Conditions

Back to the present…

Anya’s POV

When I woke up in the morning, Nikolai was gone. I had not seen him leave the room, I had slept so late last night. Leaving the bathroom after brushing, I heard a knock on the door.

I opened the door to meet a middle aged woman with a warm smile and an apron around her waist.

“Hello Miss Anya, I am Yelena, the housekeeper. Nikolai is waiting downstairs; he would like you to join him for dinner.”

I was surprised with how fondly she called him by his name. Our housekeeper would lose her job the day she refers to my father by his name, and here I thought the Vetrovs would be worse.

“Is that so? Well, thank you.” I replied, trying not to be rude to the lady. My fight was not with her.

However she didn’t move, she just stood there wearing that little smile that wrinkled her cheeks.

“What? You can leave,” I said with a creased brow.

“Um… Your husband doesn’t like to wait, Miss.” She said smoothly.

I scoffed. “Of course he doesn’t, why should that bother me? I am not his slave, I can decide not to go up there.” I argued.

“Alright Miss, I will stand here until you change your mind.” The woman said and turned away with her arms crossed and her back to the wall.

“Huh?” I was surprised.

Why is this woman Stubborn? Now she will guilt-trip me into following her.

“Fine, I will be there in two minutes, will you leave now?”

Her eyes lit up with a smile. “Sure, thank you young Madam, and welcome to the Vetrov family.”

With that she turned around and walked away.

Ugh! I hated that she was nice to me. I don’t want to like anything about being part of this family, I just wanted them all to be the monsters I imagined and give me more reasons to hate this union.

I quickly slipped out of my nightwear and into a cashmere sweater, jeans and boots. It was a cold morning after all.

I quickly went down the stairs and walked to him in the dining room . He was already dressed in a suit with an undershirt that fully covered his tattoos to his neck. He was drinking an espresso while reading the paper.

Who the fuck still reads newspapers? There is this thing called the internet.

His eyes dropped the moment he noticed me, his hands slowly lowering the papers.

Nikolai stared at me from head to toe, as if I was wearing anything strange. If he expected me to come down here in my nightgown with my nipples hard and poking through the thin fabric, then I was more than excited to disappoint him.

“Miss Vetrov,” He called softly, in a cold nonchalant voice.

Yuck! Being identified as a Vetrov sounded like a nightmare.

I folded my arms immediately. “You have made it clear that I am stuck with either being your wife or losing my family. I have agreed to remain your wife, but I have my conditions.” I blurted.

“Wow! Well… Good morning to you too,” He leaned back into the chair, a little smile tugged at his lower lips.

Fuck, that face made my heart skip a beat. Why did the devil have to look good?

“Are you going to hear me out or not?” I frowned, my arms still resting on my chest.

“Take a seat, Anya. Have breakfast.” He said plainly, pointing to the chair opposite him before turning his attention back to the paper.

“No, this is important.” I argued.

“If you don’t sit down and eat, I won’t listen to a word you say,” He replied without even looking in my direction.

“Huh? Well I… I usually skip breakfast.” I retorted.

“You won’t anymore.”

“What, you’re policing my meals now?” I raised my eyebrow in surprise.

“Sit down and eat, Anya!” he demanded in a stern voice, finally looking at me; those eyes scared me and I went silent immediately.

I grumbled and sat down, grabbing a plate. My stomach was rumbling as I was honestly starving; good thing he persuaded me, who knows? I could have passed out.

I couldn’t stop myself from rushing the food down my throat, each bite making me yearn for more.

“Don’t choke,” his voice made me halt. I looked up at him but he was neither making fun of me or mad, he just had that solemn expression that I could never tell what he was thinking.

Some minutes later, he dropped the paper and looked up at me. “So… Let me hear these conditions of yours.”

Not wanting to give him the idea that he decided when everything happens, I slowly washed my hand and then took my time to dry with the serviette before looking back up to him.

I let my arms rest on my chest. “In order for us to remain husband and wife, my first demand is that you give me my separate room…”

“Mghhh.”

I continued. “I also want to make it clear that you cannot have your men following me, I don’t need a driver or a bodyguard either.”

“So you want me to leave you wandering around unprotected?”

“I don’t need your protection, I am a Sokolov, I can take care of myself.” I insisted.

He scoffed. “Maybe, but you’re Bratva property now…”

“I am not a property!” I retorted.

“…I have enemies who would love to see you delivered in a box with your pretty mouth sewn shut.”

I froze the moment he said those words, my skin paled. He can’t be serious; surely he was trying to scare me.

I swallowed. “Fine, then. You can assign a car and a driver to me, but nothing more. I want freedom to go wherever I like whenever I like.”

He leaned back on the chair again. “Hmm… So if I do all of this, will you be a good wife?”

I felt my heart thump in my chest when he said that. What exactly did he mean by a good wife?

“You didn’t even know who you were getting married to, you were only marrying whoever my family had presented for the sake of an alliance, so why do you suddenly care about having a good wife? Isn’t it a bit too late for that?” I argued.

“If you want me to agree to your demands, then you must agree to my own conditions or no deal. What is it going to be?”

I frowned in annoyance, but I could tell his mind was set in stone.

“I don’t even know what the fuck a good wife is but sure, you have a deal.” I answered.

Nikolai’s POV

As I walked out of the house, smoking a pipe, Lev trailed behind me. “Boss… Word’s come in,” he said, falling into step beside me. “They’re organizing a welcome party for your return. Bratva heads, allies, distant blood. They’re calling it your official rise—as Vetrov don.”

I didn’t stop walking. My eyes were already fixed on the car waiting ahead. The matte-black Mercedes-Benz S680 Guard sat idle at the curb, its bulletproof frame catching muted sunlight like cold steel.

Lev continued. “They want to hold it next week.”

I opened the rear door but paused, resting a hand on the frame. “Push the date.”

Lev blinked. “To when?”

“After the memorial,” I said flatly. “Luca comes first. I won’t sip champagne while his grave is still fresh.”

Lev nodded. “Understood.”

I slid into the back seat. The door closed with a heavy thunk, sealing me in silence. My driver didn’t say a word as the car began to move.

I leaned back, exhaled slowly, and stared straight ahead.

There would be no ceremony until the ghost of my brother stopped haunting the hollow place in my chest.

T. B. C!