Irina’s voice was clear to hear.

So, where I thought I’d made a connection with these women, it was all an act.

“Did you see the dress?” Amanda asked. “She looked like a cow. All Slavik has to do is say the word, and I’d do anything for him. I heard on her wedding night, Slavik had to cut himself because he couldn’t find her pussy through the layers of fat.”

It went on and on. Between them using the bathroom, washing their hands, and applying makeup, they continued to insult me. Once they left, I stepped out of the stall. It wasn’t the first time this had happened.

I stared at my reflection. My hair had been curled by the male hairstylist Slavik had hired. He’d wanted to cut my hair, but I refused, and so he curled it.

Tonight … I thought I looked pretty. I guessed I was wrong.

Tears shimmered in my eyes as I looked at my reflection, and my smile wobbled. “What did you expect?” I took a deep breath, calming down my nerves, and finally, the tears faded.

Time to go and play a role.

I stepped out of the bathroom and took my seat back at the table. My hand shook as I reached for the glass of water.

Amanda, Sofia, and Irina were back at the table, and I kept my gaze forward.

Slavik’s hand brushed mine. I turned toward him as I jerked my hand away from him. My entire body shook.

“What’s the matter?” he asked.

“Nothing. I’m fine.”

He didn’t need to know that another hope and dream had just been dashed. My pity party was my own.

My heart raced and I sat back. I ignored the women at my side and stared across the table. Ivan stared right back at me. I didn’t know what to do, and so I looked down at where a slice of chocolate cake waited for me.

It looked delicious with the dark frosting and the moist cake, but I felt sick.

“I ordered dessert for you,” Slavik said.

“Thank you, but I’m not hungry.” I sipped at my water.

“I don’t suppose you’ve got some news to tell me?” Ivan asked, silencing the table as he talked.

When he spoke, everyone else shut up.

Heat filled my body, and I made sure not to look at Ivan.

“No news.”

“So no little babies coming our way? The next generation of good strong men?” he asked.

Babies. We’d have to be having sex to have babies, and that wasn’t happening.

“No babies,” Slavik said.

“Aw, Slavik, you break this poor man’s heart. I want to see more children.”

This entire conversation was getting to me.

“May I go home?” I asked.

As I asked, I knew it was incredibly rude of me, but I needed to get away from here. I had to have a break and leave. The thought of staying here, well, I needed distance from the women, from Slavik, from duty.

Gazes turned from me to Ivan, and he nodded. “Of course, my dear.”

Slavik clicked his fingers, signaling Sergei, but Ivan tutted. “No, your wife is clearly feeling unwell. We’ll talk another time. Go with her.”

Ivan’s word was law.

So, together, we stood. I made my escape toward the exit. Sergei already had my coat, which I took, grateful.NôvelDrama.Org © 2024.

Slavik came back and held out a small white card.

“Amanda said you needed to organize a lunch together.”

I stared at the card for several seconds before I reached out to grab it. Without question, I tore it up and threw it in the trash. I wasn’t going to make friends with people who talked behind my back like that. All my life I’d been alone, and I could continue to be so.

Wrapping my arms around my body, I stood outside, waiting for the car. Slavik stood beside me. He was so much taller than me. Muscular as well. From the glimpse I’d gotten of him on my wedding night, I knew he was heavily inked, and he clearly worked out a lot.

I gritted my teeth as the car came into view. Sliding into the back seat, I tried to hug myself against the door, but I couldn’t get close enough. Slavik was too close.

He pressed a button that raised the partition, separating us from the driver. We now had privacy.

“Do you want to tell me what is going on?” he asked.

“Nothing is going on. I didn’t need you to take me home. I was happy going with Sergei.” I sank my nails into my palm as I stared out the window.

Slavik wrapped his fingers around my wrist and tugged me close. “I don’t like being ignored.”

“You’re hurting me.”

“And you’re starting to piss me off.”

Tears filled my eyes. He could so easily break my wrist. I stayed perfectly still.

“I just … I wanted to leave.”

“You think I didn’t see a difference after you’d gone to use the bathroom? What was said? They went after you but came out first? Are you hiding a pregnancy from me? Tell me.”

He spat out all these questions, and I struggled to keep up. I was terrified, scared.

“What? No. I’m not pregnant. And … I don’t want to have anything to do with the other women.” I didn’t want to tell him the reason why, but when he insisted, I had no choice but to tell him what I heard. I told him every single word.

Afterward, silence fell between us, and I realized he’d released my wrist. I pulled away from him, holding my wrist against me, protecting myself against him. He … frightened me. There was no other word for it, and now he heard my shame.

“You will never be left alone with those women,” he said.

Not like I hadn’t already planned to ignore them. I wouldn’t invite myself to any of their parties, nor would I have anything more to do with them.

I’d wanted friends. Who didn’t? But there was no way I was going to impose my presence on people who didn’t want me.

My lip wobbled.

I hated this feeling. Gritting my teeth, I tried to ignore the pain. The loneliness. The desperate question of why people didn’t like me. It wasn’t like I did anything to incite it. At least I didn’t think I did. I guessed I was just one of those people others couldn’t stand.

“Are you sure you’re not pregnant?”

“I’ve been having my period,” I said. “It takes sex to have babies.”

I hoped he didn’t think that was an invitation.

We arrived back at his apartment building. From what Sergei had told me, Slavik owned this place, and several more. They were his personal investments. It was why if I chose, I could have the indoor swimming pool to myself, along with the gym.

Thinking about the cake tonight, those horrible words the women threw at me, I finally made a decision.

I took a deep breath and climbed out of the car, not waiting for either man to open my door.

Whenever something like this happened, solitude helped me to deal. Keeping the tears at bay was proving to be difficult. A burn settled at the back of my throat.

Staring at my reflection in the metal elevator doors, I had to wonder, was it me? Did I make people hate me? Was being nice a crime? A weakness? Why did people go out of their way to despise me? To hurt me? Or better yet, to avoid me?

I rubbed at my chest where a stabbing pain struck hard.

Stepping into the elevator, Slavik put his hand at the base of my back, but I didn’t feel it.

“Do you ever care what people think of you?” I asked.

“No.”

I smiled. It didn’t exactly reach my eyes. Simple. Direct. To the point. I liked it.

“Do you?”

“I know I shouldn’t, but it’s kind of hard not to when everyone around you seems determined to hate you.”

The bell dinged, and the doors opened.

We stepped out.

Slavik keyed in the code to our apartment.

When we arrived, I often kept my distance, steering well clear of him out of fear of capturing his attention. Today, I wanted to be alone.

I removed my shoes, placed them in the right place, and without another look back, I went to the bathroom.

Door closed and locked, I stared at my reflection in the mirror and allowed the spiteful words to wash over me.

They were not the first.

“The fat Italian. Honestly. People feel sorry for Slavik. I don’t know how he puts up with her. He could do so much better. I know my dad tried to get me thrown at him, but Volkov decided the Fredo girl was more important.”

“She looked like a cow. All Slavik has to do is say the word and I’d do anything for him. I heard on her wedding night, Slavik had to cut himself because he couldn’t find her pussy through the layers of fat.”

“You’re a disappointment.”

“The ugly one.”

“The fat one.”

“What can we do to avoid being near her? No one likes her, no one wants to be around her.”

I pressed my palms against my eyes as the tears fell, thick and fast. Each one that dropped added to my mortification. I was not liked. I was not loved. My own family didn’t care who they sold me to.

“Aurora, open the door.”

“I’m in the shower.”

“I don’t hear it running. Open the door or I knock it down. Two choices.”

I splashed my face with water, wiping off the makeup I’d chosen to wear.

“Aurora!”

I opened the door and stepped back. Turning the shower on, I reached for the clasp at the side of my dress and eased it down.

Slavik was in the bathroom, and any other time, I’d have been afraid. There was no fear right now. Just pain and anger. Humiliation.

I hated this feeling.

“What is going on with you?” he asked.

I ignored him.

Was I sporting a death wish?

No one ignored Slavik Ivanov. His reputation for destruction preceded him. Women talked about him with a combination of awe and fear.

With the dress on the floor, I flicked the catch of my bra, followed by my panties, then stepped beneath the spray of the water. I let out a cry as the cold water washed over my body, shocking me to the core.

In the back of my mind, I cursed myself, telling myself that I shouldn’t be doing this. Slavik had asked a question, and the least I could do was answer.

Silence.

Gritting my teeth, I closed my eyes and tilted my head back.

I’m fine.

I’m fine.

I’m fine.

The mantra went on and on inside my head. I didn’t have much choice. When I was a kid, I had to learn to live with it. My father had hit me for showing weakness. Tears were pathetic and shouldn’t be seen on a Fredo’s face.

I released a gasp as strong arms grabbed my shoulders and turned me around to face him. Slavik was naked as well, which surprised me. I expected him to leave.

Why hadn’t he left?

“Tell me what the hell is going on.”

“Nothing! Nothing is going on. Don’t you get that? I’m taking a shower.”

“I know you’re lying to me.”

Be the lady. Don’t give in.

Old advice and demands rushed forward. The rules of the obedient woman consumed me, making me feel sick.

“You really want to know?” I asked. I didn’t give him chance to answer. “I am sick and tired of being treated like I don’t care. Like I don’t matter. I tried to make friends and like always, I got shit on. What is it about me, huh? Do I just have unlikeable written across my forehead? Do people just enjoy kicking me while I’m down? The only reason they were nice to me tonight was because of you.” I took in a deep breath, realizing my mistake and wishing I could take it back.

This wasn’t what I wanted. I stepped beneath the spray, waiting for the hit, the punishment. It was destined to come. My mother, when she talked back to my father, always ended up bruised. One time, I had lain in bed, terrified as I heard them. The yells, followed by the screams, the cries, the begs. The following day, I hadn’t been allowed to see my mother.

For three weeks she stayed in her room, and when she came out, she sported a broken arm, split lip, and bruised face. That was what we could see.

My mother had taken me and Isabella aside not long after and said we must do whatever we could to not fall into the trap of inciting our husband’s wrath.

This was a code I tried to live by.

No blow came.

I wasn’t even worth it.

Instead, Slavik left the shower, leaving me to feel far emptier than I ever thought was possible.