THE DON'S CAPTIVE MISTRESS

Hate

AXEL

I smile at Damien before I continue. The favour isn't what he thinks it is.

“In the meantime, I want her trained to be a wife.... My wife. Not a princess. Not a sheltered girl. She needs to learn what marriage is. She needs to understand she won’t be living in a fantasy. She’ll have a husband to take care of, children to raise. My children will not be raised by nannies. They will be raised by their mother. And I want her prepared to be the Don’s wife. Not the Morozov princess. The Moretti Don’s queen.”

Damien nods slowly. “That’s acceptable.”

“Good,” I say, standing and buttoning my jacket. “I’m glad we got that out of the way... pleasure talking to you as always.”

“Cheers,” Damien says, raising his glass.

I raise mine too, put it to my mouth, don’t drink. Set it down.

That’s when Ivan pipes up again.

“We’d like that… in writing.”

I turn my stare on him, ice-cold. I really don't like him.

“What was that?” I ask.

“The agreement,” he says, adjusting himself nervously. “That you’ll marry Vasilisa at twenty-one. We want it in writing. We wouldn’t want you to go back on your word.”

There is a way he says her name, as if the two of them are familiar with each other on a first-name basis.

I step closer to him, lowering my voice.

“I never go back on my word… Ivan. This meeting was between two bosses. I didn’t invite your mouth into it.”

“Ivan is right,” Damien says, interrupting our standoff. “We need to put it in writing. You need to show your commitment.”

“Then do,” I answer. “Call me when the contract is ready.”

I nod once, turn, and walk out. I need to get back to Hazel. I need to get the f**k out of here.

The door shuts behind me in a soft click, but it feels like a gunshot in my veins. I exhale once, slow, letting the tension drain from my shoulders.

Remo falls into step beside me immediately.

“Three years,” he mutters under his breath. “That man really thinks you’re going to bend your knee in three years.”

I chuckle lowly. “He thinks a lot of things,” I answer.

As we near the double doors that lead into the ballroom, he starts again.

“Axel....”

“I know what I’m doing,” I cut in, my voice calm. “I bought time. That’s all I need.”

Remo shakes his head, but he says nothing else as we keep walking. We reach the double doors, push them open, and walk into the ballroom. Guests, servants, and guards crowd the room. Some guests are already drunk. Music bounces through the space, a heavy pulse under the chatter, like a heartbeat.

I adjust my jacket, jaw clenching as I scan the crowd. That meeting took longer than I wanted, and now all I’m looking for is Hazel. The last place I left her....she’s not there. My eyes sweep the sea of bodies again.

“Axel,” Remo murmurs, voice low, leaning in. “She’s coming this way.”

I stop mid-stride. “Who?”

“Damienn Morozov’s daughter. Vasilisa. She’s heading this way, and she looks… too excited.”

Of course she does. I blow out an irritated breath.

“Send her away,” I instruct him.

He gives me a look. “You know that won’t work. She’s convinced she’s your future wife. And as you said yourself, she’s Damien’s princess. It is her birthday. You can’t refuse her.”

I grind my teeth. This is exactly why I don’t deal with children. Vasilisa is in love with a fairy tale, and I am not a fairy tale.

I start walking, because the only person I want to see right now is Hazel. She’s my priority. I want to know where she is right this minute.

She’s nowhere in sight and neither is Nico, which makes me take a breath. She must be fine. I know Nico can handle himself, but I don’t want to think about what happened at the last party. The two of them disappeared together, and Hazel had looked at me earlier with those wide, frightened eyes. She was in over her head, still trying to find her footing.

“Find Nico,” I order Remo. “I want to get the hell out of here.”

Remo nods and peels away, slipping into the crowd.

I head toward the service bar and order myself a whiskey. I’m not going to drink it, it's for show. I’m not going to stand there like an i***t as I scan the crowd.

I take the glass anyway and hold it as I read the room. Who’s here, who shouldn’t be, who’s watching me.... Suddenly, I hear quick steps behind me, light, eager, too desperate.

I don’t even turn before a breathy, sharp, hopeful voice calls out:

“Axel!”

I close my eyes for half a second. And when I turn, there she is....Vasilisa. She stands in her shimmering blue dress that probably costs more than a normal year’s salary. Her cheeks are flushed, her eyes bright like she’s looking directly at the sun.

“Axel,” she says again, smiling so wide it looks like it hurts.

I clear my throat. “I didn’t think I got a chance to tell you this, but… congratulations. Happy birthday.”

“Oh! Thank you. Thank you very much.” She beams. “I was really hoping you would tell me that. But I knew when we saw each other before, there were a lot of people, and we really didn’t get a chance to talk just the two of us together like this.”

As she speaks, I look around the ballroom. Everyone is watching us. Every pair of eyes was glued to the exchange.

I hate to even guess what they’re thinking.

“Yes, you’re right,” I say, “but it’s also inappropriate for me and you to stand alone like this. Especially without a chaperone.”

Vasilisa laughs and steps closer.

“Everyone here is a chaperone,” she says, motioning around us. “They’re all watching. They all want to hear what we’re saying, so I think we’re fine. It’s not like we’re in a bedroom together.”

There’s a tilt to her voice, meant to be sexy, I guess. I don’t see it. I don’t get it.

“Great party, I have to go,” I say flatly.

I start walking away, but she rushes in front of me, blocking my path.

“Where are you going?” she asks too sweetly as if we are close pals.