Chapter 1 Watch It Burn

ANNA Yesterday, I married a stranger. I still can’t wrap my head around it. Now, I sat in his extravagant manor that feels more like a lavish trap, bound to a man I met mere hours before we said our vows. His name is Gleb Romanov, Russia’s most feared name, whispered like a curse. Yesterday was my first step on Russian soil. I've spent all my life in Italy under the protection of my father who ran his own cartel. Steam curled around his sharp figure as he stepped out of the bathroom. His presence presses in on me, suffocating and heavy. He was breathtaking, same as yesterday when I’d first laid eyes on him. 
Monsters shouldn’t wear faces this beautiful. “Good morning,” I said, the words scraping my throat. 
He didn’t look up. “Morning,” he grunted, like it cost him something to speak.
 I shifted, hauling my dead legs to the floor with effort, fingers fumbling for my wheelchair. They trembled as I settled in. He just stands there, watching, offering no help. Before I married this man, it had always been Elisabetta, my father’s trusted chaperone, who helped me bathe and dress. She had followed me here to Moscow to tend to my needs, but calling her now felt… humiliating. I hesitated. Then, quietly, I asked, “Could you call Elisabetta?” My voice is small, hesitant. “I need help bathing.” Gleb froze mid-button, shirt half-open. His gaze snapped to mine, dark and cold.
“Do I look like your fucking servant?” His voice was a whip. A lump formed in my throat. "I just thought…” "There are thousands of people in wheelchairs." He yanked on his tie. His tone is sharp and dismissive. "They manage, so will you, so stop whining." His words sliced through me like a blade. I tightened my grip on the wheels of my chair. I will not break. I lifted my chin just slightly, meeting his gaze. His lips twitched, amusement or disdain, I couldn’t tell. I inhaled sharply, nails digging into my palms. I won’t give him the satisfaction of watching me cry. I won’t cry in front of Gleb Romanov. Not today. Not ever. But my voice was thinner when I said, "I understand that we’re strangers. We met yesterday, married yesterday. But you are my husband now, like it or not. My legs… they are useless and I need help." Gleb crossed the room in three sharp steps, boots striking the hardwood like gunshots. My pulse slammed against my ribs as I watched him close the distance between us. He loomed over me, close enough that I caught the faint bite of his cologne, leather and smoke. "You know the purpose of this marriage." His voice was low and menacing. "Serve your duty and give me an heir. Then we can both go our separate ways." That was when my resolve wavered, a sting burning behind my eyes. "Are you really this heartless?" His lips curled. He bent, his face dangerously close to mine. "Heartless?" He laughed coldly. "Why don’t you ask your mother what heartlessness means?" His voice cracked, just for a second, before the ice returned. His fingers caught my jaw, holding me still. His grip wasn’t cruel, but it was firm. More like a warning. "I fucking hate you.” He whispered, each word a shard of ice.”You and your entire family.” Then he let go, the absence of his grip left a sudden void. He stalked out, leaving me trembling in the silence, tears streaking my face despite my fight to hold it in. My sister, Maria should have been here instead of me. She ran, and I took her place. I wasn’t particularly left with no other option plus I thought I could use the opportunity to claw back the family that the Romanovs stole from me. I stared at the empty space where Gleb had stood, a dull ache spreading in my chest. Did I hate him? I wasn’t sure. I hadn’t known him long enough to define my feelings yet. But I hoped we could live together, pretend to be a real couple, at least for a while. I eventually called Elisabetta through the internal telephone. Fifteen minutes later, she walked into my room. "Anna, do you need help with anything?" she asked. I motioned toward the bathroom, the sting of Gleb’s words still raw inside me. *** I entered the dining room, the scent of breakfast filling the air, but for obvious reasons, I had no appetite. I shifted from my wheelchair to the dining chair, and as I did, my stomach twisted at the memory of Gleb’s words. “You know the purpose of this marriage. Serve your duty and give me an heir. Then we can both go our separate ways.” Dread settled deep in my chest. Nine months with this man would be pure torment. "Anna!" I looked up. Elisabetta stood by one of the marble pillars, worry carved into her features. "You seemed lost in thought. I called you three times, but you weren’t responding, and you’re not eating either." Elisabetta had served me since I was little. She always knew when something was wrong. "Is it about him? How was last night?" she asked, lowering her voice. Elisabetta and I had never been close in Italy, my father wouldn’t allow it. She was regarded as one of the lowest ranks within our cartel. More like a servant. But right now, she was the only companion I had. "He didn’t touch me," I said, trailing my fork between my fingers. Elisabetta’s face dropped. She shifted from the wall, as if uncomfortable. "Please, come closer," I pleaded. She always kept her distance unless she was rendering a service to me, another of my father’s rules. She hesitated, then took a step forward. "Why? You didn’t allow him?" "Elisabetta, please, sit down. My father isn’t here." Another hesitation. Then, finally, she walked over and sat. Fear lingered in her eyes, as if afraid I’d tell my father. "My father isn’t here, and you’re the only one I have right now. Just… be free with me, okay?" She nodded. I exhaled. "He paid me no attention. I waited in our room after the wedding, but he never came. Not until I woke at midnight and saw him lay beside me." "That’s strange. Isn’t the purpose of this marriage for you two to have kids?" "Yes. I don’t know why he didn’t touch me, but I’m not asking either. I don’t want him to." I paused. "He said he hates me and my family. I can’t imagine someone with so much hatred for me lying with me." Elisabetta opened her mouth, then hesitated. "I’ll be here for you, okay?" Something about the way she said it made my stomach tighten. A sharp sting welled in my eyes, blurring my vision. "Do you think I'll ever be able to walk again?" Elisabetta hesitated. "Yes, I believe. The doctor says…" "But it’s been five years already." My voice was barely above a whisper. "Sometimes I feel like my legs are getting stronger, then suddenly… they weaken again." Elisabetta’s fingers twitched against the table. She paused briefly, then forced a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “You just need time." Something about the way she said it made my chest tighten. She straightened. "Whenever you’re free, I can take you around the house to help you get used to it.” "Thank you. When the sun sets, we’ll do that," I said. "Bring me the novel I’m currently reading." "Alright." She stood and walked away. Reading was my only escape from reality, the only thing that made me forget my present state. My father had never allowed me to make friends, he claimed it was too dangerous. He believed isolation was the only way to keep us safe. I understood that he had enemies. That his world was built on blood and fear but I hated that I hadn’t been able to grow up like a normal child and not being able to walk only made it worse. The lights above suddenly flickered, coldness creeping into the air. Then the door creaked open, and every muscle in my body stiffened. Gleb. He stood in the doorway, his black suit streaked with red blood. Where in the world is he coming from? What had he just done? Whatever he had done must be horrible judging by how bloody he looked. My stomach dropped. His right sleeve was soaked through, and he cradled his arm as if injured. "You’re bleeding," I whispered. He stepped forward, his movements sharp and controlled. "So?" I swallowed. "So you need help." His gaze flicked to me, dark and unreadable. "I don’t need your fucking pity, you pathetic woman." The words landed like a slap. But this time, I didn’t look away. “Listen,” I said, my hands fumbling with the armrest of the dining chair I sat in. “I know you hate me and my family. You’ve made that crystal clear. But can we set that aside for now? If you bleed to death, you will die and we’ll not be able to make an heir talkless of making peace between our cartels.” That made him pause. “So you will either call a doctor or let me help with first aid.” For a second, just a second, A fleeting glimmer appeared in his gaze. Then, just as quickly, his mouth curled into a mocking smirk. "You’re quick to use my own words against me." His blood-slick fingers brushed my untouched plate. I didn’t answer. My heart was still hammering. I should be afraid of this man. I was afraid of him but I’d be damned if I let him see it. I may be bound to this wheelchair, but I refuse to be treated like trash. I’m his wife, at least for now and he must respect and regard me as one. Elisabetta suddenly appeared with the novel clutched to her chest. Her face paled when it landed on Gleb. She greeted Gleb tentatively. "Good morning." "I'm only here to give Anna her novel." She quickly added. She hurried over, thrusting the book in my lap before retreating. Gleb took the book from me without a word, his bloodied fingers smearing the cover. He flipped it over, inspecting it as if it were something foreign. “Do you want to read the book?” I asked. He ignored me and looked up, his dark gaze shifting to Elisabetta, who hadn’t fully left. "Get me a lighter," he barked. Elisabetta’s jaw dropped. "Now," he commanded. She hesitated for half a second too long. His eyes narrowed. "Are you deaf?" Elisabetta jolted and bolted. I swallowed, my pulse hammering against my throat. "What do you need a lighter for?" I asked, forcing steel into my voice, despite the dread coiling inside. “You’ll find out soon enough.” He stepped back, flipping through the pages with a lazy menace. Elisabetta returned, her movements stiff. She handed him the lighter, then stayed close to me, as if that would offer any protection. She was just as afraid as I was. Gleb turned the book over in his hands, his bloody fingerprints leaving a trail of ruin across the spine. "I assume you like this book?" he asked, flipping a page. I swallowed. "Yes of course. I told Elisabetta to bring it for me because I wanted to read it." I added, “I love to read novels, in case you care but you are already messing it up with blood stains. Plus you need to get yourself treated rather than standing here and staring at my novel.” His lips twitched. "Watch it burn." A shiver ran down my spine. Elisabetta glanced at me, pity in her eyes. I lunged for the book but he moved too fast, slipping it from my reach like it was nothing. Gleb flicked the flame to life. My breath hitched as he lowered it to the paper.