With This Ring

“Your marriage will take place in two weeks. You can have your ceremony, after Levan and his fiancée have celebrated theirs.”

“With all due respect father,” I said, “no, thank you.”

“You will obey me in this,” he said very softly.

“No, I won’t. The only way I’m marrying is if you literally shoot me dead and drag my corpse to the altar. Short of that, no one is going to force me to marry anyone against my will.”

With that, I rose from the table and in the tense silence in the room, made my way out. I would have called myself some mode of transportation, but I knew there was no way any vehicle was getting into this compound. Also, I had left my phone at home. I would have to wait until my father was ready to leave. More than anything I hated feeling like a spoiled brat, but brat or not, no one was going to encroach on the life I had been trying all my life to carve out for myself.

My stomach was churning as I headed towards the Ivankov’s famous garden. It was called Morning Calm and had been personally tended to and planted by Maxim’s mother. After her death it had been scrupulously maintained by a team of gardeners. Now that I knew the sorry story surrounding her death, I couldn’t find it in my heart to appreciate the place as a green paradise filled with the most beautiful flowers from all over the world. The fern-leaf peony, royal azaleas, and schrenck’s tulips felt as if they had been watered by her tears.

To those she had left behind, this place was probably hell.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Maxim

Every eye was on me the moment Freya left the room, and for the first time in a very long time the urge to laugh came over me. She was something else and I was filled with reluctant admiration for her courage.

“Maxim,” my father said, his voice heavy. “What are you going to do about this?”

I took my time. “You heard her,” I said. “She doesn’t want to get married.”

“Yes, but what are you going to do about this?” my father asked, a hint of irritation showing.

“I can do many things, father,” I replied, “but forcing a woman to the altar against her will is not one of them.”

My father looked almost lost. He turned to Freya’s father whose face was red with anger. “What does your daughter want? Why is she so against this?”

“She wants her freedom,” Levan answered.

Like a drowning man suddenly spying a bit of flotsam my father turned to him desperately. “And that she will have. Maxim is not going to restrain her.”

“She might also be scared,” Bianca added gently. “About having to live a life of worry about Maxim’s safety. I know I was terrified for Levan.”

“Well that does not make any sense,” Freya’s father interjected impatiently. “This is her life. She was born into it.”

“But she didn’t choose it and she is doing that right now. Choosing something different for herself.”

“Bianca,” her father said. “It is not her fate to choose. She must accept Maxim. There is too much at stake. New players have entered the field and I will not be here forever to protect her. The only person who can make sure she will always be safe is Maxim. Do you have any idea how we can get her to accept Maxim?”

I watched as Levan turned to her with interest, his hand braced under his chin as he waited for her answer.

She looked first to Levan, then back to Freya’s father. “She needs to fall in love with Maxim.”

Her words were not music to either of our fathers’ ears. They leaned back heavily in their chairs.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Freya

I sensed Maxim before I heard him.

The nerves in my body were tingling, the way a deer will twitch when it smells something harmful in the air, but in the mix of that alertness was also an excited buzz that made the tiny hairs on my body stand to attention. I tried not to notice or care but when he was so close to me that I could feel the heat from his body and smell his wildly expensive custom after-shave, I gritted my teeth and whirled around.

It turned out that he wasn’t in fact as close to me as I had imagined, but he did have two glasses of red wine in his hands. He offered one to me.

I stared at it for the longest time, wondering whether to take it.

“Yes, it’s poisoned,” he said, his lips twisting into a wry smile, and my hand immediately reached for it.

I sipped my wine as we both kept our eyes on the massive fountain of the garden. It seemed as though it would have been just perfect for us both to remain there forever. I didn’t like the thought, so I turned around to face him.