Page 7 of Till Death Saves Me

"Your five minutes are up," he says, his voice softer than I've ever heard it. "Let's get back inside, Virginia."

I turn to face Ivan, squaring my shoulders despite the tremor in my hands. "You can call me Ginny." He stares at me like he has no clue what I'm talking about, so I add, "Ginny. Not Virginia."

Ivan raises an eyebrow. "Your name is Virginia. That's what's on our marriage certificate, and that's what I'll call you."

His dismissive tone ignites a spark of defiance in my chest. "Everyone calls me Ginny. It's not a difficult request."

"I'm not everyone," Ivan says, his voice dropping to a dangerous growl. "You'd do well to remember that, Virginia."

The way he emphasizes my full name sends a chill down my spine. It's a reminder of his control, of how little say I have in this arrangement.

"Look," I try again, fighting to keep my voice steady. "I understand there's a lot about this... situation that we can't change. But surely something as simple as my name-"

"Enough." Ivan cuts me off, his patience clearly wearing thin. "This discussion is over. You will answer to Virginia, and that's final."

I open my mouth to argue further, but the cold steel in his gaze stops me short. This isn't a battle I can win, at least not tonight.

"Fine," I concede, the word tasting bitter on my tongue. "If that's how you want to play it... Ivan."

A muscle twitches in his cheek at my pointed use of his name, albeit it's what he goes by so it doesn't really land like I wish I did, but he doesn't rise to the bait. Instead, he gestures towards the ballroom door.

"Our guests are waiting," he says, his tone brooking no further argument. "Let's not keep them any longer."

As I move past him, head held high despite the sting of defeat, I can't shake the feeling that this is just the first of many battles to come. And if Ivan thinks I'll roll over and play the docile wife, he's in for a rude awakening.

I stiffen as Ivan's hand presses against my lower back, his touch both commanding and oddly gentle. The warmth of his palm seeps through the delicate fabric of my wedding dress, sending an unwelcome heat through my body. My breath catches in my throat, and I silently curse my body's betrayal.

"Ready to face the wolves again?" Ivan murmurs, his lips close to my ear.

I swallow hard, trying to ignore the way his low voice makes my skin prickle. "As I'll ever be," I manage, hating how breathless I sound.

We step back into the ballroom, the cacophony of voices and clinking glasses washing over us. Ivan's hand remains firmlyon my back, steering me through the crowd. Each step brings a fresh wave of awareness - the heat of his touch, the solid presence of him beside me.

"Smile, Virginia," he commands softly. "You look like you're headed to your execution."

I plaster on a fake smile, gritting my teeth behind it. "Feels like it," I mutter.

Ivan's fingers flex against my spine, a subtle warning. "Play your part," he says, his tone leaving no room for argument.

We stop to chat with a group of Ivan's associates, their eyes gleaming with barely concealed interest as they look me over. I force myself to laugh at their jokes, to nod and smile in all the right places. All the while, Ivan's hand remains on my back, a constant reminder of my new reality.

As we move on to the next group, I can't help but notice how effortlessly Ivan navigates these social waters. He's charming and confident, his smile never wavering. It's a stark contrast to the cold, dismissive man I've known for years.

"Not letting me out of your sight?" I say through clenched teeth as he keeps pushing me.

A smirk — a real fucking smirk — plays on his lips. "Not a chance."

I hate how much I'm noticing about him tonight. The strong line of his jaw, the way his suit fits his broad shoulders perfectly, the subtle scent of his cologne. It's like my senses have gone into overdrive, hyper-aware of every little detail.

As we make our way through another round of congratulations, Ivan leans in close, his breath warm against my ear. "I know this isn't ideal," he says, and his voice is softer than I've ever heard it. It's still gruff, but I can admit he's trying. "I know this isn't easy for you. It's not exactly a walk in the park for me either."

I blink, caught off guard by this unexpected show of... what? Empathy? Understanding?

He continues, pulling me back until my back hits his front and it looks intimate. Like we are playing the part of husband and wife so well. "I want you to understand something. Our marriage had to happen. That doesn't mean you'll be miserable. I'll uphold my bargain and keep you safe, provided for, and you'll give me sons."

I'm stunned. I hadn't really thought about it, but I had to sleep with this man. Oh fuck.

"But escape isn't an option. Not for you, not for me. We're in this together now, regardless of our personal feelings." His voice carries a note of shared burden, a weariness I've never noticed before.