DRAWING LINES

Vladimir turned away from Ivy with a speed that rivalled time, and determination that iced out his eyes.

“Talk to me, Andrei. What the fuck is going on?” He questioned his second in command, as they walked side-by-side, with long, immeasurable strides.

“I only know about Misha. There's–”

Two guards ran their way, interrupting their conversation.

“Boss, it's the field,” one of the guards said.

Quickly, Vladimir broke into a run, bursting through the door into the field area of the mansion.

The cracking sound splintering all over, set his gaze up.

He inhaled sharply when he saw words written with fireworks in the sky.

“This is just the beginning,” Andrei read behind him.

“Fucking Gambino’s,” he muttered under his breath, his hand balling into a fist.

“Give the word boss–”

Vladimir looked to his side and saw Hedeon. Frown lines stretching his bloodshot eyes far apart.

Destruction was second nature to him. It was in his name.

Like he said, one word from him as the boss, and a reprisal would be underway.

“Let them have this one.”

“Huh?” Both Andrei and Hedeon chorused.

Vladimir lifted a thoughtful gaze. “We have a bigger problem in our hands.”

Their minds swiftly shifted to Misha's death.

His death meant the wine goblet had really been poisoned.

Only one explanation could be given to something like this.

“We have a spy in our midst. A bloody pretadel,” Hedeon hissed, disgust turning his tone into a baritone spark.

“Gather everyone important to the red room,” Vladimir instructed behind his shoulders, already halfway out of the field.

His mind disturbed with varying thoughts had him walking through the halls, willfully blinded to the guards running to and fro in a bid to calm the tension in the villa.

The Gambino's must have heard about his marriage to the Greene heiress, which solidified the presence of a traitor in their midst.

They drew the first sword. Naturally, it was important he responded with equal measure of destructive display.

But Vladimir was more focused on finding out who the hell was stupid enough to risk their life betraying him, and nearly killing his bride.

“Bride,” he thought, coming to an abrupt halt.

His head turned for his eyes to see the door to the room he had left her in.

This was something within his power to quickly rectify, so he drew closer, and opened the door.

Ivy did not hear him come in. She was too busy speaking to the wall about her annoyance to hear the door open.

Not wanting to ruin the flow of crazy conversation, Vladimir buried his back on the door, and watched her go.

“You know I'd take Millicent leaving scratch marks all over my body over this. It's not enough that I am married to a man, it just had to be the most insufferable one out of an already insufferable lot. Don't get me started on the fact I saved his life, and he repays me by threatening me. As if that wasn't enough, explosives are going off like we're in some war concentration camp. And Grandma? I wish I was with grandma in all of this madness. I can't be back in the villa where I belong, and I can't be with my grandma. Don't forget that I am married to an insufferable man. Tell me grey wall, if you were suddenly painted yellow after years of being comfortably grey, wouldn't you lose your mind?”

Vladimir could neither believe his eyes or ears.

She was talking to a wall. An actual wall!

When he thought she was crazy before, it was just a passing thought.

However, it was getting clearer to him that he might have been up to something.

“Yeah, you definitely would lose your mind, just like I have. And what sort of cologne does he even use? It's so overpowering, I can perceive it everywhere. It's bad enough he is blonde, and blue eyed,” she paused to scoff. “Now I have to perceive his scent everywhere? I don't think I'll survive this madness. I love grandma, but I just can't do this. If it was even a man sensible enough to not serve himself on a platter of poison, then maybe I could endure. But that one isn't smart, yet extremely arrogant. And for the love of God why is his scent so intoxicating? As if he's standing right next to me. Or behind me. Right, grey wall?”

The room became quiet. Not in the way it was when Vladimir initially left with Andrei.

It was in a still way. As if being forced to be quiet.

Ivy's heart dropped when she thought she caught the sound of a heartbeat.

Slowly, she turned around, coming face to face with Vladimir again.

“Yo-you,” she stuttered, her face completely flustered.

He gave her a once-over, before his icy glare settled on her face.

“You were right it seems. The goblet was poisoned,” he began in a blunt tone.

“Wow,” she blurted, taken aback by his frankness.

“I will find out who tried to poison you, and they'll be dealt with. Before then, I owe you an apology for being dismissive.”

Ivy's eyes widened. There was no way he was apologizing, she thought..

Men didn't apologize. Even when wrong, they were known to gaslight, and manipulate instead of admitting their fault.

“In order for you to feel safer here, I'll find out who did this. When I've successfully cleared this up, we will meet again to talk about our families, and why this union is a thing. You will understand then that it wasn't my wish to be tied to you this way-”

Ivy scoffed internally, and then followed it up with a hiss.

“What is he feeling like?” She judged his words.

“Just like it clearly wasn't yours to be tied to me,” he concluded, throwing egg in her face once again.

“Oh, you should have let him finish, Ivy,” she reasoned internally.

“So going forward, our relationship is strictly professional even though we're married by law. We will only cross paths when it's work related. You will have servants, and personal staff at your beck and call. You are free to go wherever you choose, whenever you like. There will always be a garage of cars, and a hangar of private jets ready for you. Two black cards will be handed to you, so you never want for anything. A staff member will be here shortly to show you to your room. Goodnight, Ivy Greene.” He turned his stiff back to her, and began walking towards the door.

“He didn't call me princess,” Ivy thought, almost disappointedly, as she watched his retreating figure.

He was just about to cross through the door, when she found her voice.

“And my grandma?”

He paused for all but ten seconds, and then resumed, shutting the door behind him.

“Asshole!” Ivy cursed under her breath, hating he had given her the perfect arrangement, save for the one person that made it all worthwhile.