Five: Dove

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Five:

Dove

"I have four rules I have to let you know before we get to the estate," Gedeon said, breaking the tense air in the car. I was curled on the furthest end of the back seat, away from him. I was surprised he didn't try to pull me close to him or hit me when I flinched to subdue me.

It finally hit me who he was. Gedeon Sokoloff, the youngest to ever take over the Russian families at the age of fifteen. His nickname I've heard from Father, "Cold Splatter" was because he was known to kill his enemies and he did it so messy that it looked like a piece of art on the floor. I thought he wasn't as deadly, but he was worse than Robert Gaggi.

And I was now his wife.

"Is she even listening?" Timor looked at me through the rear view mirror. I wasn't sure if I was supposed to answer, or if this was a test. I never knew how these men think, but if they were anything like Robert, it was best to keep quiet unless Gedeon talked to me. I clutched the Little Women, the only book I brought with me, closer to my chest. It calmed me, just a little bit.

"Bird, are you listening?" Gedeon asked, looking up from his phone and he cocked an eyebrow upwards.

Gingerly, I nodded, hoping to not anger him. I still hated the nickname and decided to throw it in to test my luck. "Yes, I am listening, Scar."

At that, a slow smile formed, even as Timor scoffed. "I didn't think you'll be entering the nickname honeymoon phase so soon."

"Shut up before I actually decide to take up on your offer to shoot your fucking ass before I even said you could tell her," he growled darkly before eyeing me. "Do you remember the first rule?"

"To not apologize if I do not mean it," I recalled.

He nodded, seeming pleased I remembered before looking back down onto his phone. "The second rule is to listen to me. That would mean if I say something, you won't disobey me. Trust me, you won't like what I'll do to those who doesn't listen."

I nodded meekly as I looked out the window. We had been driving for almost an hour, and with each passing minute, we seemed to be going further away from civilization. The buildings and houses were slowly morphing into miles of tree. It was basically a mockery. I didn't dare ask where their estate was. I still wasn't comprehending what went on an hour ago. My father basically just signed me away without batting an eye and handed me to someone more violent than Robert. "Yes, I understand."

"The third rule would be to not cause any trouble with the others in the estate. You can talk to them freely, even if they don't ask you it in a form of a question. Answer honestly and without disrespect," he informed me.

"Trust me, no one wants to talk to an Italian princess," Timor shot with a snort. I tried not to tense, because I wasn't sure if it was going to be a good or bad thing that they won't want to talk to me. "We're there in five minutes."

"Make sure Anastasia and the other maids prepare a warm bath and food for bird," he eyed me again, his eyes resting on my legs. I was practically freezing in my dress since it was the middle of winter. But he didn't eye me in a sexual way at all, but one of curiosity. Though I knew his eyes lingered a bit longer around my slender legs before it rested on my eyes. "What size are you?"

"Small," I answered. I swallowed the nervousness, and wanted to ask why he wanted to know, but was cut off.

"We're here. I'm going to let the others know, and to get a bath and food ready for her," Timor practically spat out the last part before opening his door to get the door for Gedeon. He turned to me and smiled, though it doesn't reach his eyes. I noticed it in the span of two hours I've known him. His smile was hallow and empty. It was like he wasn't capable of it.

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