Chapter 2: It is not Good for Man to be Alone
934 Words
Chapter 2: It is not Good for Man to be Alone
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The moment I heard the footsteps, I acted. . Adrenaline drowned out fear as I hooked my arms under Matteo’s and dragged him toward the back of the house. He groaned, barely conscious, his weight a dead thing against my own shaking frame.
The front door exploded inward, wood splintering against the marble floor. Shadows poured in, men moving with precision.
I gritted my teeth. Too many. Too fast.
The back exit was our only chance. I half-carried, half-dragged Matteo through the kitchen, my breath coming in harsh gasps. The moment I hit the alley, the cold rain hit me like a slap. The street was empty... except for a single black car idling at the curb.
I didn’t hesitate. I yanked open the back door and shoved Matteo inside before climbing in after him.
The door locked. The partition rolled down.
And Nikolai Volkov looked at me like he’d been expecting me all along.
“Going somewhere?”
***I didn’t speak during the drive to the Volkov estate. Blood from Matteo’s wounds seeped into my black dress, staining my fingers. My mind raced. How had Nikolai known? Had he planned this?
When the car finally pulled up to the massive wrought-iron gates, I turned to him. My fingers curled around the knife hidden in my sleeve, and before I could second-guess myself, I pressed the blade against his throat. “You set this up.”
Nikolai didn’t so much as blink. He simply tilted his head slightly, the cold steel biting against his skin. “If I wanted you dead, you’d be dead, Lyra. You know that.”
I clenched my jaw. He was too calm. Too sure. I hated that he knew I wouldn’t do it. Not yet.
“You expect me to believe this is a coincidence?” I demanded, pressing the blade a fraction deeper.
“I expect you to accept reality.” His voice was smooth, composed. “Your father’s enemies were waiting for him to die. Now, they’re waiting for you to fall. The Valentis are bleeding out, Lyra. You need a transfusion.”
My stomach twisted. “And let me guess. You’re the cure?”
Nikolai’s smirk was slow and lethal as he slid the knife out of my hands and handed it back to me. “Something like that.”
***
The Volkov estate loomed in the storm, its Gothic architecture a dark promise of power. Matteo was whisked away by Nikolai’s men to receive medical care, leaving me alone with the devil himself.
“We marry tomorrow,” Nikolai announced as we walked into the cavernous dining room.
I stopped short. “Tomorrow?”
He turned, amused. “You sound surprised.”
“This is insane.”
“This is survival.” He closed the distance between us, his presence suffocating. “My father doesn’t have much time. He wants to see our union before he goes. And you…” His gaze dragged over my bloodstained dress. “You don’t have many options.”
I swallowed my pride along with the bitter taste in my mouth. He was right. And that made me hate him more.
***
Dinner was an affair of cold stares and unsaid truths. The Valenti name was a wound bleeding out on the table, and the Volkovs were eager to pick the bones clean.
Nikolai’s father, Don Alessandro, sat at the head of the table, his gaunt face betraying his illness. He barely looked at me, speaking only to confirm the wedding arrangements. It was all transactional.
Until someone said, “It’s fitting, really. A Valenti in a Volkov home, considering her father murdered our matriarch.”
My blood ran cold. “That’s a lie.”
Silence.
Nikolai didn’t correct them.
I turned to him, searching for denial, for any kind of reaction. His gaze met mine, unwavering. “Your father’s hands weren’t clean, Lyra.”
My pulse thundered in my ears. “And yours are?”
Nikolai smirked, leaning back. “Oh, my hands are soaked in blood. But at least I never pretended otherwise.”
***
The wedding was a lifeless thing. A union sealed in ink and cold promises.
I stood beside Nikolai in the private chapel, my black dress replaced by an ivory gown that felt more like a noose. The priest read the vows, his voice droning as if he were burying the dead. When it was time to sign, I hesitated.
Nikolai leaned in, his breath ghosting against my ear. “This isn’t a marriage. It’s a business arrangement. Don’t ever forget that you’re still my enemy.”
My hand trembled slightly as I signed my name.
The ink barely dried before Nikolai took the pen and did the same.
***
My new bedroom was nothing like the cold, grand spaces of the Valenti estate. It was unsettlingly personal... plush carpets, dim golden lighting, the faint scent of Nikolai’s cologne lingering in the air. But I had no interest in his world, only in finding a way to survive it.
Restless, I paced until I noticed an uneven panel in the wall. Curious, I pressed against it. The panel slid open, revealing a hidden compartment.
Inside were photographs.
Of my family.
My father. My mother. Matteo. Me.
Some faces were slashed with red Xs.
Including my father’s.
A chill wrapped around my spine, constricting my breath.
And then I saw it.
A photograph of me.
No X.
But something worse.
Two words, scrawled beneath my image in Nikolai’s careful handwriting.
Not yet.
- Writer
