His New Wife
1845 Words
Nikolai POV
I hated these pointless gatherings.
My father’s idea of a “family affair” was a room filled with fake smiles, political posturing, and endless stupid small talk.
It wasn’t about celebrating anything. It was about control—about showing off the union he orchestrated.
Me, my new wife, and Liam Smith.
The moment I saw Liam embrace Alex, I felt the familiar flicker of irritation rise.
He did it intentionally, I was sure.
A subtle dig at me, as if to remind me I wasn’t good enough for his precious daughter.
Liam had called me “the best of the worst” more than once. I didn’t care. I’d done my part.
I married his daughter, and our families’ business ties were stronger than ever.
Every box on his damn list was checked. Yet he still looked at me like I wasn’t worth the dirt under his shoes.
The feeling was mutual.
I drained the whiskey in my hand, the sharp burn barely registering.
Liam Smith. He wasn’t family, wasn’t mafia, wasn’t blood.
He was something worse—a self-made man with no allegiance to anyone but himself.
He’d clawed his way to power, leaving a trail of fear and loyalty so absolute it rivaled our own family’s.
Men would rather die than betray him.
Torture didn’t work. Bribes didn’t work.
It fascinated my father.
Lucas Greco respected the unbreakable loyalty Liam inspired, and it grated on me.
I’d seen that loyalty firsthand, in the way his men spoke of him, in the way Alex looked at him.
She was the only living thing in his world he cared about.
The only one he protected.
Alex.
I glanced toward her, standing awkwardly by herself, shoulders stiff under the weight of those judgmental stares.
She didn’t belong here, and we both knew it.
She wasn’t like the women of our world—meek, submissive, perfectly polished.
No, she was defiant, proud, and utterly alien to me.
She didn’t even take the virginity test.
The audacity of it still lingered in the air between us.
When my father demanded it, Liam refused, claiming he trusted his daughter.
That was laughable. Trust had no place here.
Not that it mattered. I hadn’t touched her. Our marriage wasn’t consummated, and she hadn’t said a word about it.
That silence unnerved me. What was her game?
Liam’s voice broke into my thoughts.
“How’s married life treating you?”
“Fine,” I said, the word coming out clipped and almost too sharp.
His smirk told me he wasn’t buying it. He leaned back, taking in my tension like he was savoring it.
I wanted to hit him. To wipe that smug look off his face.
There wasn’t much of an age gap between us—twenty years, give or take—but the man acted like he’d already won whatever battle he thought we were fighting.
Lucas stepped in. “I think we should talk business—”
“Business is for the morning,” Liam interrupted smoothly, raising his glass.
“When booze hasn’t been so freely poured.
You think I built my empire on the words of drunken men?”
His attention shifted back to me, and his voice lowered, taking on that dangerous edge I’d come to expect.
“I hear you’ve been with Denise.”
The name hit like a punch to the gut. My jaw tightened, but I didn’t react.
How the hell did he know about Denise?
She wasn’t just a former lover.
She was private. Untouchable. I made sure of that.
Since the marriage, I’d stayed away from her—and every other woman.
Not out of loyalty to Alex, but because this union came with complications I hadn’t anticipated.
Alex was a puzzle I couldn’t solve, and I didn’t like unsolved puzzles.
Lucas laughed, breaking the tension.
“My son wouldn’t ruin his vows.”
I glanced at him. That was a joke. He’d told me himself I could take a mistress if I needed to.
He’d certainly set the example—one wife, three mistresses.
Liam didn’t seem convinced.
He just stared at me, unblinking, his expression a mask of disinterest that didn’t fool me for a second.
“Denise is in the past,” I said finally, my voice cold and flat. “Not that it’s your concern.”
“Oh, but it is,” Liam said softly.
“Everything about my daughter concerns me.”
His words lingered, heavy with meaning.
Alex hadn’t moved from her corner of the room.
She was pretending not to notice us, but I knew she was listening.
Her posture was too rigid, her eyes darting just often enough to betray her.
She hated these gatherings as much as I did.
For a moment, I considered walking over to her, just to throw Liam off.
But what would I say? What could I say to a woman who barely spoke to me unless it was necessary?
Instead, I stayed where I was, letting the whiskey dull the sharp edges of my thoughts.
This marriage wasn’t what I wanted, and it wasn’t what she wanted either.
Maybe that was the only thing we had in common.
I thought it would be simple: a business arrangement, a duty to fulfill, a check on my father’s endless list of expectations.
Instead, it felt like walking into a battlefield with no end in sight.
The biggest challenge wasn’t Alex—it was her father.
Liam Smith.
I knew I had to keep up appearances. Liam couldn’t find out the truth:
I hadn’t consummated the marriage.
Not that Alex had complained. She was as silent about it as she was about most things, and that silence only added to my unease.
The only thing I’d managed to learn about Liam was that he adored his daughter.
Alex wasn’t just his blood; she was his greatest treasure.
That made her an intriguing piece on the board.
My father had told me to treat her with respect. It wasn’t hard—I had no interest in hurting women.
But this wasn’t about kindness. This was about leverage. And Alex was leverage.
“I had dinner with Denise two weeks ago,” I said, keeping my voice steady as Liam’s sharp eyes bored into me.
“At her request. She had a problem she needed me to fix.”
Denise had been an easy favor.
Her boss was getting too familiar, and with my marriage plastered across the press, some idiots thought the women in my life were fair game.
I hadn’t seen her in years, but we’d parted amicably.
There was no lingering attachment. No unfinished business.
I finished my whiskey, setting the glass down with a quiet clink.
Liam’s glare remained unwavering.
“My daughter hasn’t returned,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “Go and find her.”
In my father’s house, I didn’t take orders from anyone but Lucas.
But when I glanced at my father, he gave me the smallest nod.
It was infuriating.
I turned on my heel without a word, leaving the crowded room and its suffocating atmosphere behind.
The corridor was dimly lit, the faint hum of the party fading into the background as I walked.
Then I saw them—Antonio, one of my closest friends, standing far too close to my wife.
Alex was quick to step away, her posture tense, her gaze flickering toward the door where I stood.
“You know what? I think it’s time I headed back to the party.
It was nice meeting you, Antonio,” she said, her voice polite but firm.
She turned and froze when she saw me.
“Nikolai,” she said.
“Alex,” I replied, my tone even, showing the irritation simmering beneath the surface.
I let my eyes sweep over her, taking in every detail.
Her brown hair, thick and wavy, framed her face but lacked the usual elegance I’d come to expect from women in my world.
She always wore it up, practical and unassuming. Tonight, it was down, a rare change.
Her dress was another matter.
Black, shapeless, and utterly unsuited for the occasion.
It hung off her like a shroud, hiding every curve. I knew she hadn’t chosen it.
The maid I’d tasked with helping her must’ve picked it.
That was a mistake I wouldn’t repeat.
The women in the room had already been whispering, their sharp eyes and sharper tongues judging her.
This dress only made it worse.
“I’d better get back,” Alex said, her voice soft.
“I’ll be there shortly,” I said.
She nodded and walked past me, her presence disappearing as quickly as it had arrived.
“You’re wrong about her,” Antonio said, breaking the silence.
I turned to him, my brow arching. “How so?”
“She doesn’t like me being anywhere near her. Did you see?
The moment I put my arm around her, she moved away. Polite, but firm.”
I crossed my arms. “And the rest?”
“She took my hand off her thigh,” Antonio said with a shrug.
My jaw tightened. “What?”
“You told me to push her, to get close. No limits, you said.
I put my hand on her knee. That’s all.” Antonio tilted his head, studying me.
“But tell me, Nikolai, if she doesn’t matter to you, why do you look like you want to kill me?”
“I don’t want to kill you,” I lied.
Antonio smirked. “Good job, then.”
His words lingered, irritating me further.
Alex wasn’t supposed to be different. She was supposed to be predictable, a piece in a larger strategy.
Yet every move I made to prove her untrustworthy came up totally empty.
“She’s a manipulative b***h,” I said, as if saying it aloud would make it true.
“I don’t think she is,” Antonio replied easily. “And for the record, if she was, I don’t think I’m her type. You know the ladies can’t resist me.”
I clenched my fists, the image of my hands wrapping around Antonio’s throat flashing in my mind.
Antonio stepped closer, lowering his voice.
“That rage you’re feeling? It’s not what a man feels about a wife he doesn’t care about.
Maybe figure that out before you ask me to get involved.”
With a wink, he walked away, leaving me standing there, fists still clenched, my thoughts spiraling.
The night wasn’t going well.
I ran a hand down my face, exhaustion weighing on me.
The last three days had been spent hunting a rat in our organization, a man desperate enough to sell our secrets for a chance at freedom.
If it weren’t for my father insisting I be here tonight, I’d still be chasing him.
Alex. Antonio’s words echoed in my mind, mingling with my own doubts.
She wasn’t fitting into the traps I’d set. And I didn’t like that. Not one bit
- Writer
