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Chapter 3 The Boy from the Yard

Author: Krystal Alex
last update publish date: 2026-06-08 07:05:19

I looked at both of them. Then at their clothes. Then back at their faces.

"You two are talking," I said, "but you're wearing old fashioned style too. So maybe look in a mirror before you open your mouths."

Irina's smile dropped. She crossed her arms.

"At least our clothes ain't from a dead woman's closet," she said. "Talking like you're not wearing a cloth from your dead mother's times of style. No one afford to get you new ones?"

That hit right in my chest.

My mother's dress was the only thing I had left of her. The only thing I fought to keep. And this bratty bitch just used it like a knife.

I felt my face get hot. My eyes stung. But I don't cry in front of rich assholes who never lost anything that mattered.

"At least my dead mother had better taste than yours," I said. "Because you're wearing the same old shit. So maybe your mama can't afford new ones either."

They both stopped laughing. Irina's mouth fell open, and the man's eyes went wide.

They didn't say anything after that. Just stared at me.

Good.

The makeup lady stepped back. Grecia looked me over and nodded once.

"Good enough," she said. "Your father is here. He arrived an hour ago. Alexei is at the bar, and the wedding has already started. Don't embarrass us. We have guests from different clubs."

My father is here? I didn't even know he was coming.

I stood up. The new white dress felt heavy on my body. My mother's dress was still in the bag but it was no use now so I left it on the chair.

Grecia opened the door and I heard the music playing. Great. This is about to be my life now.

"Walk like you have bones, Lena. Be quick," she said.

I nodded while struggling to walk out to the church quickly with this long wedding gown that had drowned my feet.

The hallway led to the back of the church. And there he was. My father. Standing by the doors in a suit that didn't fit him right. His eyes were red. He'd been drinking already.

I walked up to him and he didn't say anything. Instead, he just held out his arm.

I took it because what else was I supposed to do.

The doors opened.

The church was full of people. All in black and they were all watching me. I kept my eyes straight ahead, looking at the altar at the end of the aisle. There were candles, flowers, and a priest in a white robe.

And a man standing there waiting for me.

I couldn't see his face yet. It was too far and there was too much light behind him.

My father walked me down the aisle. Each step felt like a mile. I could see Alexei in the front row, a drink in one hand and his other arm around some girl I'd never seen before. He wasn't watching me or acting like the wedding was important.

Bastard.

We reached the end. My father let go of my arm and stepped back. The priest said something in French. I didn't hear a word.

The man beside me reached for my veil.

He lifted it.

And I saw his face.

My heart stopped.

I knew this face from somewhere. He had a sharp jaw, dark hair, his hand had tattoos from where the suit stopped, and his eyes were hazel. The scar close to his mouth made me gasp.

It was him.

The boy from Paris high school where I attended with my brother. He was in a higher level when I had a crush on him when I was in high school here, before my mother died and everything went to shit.

He looked a little bit older now and much more masculine than before.

But it was him. I was fucking sure. I could recognize that scar anywhere.

Nikolai Volkov was the boy I used to watch from across the school yard.

He didn't react after seeing my reaction or show any sign of recognizing me. He just looked at me like I was a stranger.

Maybe he didn't remember me. Or he didn't even know me because he was so popular for his looks and at a higher level while I was a fresher that year.

Yeah. He didn't know me at all.

The priest kept talking which I didn't really listen to.

We exchanged rings. His hands were cold when they touched mine.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife."

Nikolai leaned in and kissed me real quick.

Better because I wouldn't know how to react or kiss if he had gone deep. Never kissed a boy in my life.

The church clapped. Not loud.

Then Alexei stood up from his seat. He was drunk and ready staggering.

"Bed her!" he shouted.

A few of the Volkov men laughed. Then more joined in. Then they were all chanting.

"Bed her! Bed her! Bed her!"

My face burned. My hands started shaking.

Nikolai looked at me. For the first time.

He grabbed me by the waist and threw me over his shoulder like I weighed nothing.

I gasped and grabbed onto his back. "Put me the fuck down. I can walk by myself."

The church erupted. Cheering, clapping, and whistling.

"How about I drop you on our bed tonight," he said. His voice low and confident, so full of himself.

He carried me down the aisle while everyone chanted behind us.

"BED HER! BED HER! BED HER!"

I was scared. Really scared. My heart was beating so hard I thought it would break through my ribs.

He pushed through the church doors.

And the chanting followed us outside.

"BED HER! BED HER! BED HER!"

I buried my face in his back and closed my eyes.

I had no idea what was coming next. And worse. I had a trauma when it comes to this after being abused by my brother for years.

And now. The boy I used to dream about was gone.

And the man carrying me to his bed was a stranger.

I told that to my fucking mind. He's a fucking monster and stranger now.

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