Chapter 4 : Perfect Trophy Wife

The next few days blurred together.

At first, I made several attempts to run away. But each time the guards caught me before I slipped away.

This made father tighten security and I practically became a prisoner in my room.

I stopped talking to everyone. Mother and Uncle Marcus tried. While Father and Ruby ignored me.

Well it was alright, I didn’t want to talk to them either.

I kept myself occupied by researching one thing: Izaak Volkov.

If I was being forced to marry him, then I wanted to know exactly who he was.

The internet became my best friend. Who needed Ruby?

The more I searched, the worse things became.

Every article I came across dubbed him as ruthless. As an inhumane being that had not a single ounce of humanity in him.

But the stories seemed exaggerated.

The reporters that gave him the title of the “billionaire devil”, they didn’t really know them, did they?

The fact that I knew nothing about the man I was about to marry and the uncertainty of it all, bothered me more than the horror stories.

At least monsters were predictable.

Unknown things weren’t.

Three days before the wedding, my mother appeared in my room carrying a notebook. I immediately knew I was going to hate whatever conversation followed.

“What’s that?”

She smiled weakly. “Wedding preparations.”

She sat beside me, and I scooted a few inches away. If she was hurt by the distance I was keeping from her, she didn’t show.

“We need to discuss your duties.”

“Right. Duties.”

The word tasted bitter.

Mother ignored my tone. “A mobster wife is an entity representing her family.”

I looked out the window. “Funny. I thought a wife was a person.”

She closed the notebook with a sigh. “Velma.”

“What?”

“You need to stop fighting this.”

There it was again. That expectation. That assumption I would eventually surrender.

I hated it. “What about my shooting and defence lessons? Will I still have those, as a mobster wife?”

Her entire body froze, and she glanced nervously at the door.

“Velma! What have I told you!” She shushed me, and rubbed her forehead. “I should have never let Marcus persuade me.”

My defence lessons had been with Uncle Marcus. He had trained me ever since I was young, with mother’s permission.

But it had been a secret from father.

I always thought we were hiding it because father was too protective of me.

Turns out, it was because he was breeding me to be the perfect trophy wife.

Despite mother’s efforts on my bridal training, I acted uncooperative, and she eventually left.

Before I knew it, the wedding day arrived.

People filled our estate. Stylists and the best designers in the country came in and out of my room.

My female relatives flooded in, offering their congratulations. And to each one, I formally accepted with a nod and kept my distance.

These people who I’d spent thanksgiving and Christmas holidays with, had known all along, that I was going to be the peace offering to the Volkovs. They were glad to throw me under the bus, as long as it meant they were safe.

I saw Ruby from a distance. She glared at me, while I acted like she didn’t exist. Too insignificant for me to dwell on.

But I would be lying if I said her betrayal didn’t sting.

Of course, I masked all my feelings and kept my head up.

“Smile Velma.” Mother said between her teeth, as we posed for a picture.

I sighed and stepped away the moment the photograph was captured.

“And why should I do that, Mother?”

“It’s literally your wedding!”

I rolled my eyes. “My wedding you say? Then where in the world is the groom?”

Izaak Volkov was nowhere in sight, and the reception was almost over.

“He’s um...running late.” Mother replied, refusing to look me in the eye.

Oh he got to skip all of the socialising and merriment, but it was my obligation?

“I hope he doesn’t come at all.” I muttered under my breath.

The reception ended, and before the ceremony began, I was ushered back to the dressing room to change into a different gown, and adjust my hair.

I sat in front of a mirror while the stylists did their job. The reflection staring back at me was beautiful.

But my eyes stared soullessly back at me.

So this is it? I get married to a complete stranger who’d didn’t even bother to arrive early to his own wedding!

A knock interrupted my thoughts.

One of the staff entered.

“Miss Velma, your uncle is asking for you.”

For the first time all day, I felt something other than numbness.

“Send him in.”

A minute later, Uncle Marcus stepped inside.

The moment the door shut behind him, his expression changed. The forced smile he had worn while mingling with guests, disappeared.

His guilt weighed down on him, and I could see it as he shuffled awkwardly on his feet.

Neither of us spoke immediately.

Then he walked toward me. “I owe you an apology.”

I looked down at my hands. Part of me wanted to stay angry at him. At everyone in fact.

Another part was simply exhausted.

“I know you do.”

He laughed, but it sounded sad. “Fair. I know this won’t suffice, and won’t change how I left you in the dark. But I’d like to give you this.”

He hesitated for a moment, before he reached into his jacket.

My eyes widened, surprised by what he brought out. Not an envelope or some sentimental family gift.

He pulled out a gun.

And pointed it at me.