Chapter 4: She’s mine to punish.

Tristan

My phone buzzes, waking me. I ignore it, opening my eyes for a moment and staring into the blank space. It buzzes again. This time, I stretch my hand to the bedside drawer and pick it up. There are several texts from my brothers, my mother, and all the family members.

*We are in your living room, what the f*ck are you still doing in bed?* That’s from my brother, Lucian.

*Oh my sweet Tristan, we are all waiting for you at the hall. Your father is getting anxious* From my mother.

*Tristan, Luca, and the others are finally captured, you need to take care of them after today* from my father.

*Come the f*ck out, brother, we are waiting for you*

*Congratulations*

*We can’t wait to see the bride*

*When is your bride arriving?*

*We are rooting for you, Tristan*

The text messages seem endless, so I switch off my phone. Then I release a breath. I almost forgot I'm getting married today.

My gaze lands on the clock on the wall; it’s almost 11am. That jolts my body to life. I place the phone back on the drawer, stretching.

Just then, I feel someone hug me from the back. I freeze. My hand snaps to the gun on the table before I hear the familiar feminine sound.

I drop the gun and stand from the bed, stretching.

"What are you doing here, Texas?”

A sly smile forms on the redhead’s lips. "Good morning to you too, Tristan Aleksandr Kozlov.”

I chuckle darkly. Texas is my cousin. She’s ruthless, dangerous, she’s like the feminine version of me. She helps with running the Mafia businesses.

"You didn't answer my question,” I state flatly, strolling to the bathroom to take a shower.

"Today is your wedding day, blame me for wanting to spend last night with you.”

Without responding, I close the bathroom door and turn on the shower. The cold water hits me, washing away all the tension in my body.

A few minutes later, I enter the bedroom, putting on a tuxedo that costs a fortune. Texas is nowhere to be found—probably around the house somewhere.

My hair is styled back, perfect for today’s occasion. I then walk confidently into the living space. The sweet aroma from the kitchen hits my nose, making my stomach growl.

My brothers, Lucian and Dmitry, are sitting at the kitchen island, laughing heartily as Texas prepares breakfast.

Upon seeing me, their laughter dies, and they watch me, holding their breath.

"Why did you guys want to kill my battery with those text messages?” I growl.

Their shoulders ease a little.

"Hey, brother. Mind joining us? Texas is cooking something crazy right here," my youngest brother, Dmitry, chuckles.

"Yes, Tristan, you should try this.”

She works like a flash, serving breakfast immediately.

I stand there, legs wide, arms crossed. They all sit at the dining table, waiting for me to join them.

I do, sitting at the head.

"Now tell me, what are you all doing in my house?”

"Well, you can call it a wedding morning greeting," Lucian says. He’s calmer, more reserved.

"How about you guys crawl back to whatever holes you crawled from?"

Dmitry clutches his chest dramatically. "Ouch, that hurts, big brother.”

Texas grins. "Leave the boys alone. Today is your day. You should at least be nicer, even if it’s once in a blue moon.”

Breakfast ends quickly. I stand up. My brothers do too.

"I'm going to pick up my bride. When I return tonight, let this house be spotless.”

I dash out of the house, getting into my Ferrari. Just then, Lucian and Dmitry get out as well. They knock on the car window.

"What are you still doing here?” I ask, heaving a frustrated sigh.

"We are going with you," they say, and get into the car without waiting for my response.

I drive off, heading to Marco’s house. My body roars with anticipation—I can’t wait to be with my bride.

A few minutes later, I’m driving into Marco’s mansion. As I step inside, the atmosphere feels tense.

Marco is waiting for me. His eyes dart to mine, widening slightly. His hands fidget with his tie.

I plaster a cold expression on my face.

"You are here," he says, like I shouldn’t be.

His wife is behind him, panic written all over her face. Their first daughter, Zendaya, too. But Roxana is nowhere to be found. What the heck is going on?

My hands tighten. "Where the f*ck is Roxana?” I bark, making his body quake even more.

I see sweat dripping from his forehead.

"I… I… she’s… she…"

"She what?” Lucian yells behind me, his eyes suddenly ignited.

I hold up a hand, silencing everyone. I walk closer to him—slowly, deliberately—making him feel the weight of my presence.

"What happened to her?”

"She’s nowhere to be found. She… she escaped.”

I pause, a moment passes, then two, three until my vision turns red.

“ She did what?”

Every nerve in my body cracks with anger. My knuckles tighten so hard they turn white.

She fucking ran away? Did she really think she could?

No one runs away from me.

Or is Marco trying to joke with me?

"Are you trying to play with fire, Marco? Have you decided to dig your own grave with your hands?”

"Please don’t kill me," he bows.

My eyes fall on his trembling hands. I grab his shirt, slamming him hard against the cold wall of his living room. A wince escapes his mouth.

My hand quickly finds my gun, and I aim it at his chest.

"Do you want to die?”

He falls to his knees. "Forgive me, please. I will find her. I will find her and bring her to you.”

A dry laugh bursts from my throat. It’s cold, menacing, and dangerous.

I grab him again, hitting him hard on the throat. He staggers back, hitting the floor in no time. Marco fights for air, coughing.

"Today is the wedding, and you’re telling me she ran away? How the f*ck did she do that? Everyone is waiting for her.”

I’m about to pull the trigger when he chokes out, "I know where she is…"

That makes me pause.

"Where is she?” I demand.

"I had my men search for her, and they told me she’s with her stupid boyfriend, Aaron. I told them to go and get her."

My knuckles clench, the veins on my neck throbbing.

I grab him again, pulling him close so he can look deep into my eyes. "They must not touch a single hair on her head. If they do, I’m going to burn this whole house down—along with everyone in it. I will go and get her myself.”

"O-okay," he croaks.

I release him, watching as he hits the floor. Then I kneel in front of him, tracing my fingertip along his cheek.

"One of your men should take me there. I will get her myself—“ I smile darkly, “—she’s mine to punish.”