Chapter 8 Marlena
For the rest of the night, Nikolai dragged me from one conversation to another, introducing me to people whose names I'd forget by morning.
Everyone stared at me and I could see the judgement in their eyes.
I could feel their eyes dissecting me, trying to figure out how someone like me had landed someone like Nikolai Volkov.
I wondered the same thing.
By ten PM, my feet were screaming in these heels, and my face hurt from smiling.
I excused myself to find the bathroom, desperate for five minutes alone.
The hallway outside the ballroom was quieter, decorated with gilded mirrors and fresh flowers that probably cost more than a month's rent.
I was about to push open the bathroom door when I heard voices.
Two men, talking in low tones around the corner.
" –surprised Volkov's finally going through with it."
"About time. The Kensington-Volkov merger has been in talks for years.”
I froze. Nikolai never told me anything about a merger.
"Richard must be relieved," the first voice continued. "Though I heard Catherine's furious about the girl. Expected Vivienne to seal the deal.”
"Can't blame her. That Rousseau woman came out of nowhere."
"Probably why Volkov chose her. No connections, no family leverage. She'll be easier to control.”
They burst into laughter while I stood there, my heart pounding.
Kensington-Volkov merger.
That's what this was. That's what I was.
I was not just bait for Viktor or a contracted wife.
My hands shook as I pushed into the bathroom and locked myself in a stall.
I tried to breathe, but my chest felt too tight.
Everything was a lie. Every smile, every word that had come out of Nikolai's mouth.
I was just a piece on his chessboard.
When I finally pulled myself together and returned to the ballroom, Nikolai was talking to a man I didn't recognize.
He was tall and dark-haired, with an easy smile.
"Marlena." Nikolai's hand found my waist again as I approached. "This is Damien Cross. FBI.”
FBI. My stomach dropped.
Damien extended his hand, his smile warm. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Volkov. Or should I say, future Mrs. Volkov?"
"Marlena is fine," I said, shaking his hand.
His grip was firm but not aggressive. Professional.
"Damien's with the white-collar crime division," Nikolai said smoothly. "Though I assure him, all my dealings are entirely above board.”
"Of course they are." Damien's smile didn't waver. "I'm actually here for the charity aspect. The Bureau likes to support good causes.”
I could tell that he was lying from the way his eyes stayed on Nikolai for just a fraction too long.
He wasn't here for charity. He was here for Nikolai.
"How long have you two been engaged?" Damien asked, turning to me.
"Not long," I said carefully.
"Must have been quite the whirlwind romance."
"It was." Nikolai pulled me closer. "Sometimes you just know."
The words were perfect and romantic, exactly what the script called for.
But standing between these two men – one who owned me, one who was hunting him – I felt like I was drowning.
"Well, congratulations." Damien pulled out a business card and handed it to me. "If you ever need anything, Mrs. Rousseau, don't hesitate to call.”
I took the card, feeling Nikolai's hand tighten on my waist.
"Thank you," I said.
Damien nodded to Nikolai. "Always a pleasure, Volkov."
"Likewise.”
The moment Damien walked away, Nikolai leaned down, with his mouth close to my ear.
To anyone watching, we were having an intimate moment.
A photographer's camera flashed nearby, capturing the moment.
“Don't even think about it,” Nikolai murmured against my ear.
"Think about what?" I whispered back.
"Whatever Cross just offered you." His breath was warm on my neck. "He's not your friend. He's not your way out."
"I wasn't –”
"You were." He pulled back slightly, his gray eyes boring into mine. "I saw it on your face. The FBI agent shows up, gives you his card, and suddenly you're thinking maybe there's hope."
"You don't know what I'm thinking."
"I know exactly what you're thinking." His hand slid to the small of my back, guiding me toward the exit. "And the answer is no. You belong to me, Marlena. Not the FBI. Not anyone else. Me."
The possessiveness in his voice made my skin crawl or maybe it was something else. Something I didn't want to examine too closely.
The car ride home was silent.
I stared out the window, watching Manhattan blur past in streaks of light and shadow.
My mind kept circling back to what I'd overheard.
Kensington-Volkov merger.
Strategic alliance.
Easier to control.
“You're quiet again. Don't tell me you're tired,”
"I am because you're exhausting." I didn't look at him. "All the performing, all the lies. It's exhausting.”
He was silent for a moment. Then: "You did well tonight."
I turned to stare at him. "What?”
"You handled Vivienne. You didn't fall apart when Cross approached. You played your role perfectly." He loosened his tie, looking relaxed. "I'm impressed."
"I'm not a trained seal," I snapped. "I don't need your approval for doing what you forced me to do."
"No, you're not a trained seal." His eyes met mine. "You're much more interesting than that."
"Is that supposed to be a compliment?”
"It's an observation."
I laughed bitterly. "An observation. Right. Like observing that I'm useful for your merger with the Kensingtons?”
His expression didn't change, but something flickered in his eyes. "You were listening."
"I have ears."
"Apparently." I said.
"So that's what this is really about?" I turned to face him fully. "Some business deal you've been planning for years? That's why you needed a wife nobody could trace, nobody with connections. Someone easier to control."
"Partly," he admitted.
The honesty surprised me.
"What's the other part?" I demanded.
"That's not your concern."
"It is when I'm the one being used."
"You agreed to be used." His voice was cold again. "For ten million dollars and your brother's life. Don't pretend you're a victim here, Marlena. You signed the contract knowing exactly what it meant."
He was right. I hated that he was right but it didn't make this any easier.
"The Kensington alliance is business," Nikolai continued. "You are... a complication I didn't anticipate."
"A complication?"
"You were supposed to be simple. Bait for Viktor, a convenient wife for the social circuit, a means to an end." He studied me in the dim light of the car. "But you're not simple, are you?"
I didn't know how to answer that.
The car pulled up to his building. Anton opened the door.
Nikolai stepped out first, then turned back to offer his hand.
I took it, hating how natural it felt.
In the elevator, he stood close enough that I could smell his cologne. Expensive. Dangerous.
"For what it's worth," he said quietly as we climbed toward the penthouse, "you surprised me tonight. With Vivienne and all of them."
"Good or bad surprise?"
"I haven't decided yet."
The elevator doors opened.
Nikolai stepped out, loosening his tie completely.
"Get some sleep. We have another event tomorrow night."
"Another one?"
"You're my fiancée now. Get used to it."
He walked toward the stairs to his floor, leaving me standing alone.
I waited until he was gone before pulling Damien Cross's card from my clutch.
FBI. White
\-collar crime division.
Was he a way out or just another trap?
I stared at the card for a long moment then I tucked it into my bra, the only place I knew Nikolai's cameras couldn't see.
Just in case.