Twisted Minds

Elaina

The wedding is next week. The forced wedding, that is. I’ve been crying myself to sleep since I arrived here, and it doesn’t make me feel any better.

I’ve only been here for three days, and the wedding plans are already in full swing. Not because anyone is excited, but because they want this alliance sealed as soon as possible.

I haven’t chosen a single thing. Every girl dreams of her wedding—the dress, the venue, the music, and most importantly…the person she’s marrying.

None of this wedding is my choice, but I’m just following orders.

Vadim has his maids bring several dresses to my room, and I hate each one I try on.

They’re not awful, but seeing myself in a wedding dress makes it all too real, and I’m not ready to face that yet.

“I need a moment,” I tell the women, and they nod, leaving me alone with the dresses.

I stand in front of the mirror wearing a strapless dress that’s tight around the torso but falls beautifully to the floor. I sigh softly. It’s gorgeous. But I shouldn’t be wearing it.

This isn’t how things were supposed to go. I was supposed to fall in love and marry the man of my dreams. I would plan the wedding with my mom, and everything would be perfect.

I close my eyes tightly, shaking my head. He could be lying. How do I know my mom is even okay?

Suddenly, I stand from the bed and rush through the hallway, knowing exactly where Vadim will be.

He always retreats to his office for business, and maybe this is just business to him.

I knock on the door furiously, tears streaming down my face. I hadn’t even realized how emotional I had become until I sniffle.

“вступать,” I hear Vadim say, but I have no idea what it means. Maybe he’s angry that I’ve come to his office.

Translation: Come in.

I stand at the door, unsure of what to do next, and a few seconds later, the door swings open. Vadim is standing there with his gun aimed right at my forehead.

I jump back, falling against the wall and covering my face. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

“Иисус Христос, дорогая. Did you not hear me tell you to come in?” He raises his voice at me before lowering his gun.

Translation: Jesus Christ, my dear.

“I don’t know Russian,” I stutter before slowly removing my hands and looking at him.

He looks irritated, folding his arms over his chest as he raises an eyebrow. “What do you need, Elaina?”

Other than to go home?

“I…” I pause momentarily before looking down at the floor. “I want my mom to come to the wedding.”

If I’m being forced into this mess, the least he could do is let me have someone I know there.

I feel like a gun will be held at my back, and having my mom there would provide some sense of comfort.

Vadim releases a low chuckle, shaking his head in response. “That isn’t how this works, my dear. Your mother had her eighteen years—that is said and done.

“Now, I have no intention of letting Fiona interfere with my business.”

“Just the wedding,” I beg.

“I’m unsure why you feel like you have a say in this. We have limited time, and my workers are waiting. Go and be assisted,” he tells me before closing the office door in my face.

Of course, I don’t have a say because the day I turned eighteen, I became a prisoner. This isn’t a wedding for me; it’s a wedding for the Russians and Italians to gain ties.

I return to the room where the maids are waiting with more dresses, and I manage to wipe my dried tears.

“Ms. Vasiliev, ther—”

I stop her from continuing, shaking my head. “My name is Duval. Elaina Duval.”

She seems confused and unsure how to approach the situation but simply nods her head. “Oh… Uh, well…Ms. Elaina, a package arrived for you.”

The maid won’t even call me by my real surname. Everyone is under the spell of Vadim.

Everyone except me, but eventually, I will have to follow, or I will end up in danger. Everyone around him, such as these women, walk around with great fear in their eyes.

“A package?” I ask.

She nods her head. “Yes. I believe it’s from Mr. Acerbi.”

Mr. Acerbi, as in Valentino. The maid hands me a small box, and all I can do is wonder what’s inside.

I don’t want whatever it is. Surely it’s something bought with blood money.

“Well…thank you,” I tell her, taking a second to open the box and looking at the elegant ring inside. It seems far more expensive than anything I would ever be able to afford.

“Oh my, what a beautiful engagement ring,” the maid gushes as she looks over my shoulder.

I, however, feel sick to my stomach. This is all becoming far too real. Until three days ago, I had so much to look forward to—university, falling in love—but now, I have no idea what’s to come.

I have nothing to look forward to now. Nothing else for the rest of my life with the stranger I was promised to.

***

I walk down the stairs of the large home. For the size of it, it seems to be fairly empty. The home only has maids and Vadim, along with a few of his men.

In the few days that I’ve been here I’ve already noticed that every man carries a gun, but I haven’t seen them use them, and I never want to.

I’ve only heard about these types of things in books or movies.

My eyes focus on the doorknob. It’s not like a door in a regular home, and I can’t leave. In order to get out, a key is needed to unlock it from the inside.

I’ve also learned that all the windows are locked securely.

“Looking for a way out already?” A light chuckle echoes behind me, but it’s not a voice I recognize. It’s not Russian.

I spin around to find Valentino, hands tucked into his suit pockets, giving me the same intense stare he did three nights ago. It’s more than a little intimidating.

I don’t know why he’s here or what kind of man I’m about to marry in a few days.

His gaze drops to my left hand and a thick, dark brow arches. “Did you get your ring?”

“I… Yeah, I did.” I nod slowly, clutching my fingers and avoiding his eyes. “It didn’t really fit.”

That’s a lie. I didn’t put it on because I’m not ready to wear a ring for a stranger. I’m not ready to commit to a man from the criminal underworld.

The moment I slip that ring on my finger, I’m accepting all of this, and I’m far from ready to accept.

“You’re a size six,” he states, not as a question. He doesn’t ask me; he states it as a fact. He knows my ring size, and he knows the ring he gave me would fit.

He knows I’m lying to him.

He steps closer, closing the distance between us. “I don’t like lies, Elaina. And once you’re my wife, I won’t tolerate them.

“Maybe you should start telling the truth now, so you won’t have to face the consequences later, yes?”

All I can do is nod. He’s pure evil, talking to me like I’m a trained dog, not a person.

What would the consequences be if I didn’t listen to Valentino? I’m curious, but I never want to find out.

“How old are you?” I blurt out.

He seems young, but not childishly so. He’s a man in every sense of the word.

“Twenty-four,” he answers, but he doesn’t ask me anything in return.

“Aren’t you going to ask how old I am?” I ask.

“You’re eighteen,” he replies. “You just turned eighteen a few days ago. I don’t need to ask you anything because I know everything about you, Elaina Vasiliev.

“Your mother is Fiona Duval. You grew up in Ohio as Elaina Duval. Your best friend is Kira Gures, and you worked at Duval’s Cakes.

“Your ring finger is size six, shoes are size seven, and blood type is A positive.”

I feel sick. He knows everything about me, even the most trivial and pointless things, all the way up to important things like my blood type. My fucking blood type!

How does he know all this?

I have no privacy, no freedom, and being part of this place, being related to Vadim Vasiliev, has put everyone I love in danger.

Valentino seems to have a very dark personality, and knowing I’m forced to marry him terrifies me.

I doubt life with him will be anything close to a fairy tale.

A ringtone interrupts us, and Valentino checks his phone. His brow furrows briefly before he shoves the phone back into his pocket.

He turns his attention back to me, his voice as rough as before. “Next time I see you, I expect the ring to be on your finger.”

Valentino turns and leaves the room. I guess he’s here to meet with Vadim about something.

I wait until he’s gone before I venture into the currently empty family room. My eyes scan the area, hoping to find something that could help me escape, but I come up empty.

There are no landlines. Everyone here seems to use cellphones.

I’m completely trapped.

***

That same night, as I sit on my bed, I stare at the ring Valentino insisted I wear.

An engagement ring for this forced engagement, for a marriage I don’t want and I’m not even sure he wants.

The ring is beautiful, but it represents everything that’s wrong. Every time I look at my finger, I’ll be reminded of the life I’m now forced to live and the life that was stolen from me.

I take the ring out of the box and examine the sparkling diamonds. The last time I looked at the ring, I didn’t even bother to take it out of the box.

I slide it onto my ring finger, close my eyes, and let out a soft sigh. He was right: the ring fits perfectly.

But of course he was right. He knows everything about me, and I know nothing about him.

I open my eyes to see the ring glittering on my finger. It’s the beginning of the end, and before I know it, there will be a wedding ring there too.