Ghost (Boston Underworld #3) - A. Zavarelli Page 0,21
unease moves through her eyes, and I can tell she wants to pull it back into place. I do not allow it, my fingers gripping her chin and moving her gaze up to me.
“Do you question if I will send you back to Arman when this is over?” I ask her.
She blinks, but doesn’t reply. I can see the answers in her eyes. She would die before she allowed that to happen. It is what she believes I will do, and anything I say or do to prove otherwise is a wasted effort. Talia has been betrayed by everyone who was ever supposed to love her. Words mean nothing to her. I suspect even actions themselves, she will always second guess. Always seeking out the true motives beneath them.
The truth is, she will never trust me. Nor I, her. It is the way we are programmed. Duped by too many in the harsh school of life. She is my equal in this regard. The perfect partner. Emotionless. Someone who can stand beside me for the benefit of tradition without the complications. I need to remember that when I look at her.
“You are at a precipice,” I explain to her. “Wolves nipping at your heels. I think you already know this, yes?”
She bites her lip and gives me a tiny nod.
“And then there is this wolf in front of you. One whom you already know wants something else from you. It is this simple.”
She doesn’t argue. Instead, she waits for me to explain. To carry on as she considers every word carefully.
“You could go back to Boston…”
She flinches involuntarily at the very mention of it. As I knew she would.
“Which I cannot in good conscience allow you to do,” I finish. “Knowing what you would do there.”
Her gray eyes search mine, wordlessly. So many questions, but she does not voice them. That would show me that I have power over her. She already knows I do, but admitting it is something else. This is the spark that makes me believe all is not lost in her. There is still fight, even if she cannot accept it herself.
“I will not be sending you back to Arman,” I tell her. “Because you will be staying right here with me. As my wife.”
The only response from her is a vacant expression. I want more. I need more. My chest is tight, but I forge on.
“With me, you will be safe. I will provide you anything you could ever want. Clothing, shoes, jewelry… you will have the best of everything. And you will be protected. As my wife, nobody will ever touch you again.”
She accepts her fate without a fight. It should not disappoint me, but it does. Her only question is an honest one.
“What do you get in return?”
“In return, I will have fulfilled my duty and maintained tradition for appearances. You will stand by my side when I have guests, and at all other times, you will be free to do as you wish. Within the boundaries of the house.”
There is no reply from her. The words mean nothing to her. It would be easier if she told me she didn’t want this. But she doesn’t. So I take her by the arm and lead her down the hall.
The door to my office is open, and everyone is waiting. Magda’s eyes move over Talia, searching for some sign of protest. For a sign of distress. Anything. But there is nothing to be found there.
I meet the officiant’s gaze and nod. “We are ready to begin.”
Since he is on the Vory payroll, there is no need for vows or any other long drawn out procedures. He simply nods to the desk where the certificate waits. I help Talia into her seat and then take mine beside her. Then I hand her a pen and show her where to sign.
She glances at the tip, probably considering if she can do any real damage to herself with it. And then she presses it to the paper. Her fingers tremble after the first swoop, and I close my hand over hers to guide her. We sign her name together, and then she looks up at me. There are more questions in her eyes, but she doesn’t voice them. How do I know her name? What else do I know about her?
I feel as though she needs something from me in this moment. So I praise her in the only way I can think of.