Chapter Five: First day in Hell.

Ava

I hardly get any sleep throughout the night.

Each time my eyes fluttered shut, Nikolai’s face would emerge from the darkness, just inches from mine, the words he said yesterday lingering in the space between our barely touching lips.

I had spent the majority of the night reminiscing about the events of my botched birthday turned wedding day trying to make sense of my current situation. Letting out a disgruntled groan, I turn away from the harsh rays of sunlight streaming in from my windows.

Everything was so confusing. My entire life had changed. Everything I knew had been ripped out from under my feet and without an anchor, I had come crashing down into a pile of confusion and uncertainty. Nothing about my life felt real anymore.

In the last twenty-four hours, I had gone from birthday girl to wife-to-be, and now I was married to a man whom I barely knew anything about and trapped in his house.

Could my life get any worse?

The low rumble of my stomach forces me out of my thoughts. I realised then that I hadn't eaten anything since yesterday.

Nikolai's words had left my mind in a twisted state long after he left.

The mere idea of accidentally running into him after what he said to me was enough to keep me locked up in here forever.

I was mortified, and angry with myself for allowing him to have so much control over my mind.

I still couldn't believe that I almost let him kiss me. The memory of what almost transpired between the two of us is still fresh in my mind, stirring a fresh wave of embarrassment within me each time it resurfaced.

My God, what was wrong with me? The moment his fingers brushed my skin, it was as if every rational thought I had vanished.

I spent the night going through every possible scenario of what might have happened if his lips had pressed against mine the way I wanted them to, and yet, no matter how many times I reset the stage the outcome remained the same.

Me, beneath him, his lips pressed against my skin.

Heat pools between my thighs at the image and I clamp my legs together.

Fuck, this was bad. Really bad.

I wasn't a believer in love at first sight. As far as I was concerned the phrase was nothing but a lie concocted out of fairy tales for little girls to believe.

Lust at first sight on the other hand? That was totally a thing.

Which was why I knew my reaction to Nikola was nothing more than lust. It was simply my body's reaction to having an attractive man so close to me.

I wanted him to... Make love to me?

I shook my head. I doubted that a man like Nikolai knew how to make love to a woman. He probably slept with women and forgot about their names as soon as it was over.

I wouldn't be surprised if he did, after all, I knew very few women who would pass up the opportunity to be with someone like him in that way.

There was a certain charm someone as handsome and as dangerous as Nikolai, sparked within the female gender that could not be ignored by anyone with a working vagina, myself included.

I refused to be one of those women who fawned over him. I had to be smarter, to be stronger and I knew this.

Now I just had to wait until my body got the memo.

Pushing the heavy weight of the blanket off my body, I forced myself into a sitting position and tossed my legs off the bed, letting my feet connect with the hardwood floor.

The coolness from the floor sends a jolt through me, instantly snapping me to full awareness. I drag my body over to the full-length mirror on the other side of the room, and once I'm in front of the mirror, I sigh at my appearance, my lips parting as I stare at the image of a girl I barely recognise.

My hair is a tangled mess from a night of restless tossing and turning about in the sheets. Stray strands of brown hair stick all around in different directions away from the bun I had tied my hair up in the night before. My skin looks pale, almost lifeless under the morning light filtering in through the windows.

I looked terrible.

I was not a morning person. Not by a long shot. And judging by the slight throb in my temple that was not going to change today. If anything, the events of yesterday, coupled with my lack of rest, only worsened my hatred for mornings.

I run my fingers through my curls, attempting to work out a few knots, but after a while, I give up. Exhaling, I let my hand drop to my side in defeat.

My stomach growls again, and this time, I'm forced to acknowledge it.

I strip out of my clothes and head into the shower.

The bathroom is almost as big as the bedroom with plenty of space to move around. Steam quickly fills the room as the hot water cascades down my body, soothing my aching muscles.

Once I'm finished with my shower, I turn off the tap and step out. A pink towel hangs off the rack, and I reach for it, wrapping it around my body as I pad across the tiled bathroom floor into the bedroom.

I head over to the closet, pulling open the doors. I scan the rows of neatly hung clothes in their designated places.

When Nikolai told me everything I needed was already here, my brain hadn't processed the fact that he meant my clothes too.

Somehow, before I had even gotten here, he had managed to transport my clothes from my bedroom in my father's house into this closet.

The initial surprise I had felt yesterday on discovering this had worn off and morphed into gratitude that I at least had something to wear around the house other than my wedding dress.

Now that would've been very uncomfortable.

I decide to go with a pair of brown baggy high-waisted jeans and a tight-fitted top as my desired outfit.

Once I finish dressing up, I run a hairbrush through the strands of my still-damp hair a couple of times until I'm satisfied with the outcome and head downstairs.

I'm immediately greeted by the warm smell of pancakes when I reach downstairs. The rich scent fills the air, mingling with a hint of syrup and a touch of something sweeter, drawing me towards the kitchen.

When I step inside, I immediately spot Nikolai's five-year-old daughter, Kira, sitting on a stool at the kitchen counter. Her tiny feet swing back and forth above the floor as she concentrates on pouring syrup over the stack of pancakes in front of her.

Unlike yesterday she's wearing a bright yellow dress that matches the yellow ribbons securing the end of her braids.

A woman with long glossy blonde hair cascading over her shoulder, stands beside her, cradling a bowl of what I assume to be pancake batter in her arm, a whisk in her hand.

She's dressed in a white blouse with black polka dots scattered across the fabric. The blouse is slightly fitted at the waist giving her a playful yet refined look. She matches her blouse with a flared skirt with the same pattern.

She's beautiful, I think to myself, and as if she could hear my thoughts her eyes collide with mine as I step into the kitchen.

She isn't at all what I expect a woman in this household to look like. She looks... normal, happy even and for some reason that surprises me.

"Oh my God, you must be Ava!" she exclaims brightly, fixing the bowl on the counter. Kira doesn't look up. She's too busy munching away at her pancakes to bother with my presence.

The blonde lady moves until she's in front of me and before I realise what is happening, her arms are around me, pulling me into a hug.

Was personal space just not a thing with the people of this household?

"Silly me," she says pulling away once she notices that I make no move to return her hug.

"You must be wondering who I am." She extends a hand towards me, her smile never faltering, "I'm Katerina but you can call me Kat. I'm Nikolai's my cousin."

Nikolai had a cousin?

"It's a pleasure to meet you. I thought we would officially get to meet you during dinner last night but you never came down. Was everything okay? I wanted to send a maid up to your room but Ivan said you probably just needed to rest."

"Ivan?"

"My husband," She clarifies " who just so happens to be your husband's best friend. I guess that makes us a best friend-in-law. I think that's the term, isn't it?"

I doubted there was a term like best friend-in-law, but I wasn't going to tell her that. My stomach picks that exact moment to growl again, surprising us both.

Kira giggles from her seat and heat rushes to my cheeks in embarrassment.

"Looks like someone's hungry" Kat grins at me not missing a beat. She gestures for me to take the empty stool beside Kira and I do without any hesitation. "Luckily I had a feeling that you'll be down for breakfast this morning. I hope you don't mind chocolate chips in your pancakes."

She says and my forehead creases at that. "Who doesn't like chocolate chip pancakes?" I reply, trying and failing to sound undisturbed by the fact that there are people in this world who hate chocolate chips in their pancakes.

Kat's grin widens "I knew I liked you." She glances at Kira, "Chocolate chip pancakes are Kira's favourite too," She winks at the five-year-old, who nods eagerly, her eyes lighting up at the mention of her favourite pancakes.

"They're the yummiest in the world", Kira exclaims, her grin stretching wide as she excitedly shoves another bite of pancakes into her mouth.

"They sure are Kiddo," Kat says with a laugh, ruffling the dark curls on Kira's head affectionately.

She slides over a fat stack of chocolate chip pancakes in my direction and my mouth instantly waters at the sight.

"Priyatnogo appetita", she says, and I stare at her.

"It means enjoy your meal", she explains in English, sensing my confusion.

"Oh," I nod, then grab a fork.

As I take the first bite, the combination of the warm chewy texture mixed with the rich melted flavour from the chocolate chips instantly floods my tongue, sparking an instant wave of delight across my taste buds.

"Wow", I moan in between bites. "These are really good,", I say. Kat claps excitedly, the sound echoing through the room.

"I knew you'd love them," she exclaims excitedly, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction, "I mean I hoped you would, I wasn't exactly sure how you liked your pancakes so I was really looking forward to your reaction.

I blink taken aback by her confession . "You were?" I ask and she nods.

I'm surprised how excited she was for my approval. Up until now I never thought people like her needed the approval of others. Guess I was wrong.

"Of course I was. Kira's family, she'll eat anything I make, even if they turn out awful."

"No, I won't" Kira pipes up from beside me, her face scrunching in disbelief at the insinuation. Kat laughs as she glances down at Kira with a teasing smile.

"Yes, you would, because you love me too much to hurt my feelings isn't that right, Zajushka?"

Kira rolls her eyes but doesn't surpress the giggle that escapes her.

"But you on the other hand. You don't care about my feelings, I mean neither does Niko but that's besides the point." She pauses her brows furrowing slightly, "What I mean to say is that it's nice to have someone around who hasn't tasted my cooking before compliment it."

I take another bite from my stack and watch as Kat, dumps a generous portion of thick batter from the bowl she was mixing earlier.

She moves with practiced ease, pouring the batter in a circular motion and waiting for the bubbles to form on top before flipping it over.

"So..." I begin unsure how to approach the question I intended to ask. I had so many questions about this woman and her relationship with Nikolai.

"How long have you and Nikolai been close"

Kat glances briefly in my direction "Since we were children. His Mother practically raised me and after my father passed away Niko and his family became the only family I knew."

She slips the fully cooked pancake into a plate before dumping another portion of the mix into the pan.

"I'm sorry about your father." I say. I couldn't imagine loosing my father. Despite the obvious cracks in our relationship, I couldn't imagine living in a world without my father.

She laughs, but the sound holds no humour. "Don't be." She says, "My father was a disgusting bastard who derived pleasure from beating me and my mama. I'm glad he's dead. In all honesty I wish he had died sooner."

The bluntness in her words catches me off guard and I'm surprised by the complete disregard in her tone as she speaks of her father's death. Words elude me and I'm confused on how to respond. There's no trace of sadness or regret in her voice, just cold hard truth wrapped up in acceptance.

Oh, okay then. I steal a glance at Kira. I wonder if it's okay to swear in front of her.

I'm aware that her background probably meant that she was immune to that kind of language but still.

Language like that had no business being present in the same room as a five year old.

To my surprise and to her credit, Kira remains unfazed. Her eyes are focused on her meal, like she didn't just hear her aunt confess to being glad about the death of someone.

Children were anything but stupid and I found it difficult to believe that Kira was completely oblivious to her father's line of work. She had probably picked up by now the kind of man her father was and the nature of the people that surrounded her.

Kids were perceptive that way I suppose.

Kat flips another pancake and waits for a bit, ensuring the other side is golden to perfection before sliding it onto the now growing stack.

I was still trying to grasp how this woman was related to Nikolai. Their personalities were completely different. Whereas she had an overall bright and cherry demeanor, Nikolai did not.

They were both differently similar than it frustrated me to no end.

I'm about to take another bite from my stack, when a tall blonde man strides into the kitchen. His presence automatically causes my fork to free mid air and I'm unsure whether I should feel alarmed by his presence.

My worries was up a bit when Kira, jumps down from her stool and runs up to the man wrapping her tiny arms around his leg.

"Uncle Ivan" she squeals excitedly. The blonde man offers her a warm smile, his fingers ruffling the strands of her hair.

"You're awfully excited to see me this morning, Zajushka" the man says, his eyes sparking with amusement as he glances down at the doe eyed child clinging to his slacks.

So this was Nikolai's best friend. I didn't know what I expected when I heard about him but I expected someone who acted similar to Nikolai. There was a playful air around him, not at all like the kind I'd sensed on Nikolai. He reminds me more of Kat, since both their smiles are easily infectious.

Kat's expression softens on seeing her husband, her eyes flashing with genuine warmth at the sight of him. She wipes her hands on towel and walks up to him, a smile stretching her lips.

She's shorter than him by a good few inches and I watch as the affection the two share for each other bleed into the room as Kat rises up on her toes to place a firm kiss on his lips.

Ivan seizes the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his grip firm on her waist and she smiles against his lips. The sight causes my face to flush with heat and I quickly look away. Kira scrunches her nose and sticks her tongue out at the two of them in a fake barf.

"Gross"

Kat breaks the kiss, laughing at Kira's reaction, her eyes sparkling with amusement. Ivan whispers something to her in Russian and I watch as blush creeps up her cheek at his words.

"YA dumal, ty skazal, chto ne pridesh' k nam segodnya za zavtrakom." (I thought you said you won't be joining us for breakfast) She says and I watch in confusion, tying to decipher what she's saying.

"YA net" (I'm not) he says and then his gaze shifts to me "Nikolai has asked to see you."