Older

16 | Vincent Kovak

"𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐬 𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐝, 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐭.."

𝐝𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐝 𝐤𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐧𝐞𝐫

We haven't fucked since that conversation.

Clara sat on one side of the spacious vehicle, her eyes fixed on the passing scenery, her posture exuding indifference.

I occupied the opposite seat, my gaze resolutely directed out of the window. Our knees barely grazed each other's, but there was a noticeable chasm between us that neither of us made any effort to bridge.

The rest of the honeymoon had been marked by separation—meals taken alone, separate hotel rooms, and an unspoken understanding that our interactions were limited to formalities. Our emotional standoff had continued, neither of us willing to give an inch.

We were both as stubborn as one another, she sighs glancing down at her nails and I could tell she's been bored. Her father doesn't let her come home or talk to them until shes pregnant. It was just a Mafia tradition.

The imposing gates of the estate slowly opened, and the grandeur of the Kovak Mansion came into view. As the car pulled up to the front, Clara slid out gracefully, her composure maintained. I followed her, her presence signifying the return of the First Lady to the estate after fifteen years.

The doors of the mansion swung open, and a line of maids and butlers stood in perfect formation, offering their formal greetings.

"Mrs. Kovak, a pleasure," the head butler addressed Clara with a respectful nod.

"Thank you," Clara replied, her tone notably less effervescent than before.

"Jeremy, give her a tour of the house-Nico with me." She didn't even look at me once, neither did she fight me for telling her what to do. She just-obeyed?

Nico walked beside me, and I watch as Jeremy describes each room to her. Nico followed me into my office, concern etched on his face. "She seems weird? What happened?" he inquired.

I shrugged off my blazer and tossed it aside, the weight of the world seemingly bearing down on me. "She's having a stubborn fit," I replied, my gaze fixated on the stacks of paperwork that had accumulated on my desk during our week away.

"Vincent, I think you need to cut her some slack," Niko whispered, settling into the chair in front of me. I continued to sift through the endless documents, his words ringing in my ears.

"And why should I do that?" I couldn't help but ask, a hint of bitterness lacing my voice.

"Because she didn't kill Roman," Niko replied gently, a note of reason in his voice. I paused on a particular page, the words blurring as I contemplated his words. "And you've been treating her like she has. One moment, she was meant to marry one man, and the next, she married a man twelve years older than her."

I closed my eyes, his words striking a chord deep within me. She was young, a mere child in a world of dangerous games and ruthless power struggles.

I set aside the folders, letting them scatter across my desk, and leaned back in my leather chair, my thoughts filled with a profound sense of guilt and reflection.I buried my face in my hands, grappling with the weight of my actions.

"I betrayed my brother. I fucked his wife—"

"Your wife," Niko interjected, his tone unwavering. "And you didn't know. So you didn't really betray him."

I couldn't help but feel the suffocating guilt that had plagued me since I discovered the truth. "So what do you want me to do, Niko?"

He leaned in, his gaze steady and resolute. "Listen, Vincent, I'm your second in command—I advise you. You need Clara on your good side. She's stubborn, and she won't let disrespect pass by her. I have a feeling if you disrespect her once more, she'll get a divorce, and that will be bad for you and your business."