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

I WAKE up in the middle of the night, Ivy’s little body curled up to mine. Her lips are gently parted, and her hair is all wild around her. She reminds me of an angel. I still can’t believe she’s here. A part of me feels like I will never be able to thank Aleksandr enough for what he’s done, for bringing her here. It’s against everything in him to not take care of the people who belong to him. It’s who he is, it’s what he does. But still, after everything I’ve been through…

As I gently stroke my fingers through her soft hair, I wonder if I’ve made a mistake, allowing myself to be vulnerable with someone else. I still battle fears that may never go away. I still wonder if I am the kind of woman that’s worthy of being loved by anyone, much less someone who’s loyal and devoted.

My heart leaps in my throat when I realize that I’m not alone with her. Aleks stands near the window, still dressed all in black, his arms crossed on his chest.

‘Aleks?’ I whisper in a little voice. ‘Is everything alright?’

He responds in a whisper. “Come with me. I have our guards watching over Ivy. She doesn’t wake at night, and they’ll have the monitors. Now, Harper.”

His voice is distant, detached. I feel a cold sweat breaking out across my brow. I don’t know what’s wrong, but this isn’t good.

What did he do tonight?

I don’t like leaving Ivy, but I know that he and I need to talk. In the next minute, he takes my hand and leads me down the hallway toward the doorway that takes us to the roof. I’m wearing a threadbare tee and a small pair of sleep shorts. Wordlessly, he slides out of his sweatshirt and drapes it over my shoulders, though the tight line of his jaw tells me he does it out of a sense of duty, not tenderness.

How strange.

A sudden realization hits me. Dread begins to claw at me, vicious and viral. If he wanted to get rid of me, taking me to the rooftop would make it easy.

Who am I kidding? If he wanted to get rid of me, it wouldn’t matter where we were. He’s practically untouchable.

I frantically wonder what I can use as a weapon.

Do I need one?

When we get to the rooftop, the wind bites through my clothing, though I’m not sure that’s why I shiver. He flicks the remote, and the heaters come to life.

‘Aleks. What happened?’

Without a word, he walks over to the small bar and pours two drinks. He hands one to me and takes his over to the lounge chairs. Moonlight escapes a cloud and illuminates his face. I draw in a sharp breath at the haunted look in his eyes. The utter sense of detachment. He’s in a place I can’t reach, and I don’t understand why.

‘I was sixteen years old when I fell in love,” he begins, “for the first time.”

I didn’t think I wanted a drink at this hour, but I find myself taking a tentative sip.

“Who was she?” My voice sounds hoarse. I clear my throat.

“She was a girl on the street just like me. Orphaned, but unlike me, no one took her in. We started out as friends. I wanted to help her, but who was I kidding? My situation was barely stable.”

He takes another sip of his drink, staring off into a place far beyond where we are now. Clears his throat. Continues.

“As you know, I was taken in by the Romanovs. Adopted. I became one of them and damn near convinced myself when I finally had power, money, and skill, that I was untouchable.” He looks away. “She was not.”

My nose tingles at the sound of the raw pain in his voice.

“There was a gang war, and we were at the epicenter of it all. One terrible night in the dead of winter, gunshots broke out in a street fight. She came out to look for me. She was supposed to be at a friend’s house.” He looks away, his voice distant. “She was shot. She died right there on the freezing pavement while I held her and screamed for help, tried to save her. But you can’t stop someone from bleeding out when their carotid artery is hit.”

I suddenly feel sick.

He’s hinted at a loss like this, but I didn’t know. How could I?

I give him a sympathetic look. ‘I’m so sorry.’

He goes on as if I haven’t spoken at all. “After that, I knew that eventually I was going to be married for my family’s sake, not for mine. Not for love. I knew that wouldn’t ever be an option.’

He’s staring into his drink, but finally, he looks up at me. The look in his eyes breaks my heart. My hands begin to shake, and all the reminders in the world don’t help me to stop.

What happened tonight?

‘And then I met you. And I thought you were someone completely different from who you actually are. I thought you were spoiled, selfish. I believed the lies that I was told. And I hated that I believed them, even for a minute.’

I nod. I know this.

‘But I got to know who you really are,” he says on a sigh. My heart’s beating too fast. I’m cold and hot and shaking, as I listen to him speak.

“You’re someone who’s endlessly devoted to your child. Selfless, even when it broke your heart. You did what you did because it was what was best for her. You did it because you had no choice.”

He shakes his head. ‘To see you with her, anyone would know that you’re not the person I thought you were.” He swallows hard. ‘I believe you to be selfless, confident. Brilliant and talented.” His voice drops. ‘And sexy as fuck.’

I stare at him, confused. Bewildered. I don’t know where this is –

‘I went to your family’s home tonight. I was going to exact justice. They have to answer for a lot of things, Harper. Your brother, especially.’

I look at him sharply, this time more assessing.

There’s not a trace of blood on him, nothing. And I don’t think brutal violence is the only way he would deal with a situation, but I’m not sure I want to know either.

He pulls out something out of his pocket. My heart leaps into my throat.

The little box with a lock of hair, a folded picture, and a tiny charm.

“You found it,” I whisper.

‘I did. Is this why you were so adamant about going back and finding your possessions?’

I nod. ‘There was nothing else I cared about. Thank you.’ I clutch it to me, even though I don’t need this as badly as I thought I did now that I have Ivy.

Aleks’s voice hardens. “That was all that I found, Harper.’

I look up at him curiously. ‘What do you mean?’

‘They’re gone. Every trace of them. Not a stitch of clothing, not so much as a tissue out of place. They vacated your home, Harper,” he says, his voice hardening, a thread of mockery underlying his words.

‘What?’ What does this mean? Where did they go?

He stands, that same hardness in his eyes. Ice-cold blue pin me. ‘Don’t lie to me. Tell me you didn’t know that the home was a rental.’

I’m confused. What does he think I had to do with this?

‘Of course I knew that home was a rental. I knew my family’s circumstances, Aleksandr.’

‘So you knew that they played me.’

I stare, not sure how to respond.

“You won’t even defend yourself? You lied to me.”

I will myself to respond, because if this is what he thinks of me —

“Aleks. I don’t know — how could you — I didn’t know they were leaving. But why do you need them? Good riddance, I say. I don’t care if I never see them again.”

A muscle clenches in his jaw and he turns away from me. This is how he is, isn’t it? His go-to. When things don’t go the way he plans, he reverts to being his cold, hard self. Pushing anyone and everyone away. Walling up his heart so he’s safe and no one can reach him.

“My family suffered an attack two hours ago at one of our establishments. What do you know about that?”

“What are you talking about? Jesus, Aleks. What is going on with you?”

“I trusted you.”

“How interesting, I trusted you, too.”

He searches my eyes. It breaks my heart to see a world of hurt reflected in his gaze.

I lift my chin and try to make him understand. “My family and I aren’t the same. They barely told me any of their plans. I hardly know⁠—”

“You knew that wasn’t their home, didn’t you?”

“Yes, I already said that.”

He stands, towering over me. I’m reminded of how much bigger he is than me. How easily he could hurt me. We’re alone on the roof, and if I screamed for help, no one would come and rescue me.

Would he harm me?

I was hurt by the very people who were meant to protect me and if there is anything I’ve learned, it’s that anyone can inflict pain and suffering…including the people that should love you. Sometimes they’re the ones that hurt you the most.

I learned to wall myself up, not to listen to what others said about me. But it was only when I was here, with him, that I silenced those voices in my head that called me worthless.

“What do you want, Aleksandr?” My voice wants to wobble, but I won’t allow it. I stare him straight in the eye. When he reaches for me, I deflect him. If he touches me, I’ll lose all sense of reason and my ability to think clearly. “No. Don’t touch me right now. You look me in the eye and tell me what you really want to know.”

“I want to know how far your lies go,” he says, his voice hoarse and the blueness of his eyes piercing straight through me. “You knew you had a baby. You knew no one would marry you. So you and your family hid everything from me so you could trick me into marrying you.”

Something in me…snaps.

The fragile thread of hope I held breaks like a string snapping under too much weight and a flood of vitriol storms into my thoughts.

Whore.

Slut.

Worthless.

“I told you the truth,” I whisper. “I told you everything.”

He reaches for the box of memories as I fight against the torrent of hatred rushing into my mind.

Slut.

Worthless.

Lying whore.

His thick fingers move through the memorabilia and pluck out a small piece of paper.

“Explain this.”

Is he implying I lied to him?

My broken heart feels bruised. Ruined.

I stare at the paper in his hand but could recite the words from memory.

Though we’re apart, I will always, always love you.

The note that I wrote for my baby.

I shove his hand away. He stumbles as I push past him. I don’t want to talk to him. I don’t want to talk to anyone right now.

“Don’t you fucking walk away from me⁠—”

“Watch me.”Exclusive © content by N(ô)ve/l/Drama.Org.

If he thinks he can hold me in the palm of his hand then crush me on a whim, he’s woefully wrong. So, so fucking wrong. How could I have ever been vulnerable with a man like him? Never again.

I’ve always run when I was under pressure. But there’s a reason for that.

This time, I have nowhere to go, but it doesn’t matter.

I was foolish for thinking I could ever be vulnerable with a man like him. I storm down the stairs that will take me back to Ivy.

I have to see her. I have to hold her. Touch her. See with my own eyes that she’s okay.

“Harper, if you walk away⁠—”

I don’t bother facing him and flip my middle finger off at him. “Fuck off.”

So my family played him. They ran away and didn’t give him his goddamn money. I’d feel bad about how they used him if I didn’t know for a fact that it isn’t money he needs but a wife and children. Puppets. Tokens.

His heavy footsteps follow me.

“Harper—”

I enter our bedroom and open the connecting door to Ivy’s room, finding her sleeping peacefully. I release a breath I didn’t know I was holding.

I turn and shut the door between us, locking it.

He could open it. He has the key. He could break it down if he wanted to be a dramatic douchebag. I listen for him but can only hear him cursing on the other side.

“This isn’t fucking over,” he growls in a low voice, likely so he doesn’t wake Ivy.

Oh, it is, though, Aleks. It so fucking is.

I turn to face her.

Ivy’s safe. For now.

I’m not, but I will be.

I fucking will be.

I don’t need Aleksandr. I don’t need his protection.

I climb into bed beside Ivy and make a mental inventory of the weapons I’ve secretly secured, due in no small part to Nikko’s assistance and, unbeknownst to Aleks, his as well.

I lie down next to Ivy and brush my fingers through her hair. “Shh, baby,” I whisper when she mumbles in her sleep. “Rest. Mama’s gonna take good care of you.”