Taming His Father’s Wife

4| THE TEST

Lottie

I shouldn’t have started with these drugs so early.

And I probably wouldn’t have. But I got a message from mom this morning from the Parkers. It was a picture, and she wrote a text under it that read: .

I’d tried to call the Parkers more times than one, but they’d not answered any of my calls since I got married yesterday. I almost had a panic attack. Igor had insisted on sharing a room, so I had to pick up my stash and go somewhere else to distract myself.

I was taking this sudden change better than I thought. Maybe it was the drugs, but still. Two nights ago, I was a single hot woman in London, and today I was married to a man I barely knew in Sicily. It was enough to make anyone lose their minds, but apparently not enough for me.

That hot man that just left this lounge had distracted me a bit from all these, but now that his warmth was gone… f**k, I needed to gather my stash. I rushed back and sniffed some of the good stuff off the ground, gathering the rest in my hand. My head was happy now, and that was all that mattered.

I rushed back to the bedroom I shared with Igor, halting a few feet away when I heard the hot man’s voice from the other side of it,

“They may not be able to kill her because of the will and the protection you’ve placed on her, but you know they’d make her life a living hell. They’d at least try.”

“It’s not like you won’t be part of it.”

He chuckled, his laugh still carrying that fake calmness he always seemed to radiate. “Of course I would. I’d be the worst of all.”

I didn’t doubt him one bit. I felt a pang in my chest, knowing mamma had really thrown me to the wolves. These people don’t like me one bit.

“I know you guys hear all that. What? Are you two going to make my life a living hell as well?” I asked the guards in front of Igor’s door. They didn’t say anything in response, just kept mute and stood there.

I continued, “You know, it really sucks to be the unwanted one everywhere. Not that I thought I’d be adored here, come on, I hear about mafia marriages all the time. But I thought… I didn’t think it would be this bad. I mean, at least my parents never considered killing me. Wait. Or did they?”

They still ignored me, still looked ahead like I was not even there at all. I rolled my eyes.

“Whatever. Suit yourself.”

I turned around and headed for the kitchen instead. All this snorting made me hungry.

“Good morning ma’am.” The female chef—Kiki according to the name tag on her chest—greeted. The male chef beside her turned to recite the same thing.

“Lottie. And yes, I insist.” I say, going to stand beside her. The smell of waffles and sauce hit my nostrils. My stomach grumbled despite the fact that I’d had something to eat earlier this morning.

“Uh, okay. Do you want something, Lottie?” She asked kindly.

“Can I have some of that sauce and some rice? Thanks.”

“Coming right up.”

Barely ten minutes later, I had my food on the table and I dug into it. The effects of the drugs had already started to wear out and my chest was thumping for no reason again. My fingers rapped against my thigh as I ate.

Not long into the meal, one of the guards walked in.

“Mr Morozov has sent for you, ma’am.” He told me. My heartbeat plummeted. Surely it wasn’t time to kill me off already?

I nodded. “I’ll be right there.”

He shook his head. “I’m supposed to come with you, ma’am.”

I raised a brow, “Why?”

He shrugged.

I pushed the food aside, mamma’s text ringing in my head. I got up and he led me in front of him, while he followed behind me.

I walked into Igor’s—our room, my fingers still tweaking, even worse when I laid my eyes on the hot man.

He stood across the room with his eyes trained on me, huge and impossibly sexy. He was too large for my small frame, but it all just made him so much more better to look at. He was definitely in his early thirties, but that wasn’t too old for me if I was marrying his dad, I guess.

No idea why I was thinking of him like this.

I swallowed and turned to Igor on his sick bed, surprised to see him looking at me with a new contempt in his eyes.

“Did anyone see you take those drugs besides Viktor?”

My heartbeat raced, and I peered at him—Viktor. He’d ratted me out to his dad, of course.

“What drugs?” I decided I wasn’t going down without a fight. I’d heard that Igor wasn’t in good terms with his sons anyways. Why would he believe anything Viktor said against his wife?

“You would be stupid to lie to me, Rossi.” He said it slowly, like he wanted the words to sink in. Then he continued casually, “Go into the restroom. Take the cup on that table and pee in it. My doctors will get you tested for drug addiction.”

All the air left my lungs. It would really be stupid to keep lying now, so I started to stutter the truth, “I take… I take it sometimes, but I promise I’m not addicted. And no one saw me. Only… just him.”

“Take the cup. Pee in it.” He strained, and I could see the veins in his temple now as he spoke with anger. “Luca has two daughters and he has the guts to send me the addict amongst them. One war will not be enough.”

Cold sweat broke out on my skin, and I opened my mouth again just to clamp it shut almost immediately when I saw the way Igor looked at me.

I spared a glance at Viktor, but he had a different look on his face now. His eyes were blank, but his jaw clenched as he watched my shaking hands.

Moisture held onto my eyelids as I walked over to the bedside table and took the cup with trembling hands, knowing that I’d sign my father’s death once my pee touched this cup. But not just his death. Mamma didn’t make empty threats. She’d make sure to take away the piece of my soul that they’d already taken away once, for good this time.

It took ages for me to get to the restroom and I shut the door slowly, walking over to the mirror. My hands came down on the sink and the cup fell into it with a loud clatter. My breathing grew labored, and I watched the tears finally roll down my cheek.

I straightened and wiped at them frantically. This was not the time to cry. I needed to think of something. Crying never solved anything.

Think, think, think.

I touched the tap, as if just realizing its presence now. Swallowing, I looked into the mirror, then back at the tap. After another moment of thought, I slowly turned it on. I didn’t know if this would work, but when had it ever hurt to try?

I slipped my head under the running water and started to gulp it down, not caring that the water went to my face, my hair… I didn’t even care when my stomach started to protest after a full minute of drinking. I didn’t stop.

I needed this.

My bladder began to sing for a release, and I was just about to stop drinking when a loud gunshot rang in the air. I immediately choked on the water, just as the door to the restroom burst open.