Sanctum: A Dark Bratva Arranged Marriage Romance (Wicked Vows)

“I’LL FUCKING KILL HIM.”

“Of course you fucking will.” Mario Rossi, an old-time friend, sits across from me nursing a drink. He tips his glass in my direction and smirks. “It’s the Christian thing to do.”

I snort and return the gesture, taking in the early morning blue in front of us. We’re sitting on Mikhail and Aria’s balcony, and we’ve just narrowed down the possibility of who attacked Harper to a small handful.

There’s movement behind us and I turn to watch Mikhail hold the baby to his chest. Aria’s passed out in the glider next to him, exhausted not just from baby care but because she tirelessly helped us with the research we needed.

Wordlessly, he rises and places a blanket over her before he nestles the baby into a bassinet and walks the length of the balcony to join us, looking disheveled and exhausted in his crumpled tee and sweats. But he’s happier than I’ve ever seen him.

“How can babies sleep like that?” Mario says, shaking his head. “All tied up.”

“It’s called swaddling,” Mikhail says, rolling his eyes. “Makes them feel safe and comfortable and mimics the feel of being in the mother’s womb.”

Mario and I snort. “Well look at Mr. Mom over here.”

Mikhail flips him the bird then turns to me. “Who we killing?”

“Her brother for bringing his asshole friends around his sister and for failing to protect her. Then, whoever attacked her.”

“Of course you’re gonna fucking kill him,” he mutters, crossing his arms on his chest. “But remember, that’s her brother. She’ll have feelings and shit.”

“Her brother, who knew exactly who his friend was and what he was doing.” Which friend? We have no idea, but based on Aria’s findings, we’ve narrowed it down to only a handful.

“Fill me in,” he says, running his fingers through his hair. Mikhail had held and rocked the baby while I worked with Aria and she did her hacker magic.

“Mario showed us video from the night she was assaulted. It was easy to do, it was the only party she attended because her parents were out of the country.”

I reach for my laptop and show Mikhail the footage. In the uppermost corner of the screen, Harper turns to face the camera, her eyes wide and afraid. She’s holding a cocktail with a shaky hand, but even though it was a couple of years ago and the footage is bad quality, it’s still easy to see she’s gorgeous. Stunning. So innocent-looking with her wide eyes and freckled nose, I want to jump into the screen and throw my arms around her to protect her. I wish I could get back some measure of her innocence for her. I’d beat the fucking shit out of anyone who took it away from her.

“So it was that night she was assaulted.” I nod, trying to tamp down the need to break something. Red hot Lava surges in my veins. I breathe through my nose so I can see clearly again.

“We have a roster of who attended. Turns out that Volkov’s men hosted the event. So I questioned Petrov and Kuznetsov.”

Two men who came literally begging for us to take them in after the collapse of their Bratva group. Two men who have now proven themselves patient and loyal.

“And what did they tell you?”

“Almost all the guests were influential or wealthy, and often both. You know Volkov didn’t even pretend to be anything more than who he was. There was no currying favors or playing Mr. Nice Guy. He invited who he could use and work with, no more, no less. And we were able to narrow down a few more points.”

Mikhail nods.

“If she’d been assaulted by someone who had any stature or prestige, her family would’ve forced a marriage. But instead, they blamed her. So it had to have been someone who didn’t bring them any value. Of all the people that went that night, only her brother’s friends match.”

Mikhail nods. “Makes sense. So what’s your plan, then?”

“We’re moving the date of our gala up. It’s one place we could use to lure them in, and a venue we have total control over. I’ll use personalized invitations to lure the suspects and make them feel compelled to attend. I’ll leverage what Aria found out about who they are and what they’re obligated to.”

Mikhail nods.

“You know the gala is exclusive, not-to-be-missed. The whole exclusivity piece for people who are in the outer circle should appeal. Harper will go. It’ll be risky, but I’ll be right there.”

Mario raises an eyebrow. “From what I’ve heard, she doesn’t necessarily need any protection.”

I growl low in my chest and clench my hands. He holds his own up. “I know, I know, I’m not saying you can’t protect her, I know you fuckin’ will. I’m just saying she can probably defend herself if she has the right weapons.”

I turn away from him and face Mikhail. “Her presence should draw out whoever it was. We’ll keep her under close surveillance. Make sure she’s safe. But we’ll lure them out. Our men will infiltrate the group as guests or staff, so we have an added layer of security.”

Mikhail purses his lips, his jaw clenched. He looks out at the night sky and nods. “If someone hurt Aria, I would demand blood and a head served on a silver platter.”

“Of course.”

But…I know he’s leading up to something.

“But the gala’s our biggest event, Aleksandr. We can’t cause mayhem and bloodshed, or no one will come again.”

My nostrils flare. “You think our reputation is more important than my wife’s honor? More important than retribution for what she’s suffered?”

“Sit down, brother,” Mikhail orders.

I look down. Didn’t even realize I’d gotten to my feet.

Mario shakes his head and pulls something out of his pocket. “Mikhail, may I?”

Mikhail checks the wind direction and the distance between them, then finally grunts. A second later there’s the sound of a lighter followed by a flare of orange and the sweet, heavy scent of weed.

“Take a hit, Aleks,” Mario orders, holding the joint out to me.

I shake my head. “I’m good.”

“You need to clear your head.”

I draw in a deep breath of night air. “Your fucking secondary smoke’s enough.” He chuckles and takes another hit.

“Are you willing to listen now?” Mikhail asks with deceptive calm.

I refuse to back down. “We aren’t kids anymore. You’re the pakhan, but I’ve stepped into your position in your absence. We won’t settle this by beating the shit out of each other.”

There was a time when our parents left all of us to Mikhail, and as the older brother he kept us in line. But that was then, and this is now.

I stare him down. “Someone raped my wife and fucking destroyed her as a result. When I find out who that was, wild horses won’t keep me away from delivering the justice that’s owed. But I’ve waited this long. I can be patient and not cause a scene. Fair enough?”

Mikhail holds my gaze, his lips pursed, before he finally nods. “That’s all I’m asking. No slitting throats near the fondue.”

Mario snorts and Mikhail thoughtfully strokes this chin. “Harper asked for nonlethal cases, Aleks. Are you going to involve her in any of this?”

I shrug. “That was only her first taste of her power. We’ll see if that request still holds.”

“So you’re going to leave their final retribution in her hands?” Mario shakes his head. “What if she misses?”

Mikhail snorts. I smirk myself. “She never misses.” I get to my feet. “I want to get back to her and Ivy. Fill her in. Make our plans. Today, Aria said she’ll work with Mom and Polina to get the gala moving.”

Mario blows out a breath of smoke. “Never a dull moment with you Romanovs.” He drops his arm onto the armrest and inclines his head toward me. “You’re in a unique position now, aren’t you, Aleks? One child that came as a bonus wedding gift. Short of Aria having twins, you’re more likely to pull ahead.”

Mikhail grumbles but I can’t help but grin.

Mario can’t stop stirring the pot. “In my family, we fight over cannoli. In yours, you fight over the bambinos. Mama would be so fucking jealous, you have no idea.”

Mikhail laughs but when he asks Mario to tally all the grandkids the Rossis actually have, it’s no small number.

“Listen, I have to get back to Harper and Ivy,” I say, stretching. “I’ll be in touch later today.”

I’m processing through every possible scenario in the car on the way home. It’s the way my mind works, calculating possibilities and surprises, and the aftermath of the decisions we make.

I call Harper.

Her phone goes to voicemail.

It’s early but that usually doesn’t mean anything…

She’s probably still sleeping, I tell myself, especially if she’s next to Ivy and doesn’t want to wake her up.

Settling into the drive, I remember my conversation with Harper.

I shake my head.

She was pissed at me. She shut and locked the door and climbed into bed with Ivy. I wanted to make her come out and hash it out with me, but the next minute I got the call from Mario that he had intel, so I left and went to Mikhail’s. I needed space anyway.

Is she still pissed at me?

I call her again.

And again.

And again.

By the time I get home, I’m on the border of panicking. I screech into the driveway and whip the car into Park. Take the steps two at a time. “Harper!”

No response. My footsteps echo in the hall as I head toward our bedroom, only to find my bed still made and Ivy’s, too.

Where’s my security team?

“Harper!”

I call her again, and she doesn’t answer.

When I heard about her, I was told Harper was a runner and the first day we met, she proved it to be true. When I found out why, I understood.

But now I wonder.

Has she run again? Have I been fooled?

My heart seizes at the thought of not seeing her again. Of being apart from her.

Did she go? Me and my stupid bullshit mouth, did I push her away?

I have to find her.

“Harper!”

She’s gone. My actions have driven away the only person I’ve ever opened up to. The only person I’ve ever loved. She’s gone, and she took Ivy with her.

I’ll find her.

I have to.

I burst into the hallway and finally see one of my men. “Where the fuck have you been?”

“Your brother called an emergency meeting, sir. We had to respond. He’s putting plans in place for security at the gala.”

Of course he fucking did.

“And you thought my brother’s demands on your time superseded your need to protect my wife and child?”

I’ll fucking kill him.

His eyes widen. “Never, sir. Harper and Ivy are right outside.”

Heart pounding so hard my head’s buzzing, I stumble my way out of the house and into the backyard. I don’t see them. She fooled them. Told them she’d be outside and then when they were distracted by the emergency meeting, she left.

My knees give way and I sink to the bench outside the door. I bury my head in my hands. I’ve done it. I’ve driven them away.

I have to scrape my shit together so that I can —

The sound of a child’s laughter brings my brain to a screeching halt.

The sound…it’s Ivy’s contagious little giggle.

I look around me. Where is she? Where are they?

The Manhattan skyline dims in the background behind her, the wind whipping her hair in a wild swirl about her face. Ivy is leaping up in the air trying to catch the bubbles Harper’s blown, the bubble wand still to her lips. Harper sees me and waves a tentative hand. Seconds later, she and Ivy are heading my way.

Oh, God. My pulse is racing. My palms are sweaty.

“Look!” Ivy says. “Bubbles!”

I smile at her, my whole being flooded with relief. “Yeah, baby. Bubbles.” My voice shakes. I look up at Harper. How is she doing?

“What’s the matter?” she asks, her brow furrowed in concern. “Are you alright?”

I’m about to say no, when Ivy raises her arms to be lifted on my knee. “Bubbles, Daddy.”

Daddy? Startled, I look at Harper. She heard it, too, I know she did because her eyes are misty.

“I thought you were gone,” I say in a whisper because I don’t trust my voice right now. “I tried to reach you and you weren’t there. I came back and — and I⁠—”

“I wanted to leave,” she says, her head bowed. “I even packed a bag. But then we got to the door and Ivy pulled the bubbles out and I— I couldn’t do it. I needed to see you. I needed to fight for this. For us. And I didn’t want to take Ivy away again, not after everything she’s been through.”

I reach for her hand and squeeze it. “I’m sorry, Harper. I’m a fu— I’m a jerk,” I say, censoring my words so Ivy doesn’t hear me. “I’ve had decades of only caring for myself and that won’t happen anymore. It can’t.”

“I know,” she says with a deep sigh. “And I’ve had years of running. When you accused me, those thoughts in my head came up again and I⁠—”

“‘Those thoughts?”

“Yeah,” she whispers.

Ivy leans in and gives me a big hug before she slides down from my lap and runs after a particularly large bubble. I reach for Harper and drag her onto my knee. We watch Ivy chase the bubbles.

“I want to hear what they say, Harper. Tell me. What do you hear?”

She licks her lips and shakes her head. “I don’t want to tell you.”

I think about it before I speak. “I hear my own voice tell me shit that I shouldn’t listen to,” I say in a low voice. “Shit like you’ll never be loved. You won’t have happiness. You’ve done too much. You don’t deserve this. And it takes effort for me to push those thoughts away.”

“I think of the things my parents said to me,” she says, in a voice only I can hear. “Whore. Disgrace. Slut. Liar.”

She turns away and swipes at her eyes.

I hold her hand. “I wanted you to tell me yours, because it will help me replace them.”

Ivy squeals when she pops a huge bubble with her index finger, and it bursts into little droplets. Harper blows a few more, her eyes fixed on Ivy. I watch the bubbles float her way.

“Replace them?” Harper says softly. “What do you mean?”

“When you go to bed at night, I want you to only have good thoughts. When you wake up in the morning to face the day, I want you to think again, I am worthy. I want you to think, I am sexy. But most of all, I want you to think, I am loved.”

“Loved?” she asks in a throaty whisper. I pull her closer to me and kiss the apple of her cheek.

“Loved, Harper. Because I love you.”

Emotion overtakes her and she quickly closes her eyes. She draws in a breath. Whispers back, “I love you, too, Aleksandr Romanov.”

“I was angry and I wanted answers, but I should always give you the benefit of the doubt. Always.” I kiss her forehead. “I promise to take care of you. I promise to protect you. I promise no matter what, your safety and wellbeing are my topmost priority. Yours, and Ivy’s.”

She nods. “Thank you.”NôvelDrama.Org holds text © rights.

“I’ll make it up to you, Harper. I can’t fall back into old patterns like that.”

I hug her to me. Ivy’s giggle makes us both smile.

“And it’s for that reason that we need to talk about what I was doing last night. I have information and a plan.”