"And now it is not just one person's home anymore. I live there now too. I do admit, the surroundings are beautiful. I can see that in an objective way. Subjectivity is. . . useless to me, however. The most I can do is acknowlede that it is beautiful. Beyong that I form plans and escape routes. My mind is focused on securing the area, figuring out what defenses there already are. So while you will not be confined to the house or your rooms, there is a certain point on our estate where I will have to make sure you do not go past it." Yurie explains.
The sunlight catches his face, highlighting it, and more importantly, the wide, ropy scar stretching down it. His eyes were cold and dead, but there was a false pretense of light to them, from the surrounding area. Even Ariella would be able to tell that this man had no semblance of empathy or compassion, and any time he seems to, he is acting. Ariella would know, in her heart, that she is living with a cold, violent man. If she didn't already.
"Stick with what you know then. There is no harm in making no change. Not in this regard, at least."
Ariella turned to look back out at the window. They pulled into the drive. She turned to Yurie one last time before exiting. "Quindi sarai il mio carceriere. Almeno sei più carina."
As the driver opened the door, she stepped out if the vehicle, ducking her head so not to hit it. She straightedge her dress and held her head up high. Walking in front of the others, she stepped up the steps to her door and swung it open.
She greeted the maid's cleaning at the entrance. She pulled her heels off, her feet aching in them. Only her tights covered her feet. She walked up the stairs, shoes in hand, and headed towards her bedroom. She didn't bother closing her bedroom door behind her, knowing her fiance would follow.
"Non direi che sono più carina, ma meno dura per certi aspetti." Yurie murmurs, looking away.
As soon as the car stops, he steps out of the car, shoes tapping against the asphalt.
He follows closely after Ariella, taking note of the rooms, bathrooms and closets that he passes, already memorizing the layout.
Stepping into his fiancée's room, he's astounded by the ammount of stuff everywhere, but he doesn't show it.
He merely looks around before poking his head into the bathroom, then the closet.
"Nice room. Very. . . decorated." he nods.
Ariella didn't turn to look at him as she disappeared onto the bathroom. "I did have to find some way to entertain myself. I stayed in this room most of the time. What else was there to do?"
She took off her makeup quickly. There wasn't much. Some concealer, mascara. She didn't want to worry about anything streaking. She brushed out the curls and placed her hair in a simple plait down her back. She entered her closest and make quick work of changing into some plaid sleep pajamas and a graphic tee.
She walked back into her room. "I would appreciate holding off on any wedding talk for the time being. My father did just die. I need an adjustment period."
"Fair enough." Yurie shrugs.
When Ariella comes back out without any makeup, he examines her, then watches her further after she's done changing.
"Sure. That's fine." he nods, considering her.
"Как ни странно, я чувствую возбуждение желания. Я не понимал, что я был достаточно человеком, чтобы чувствовать это." he says softly, with just a smidge of humour.
Ariella gave him a funny look but didn't comment on anything. She sat down on her bed, picking at her nails.
"So, what happens now? Any other demands you have for me? Anymore staff you would like to hire? How are you going to run Italy and Russia?" The questions started spewing out of her mouth and there was no stopping them.
It was a nice distraction from the current grief. The sorrow had burrowed down and backed away. She didn't find herself on the verge of tears as she had been for the past week.
Yurie turns over each question on its own, then all together, taking his time with responding.
"As you have asked, we wait for any talk of marriage. No, I do not, at least not yet. No, I shall be firing a lot of the staff. Phones and internet exist, and I have remote cameras set up that I can watch everything from." he replies slowly, his accent really thickening for a moment.
He stares down Ariella, waiting for more questions.
Ariella thought for a moment. "Will you be leaving for Russia anytime soon? And I'm sure we can get a blow up mattress for you. You'll have to ask the staff you'll be firing, however, for accommodations. I don't know where they keep anything."
Not a complete truth. She knew where plenty of things where. She often found herself cleaning and doing household chores. It wasn't as if there was anything else for her to do.
"And as for my engagement ring," she announced, "I want something big, expensive. Nothing less than a mil. And I want more than just diamonds. Diamonds are boring. Maybe sapphire or emerald." She was going to drain his bank account dry if she could. A form of retaliation. There was only so much she could do.
"No. I won't. As for the mattress and accomodations, I have those covered. My stuff will be arriving next week. In the meantime, I'll sleep on the floor and buy whatever I need in the meantime." Yurie sighs.
"Done." he says without batting an eye. With the addition of Italy, he had literally limitless money. There was no way she could bankrupt him. He didn't even really care about the money, though. He just cared about the power he gained.
"I shall inspect the premises and commence with the firings. Do what you wish in the meantime. Just do not go outside of the land's borders." he says, stepping out of the room without waiting for a response.
Ariella clenched her jaw. "And if I do not want you ti fire my staff? I have handpicked them all. I trust them with my life." That was a bit of stretch. "I know them, personally. If you fire them, many of them will end up on the streets. This is their only way to feed their families and keep a roof over the heads."
She bit her lip, picking at her nail so hard it made her wince. "And-and they know me. They know the house. To let them go would be dangerous. They could go to my enemies in retaliation for being let go. They know too much. It's safer to keep them where you can keep an eye on them."
She hoped she didn't just sign their death warrant as she made it blatantly obvious that was the only other option. She did not want to see her staff let go. It was one of the few choices she had in her life.
"Too bad. I'm the lord of this place now. And who cares? They can easily be bought with enough money. They can't be trusted. I'm not worried about their families, either. They can get other jobs elsewhere." Yurie replies.
A short pause.
"Then they all die." he says coldly. Unfeeling, uncaring. Exactly like frozen stone.
Ariella let out a string of insults in Italian. "If this is how you behave towards your staff I would hate to see what a ruler you are. The best people know they would be nowhere without the help. This is no way how to treat people. They are not lesser than you. They do not deserve to die because you are untrusting."
She was at her feet now, finger in his chest and face in his. She was angry. Angry was good. Better than being sad. And she had a heart. She enjoyed her staff, she often found herself in conversations with them. It was a reprise from the life she had been forced into.
"You will not touch them. You will put it through me with who.you would like to dismiss and your reasoning and I will decide whether or not to let them go. This is my house. They are on my bankroll."
Yurie doesn't even flinch.
"I don't have staff. I got where I am on my own. By killing and maiming. These people are lesser than me. They should fall at my feet when they see me. They should bow down and pray that I don't take their pitiful lives." he growls.
He takes her hand and uses it to pin her to the wall of her room, kicking the door closed.
"Now that I am here you own nothing. This is now my house. I own it and everything in it, including you. I don't have to explain myself to anybody, least of all you. It is your job to stay on the property and stay out of my way. Do you understand? You, and all the 'people' here, are undeserving of my attention. It's just that in your case, I have to protect you, per your father's contract." he growls softly.
Ariella spat in his face as she found herself pinned against the wall. No one treated her like this and got away with it. No one.
"Non possiedi niente finché non siamo sposati. E proprio come succede, non lo siamo. niente è tuo. È la mia casa, i miei soldi, il mio staff. Puoi far restare il mio staff e farò del mio meglio per lamentarmi. Oppure puoi fare quello che vuoi e ti combatterò in ogni fase del cammino. La tua scelta." She wasn't letting this go without a fight. This was her home. These were her people. She would fight until she was dead for them. What kind of leader would she be if she wasn't.
Yurie, again, doesn't flinch. He simply wipes off his face.
"Chiaramente non hai letto l'intero contratto. Tuttavia, per porre fine a questa discussione, ignorerò le tue trasgressioni e mi comporterò come se tu non mi avessi insultato." he replies, letting her go.
She would understand later how big a bullet she'd just dodged. For now, he would leave her be entirely, until a week has passed.
"Vaffanculo a te e al tuo contratto. Se fai del male a qualcuno del mio staff, ti metto una pallottola in testa." Ariella threw at him. One last attempt to save her staff.
She knew there was always a possibility of betrayl. A better pocket of coin, incentive. But she knee her staff. She spoke to them. She knew about their troubles and worries. She knew how their family was doing and had met some of them on more than one occasion.
"Get. Out. Get out of my room." She didn't care where he went as long as it was away from her.
"Good luck with that, dear. One of the first things my father did to train me was shoot at me until I stopped flinching and could dodge a bullet as it reached an inch of my face. There is nothing you can threaten me with. I'll hold off on firings. However. This does not mean I am holding off firing the guards. I'll know if anything happens to you, anyways." Yurie snorts.
"Already planned on it. I'll be in the cellars. Tell me when you're leaving." he replies, letting her go and stepping out of the room.
Ariella flipped hom off as he walked out of her room, one last act of defiance from her. Once she was well certain he was gone, she collapsed on her he'd and let out a pent up scream into her pillow.
She muttered several obscenities. Some along the lines of, What an absolute cunt. Fucking alpha male. Think he can do whatever he wants.
She didn't move for a long while, letting her thoughts turn and roll over in her head. She finally got a grip on her reality, she slud out of bed and headed towards her bedroom door.
She made the long trip down to the kitchen where she opened the alcohol cabinet. She grabbed a bottke of vodka and poured herself a shot, threw it back, then poured herself another one. She drummed her fingers against the marble counter in agitation.
What to do, what to do?
She wasn't going to get permission to go or do anything. She was an adult. She should be allowed to do as she pleased. And yet part of her wasn't quite ready to leave yet. She was tired and overwhelmed and so, so hurt.
She debated taking another shot but she needed to be within her right mind. She didn't trust getting drunk, especially around a stranger who could take advantage of her vulnerable state. With that in mind, she put the bottle back in the cabinet and put the shot glass in the sink.
She opened the fridge and grabbed a can of sprite out of it, opening it, and pouring it into a cold glass.
She heard her stomach rumbled yet she didn't have an appetite. She hadn't for a long while. The smell of food made her nauseous, much less eating it. She had been sick enough since her father's death, she didn't want to make any of it worse.
About an hour later, Yurie climbs up the stairs, onto the first floor, and thus, the kitchen.
He eyes the shot glass in the sink, then Ariella, silently.
"I see we're day drinking. Mind if I join you?" he asks after a moment.
He didn't care if she said no - he'd grab a bottle of alcohol anyways, he just wanted to see what she would say.
Ariella raised her head as she sipped her sprite through the metal straw. She pulled out a rocks glass and opened the cabinet of alcohol.
"What do you prefer, we have just about everything. We have more alcohol in our bar if you don't see anything you like." She glanced uo at him.
The alcohol in the kitchen was their person alcohol ment for personal use. The bar was for hosting. Meetings, friends, parties, anything really. It was only used for her father's meetings, however. No one was invited to the house unless it was deemed important and safe.
Yurie leans down, looking through the bottles and selecting the strongest alcohol he finds - a nice large bottle of Spirytus vodka.
He poors himself a full glass, then downs it with a neat flick of his wrist.
"Found something I like." he replies with a straight face, pouring another glass and downing that too.
He smiles bitterly.
"It's funny. In America, I'm barely of age to drink. I'd still get carded. In Russia I can do whatever I want. Truly a strange experience, being able to walk through a street and not have anyone slip into the nearest open building out of fear."
Ariella just hummed softly. She had not experience with such a thing. She was rarely allowed outside much less in public.
She hopped up on the counter and set her empty glass next to her. Subconsciously, she started playing with her nails, picking at the loose skin around them. Her stomach rumbled again but she payed no mind to it. She wasn't hungry.
"So other then firing my staff, what are your plans?"
"Make some food. The cellar stores are all safe, from what I can tell." Yurie sighs, pouring another glass and downing that too before putting the vodka back in the cupboard and the glass in the sink.
"Because judging from how your stomach sounds, you really need food." he adds.
He goes back down into the cellar and comes back up with ingredients to make pelmeni.
Ariella muttered under her breath, rolling her eyes at his back as he walked away. Her food was safe.
She swung her legs back and forth, leaning back on her hands behind her. She watched him walk back in.
"You know how to cook? That's new. I'm not used to men in my life cooking."
"I make my own food evey day, yes I know how to cook." Yurie replies shortly, finding some oil and a pan, setting the pan on the glass top of the stove and starting to heat it up.
He steps back from the pan and turns to Ariella.
"You have fresh ingredients here." he says conversationally.
