Adeline Ivanovna Petrov, a beautiful 26-year-old brunette and the wife of Moscow Merlot's chairman's only son stepped from the BMW parked at the curb. The sharp clicks of her heels drew the attention of the company's security as she ascended the few stairs, brushing through the opened door.
She gracefully moved through the crowded lobby, filled with employees at work, toward a glass-door elevator and made her way up to the second floor. The elevator chimed open, and she stepped out onto the marble floor, adjusting the blue navy suit she wore.
Arriving before a large office with a brown white wooden door, she stopped, extending her hand to knock.
"Who is it?" A man's irritated voice sounded from within the office.
"Adeline," she responded with a deep breath.
"Come in," the voice permitted.
Adeline walked in and shut the door as quietly as she could behind her.
At the desk sat a young man in his late twenties with sharp gray eyes and short, dark curls. He was none other than the only son of Mr. Petrov, the head of the Petrov Mafia group and the chairman of Moscow Merlot's company—a company that precisely dealt with exquisite, famous wine amongst popular brands.
"Good morning, Dimitri," Adeline greeted with honey-brown eyes that dryly smiled along with her red plush lips. Her dark hair was left in a ponytail, lustrously dangling behind her.
The man, Dimitri, twirled the expensive fountain pen in between his fingers and rested against his black office chair. "What are you doing at the company this early in the morning?" His face was wrinkled into a frown.
"I have something that I'd like to speak to you about." Adeline composed herself, the forced smile on her face vanishing in an instant.
"And what is it?" Dimitri raised a brow and dismissed the two bodyguards who stood before his desk with a wave of his hand.
Adeline pulled her phone out of the breast pocket of her suit and threw it on his desk. "What is this message?"
He lowered his gaze to the phone.
'I'm opening our marriage'
His lips arrowed into a grin at the sight of the message he'd sent to her the previous night, and he rested against his office chair with folded arms.
"So what? Do you have a problem with it?" he asked, tauntingly smiling at her.
Adeline darted her gaze from left to right and googled at him with a crumpled forehead. "Dimitri, do you realize what you're trying to do?"
"I do." Dimitri shrugged, unbothered. "The best decision I'm going to be making, actually. You don't have an issue with it, do you?"
"What?" She smiled at him in bafflement and disbelief. "Of course, I have an issue with it."
"Do you think I spent those two miserable forced years of my life with you just so you could open our marriage?" she asked.
Dimitri rolled his shoulders, innocently spreading his arms out. "Obviously." He laughed and got up from his chair. "Adeline, I don't care about you or what you want, I never have. You should know that by now, I mean, you're not dumb."
"Look at you." He pointed at her, walking out of his desk to approach her. His body hunched a little so his lips could rest next to her ear, and he whispered, "I never wanted you. It was forced by my dad as you said, and fucking miserable for you and me."
"And you know what? You should be grateful I made this decision. It is not selfish at all, because you're allowed to do what you will with this open marriage. I may hate you, but you can at least agree I'm considerate here, can't you?" A chuckle rumbled in his throat, and he pulled back to look at her face.
But Adeline wasn't saying a word, and this made him frown.
"Say something, Adeline!" He was glaring daggers at her.
"I should say something?" Adeline shut her eyes and drew a deep breath with trembling, fisted hands. Continuing the conversation would only give him more chances to humiliate her, so she turned, wanting to leave.
Dimitri, however, gripped her arm, pulling her back. He snatched her roughly by the jaw and forced her to look into his eyes. "Where do you think you're going? Did I say we were done talking? I asked you to say something, so-"
"Take. Your. Hands. Off. Me, Dimitri," she interjected, emphasizing with a cold voice. Her lips were trembling, and her eyes were devoid of emotion.
But Dimitri wasn't going to do that. Instead, he smiled before switching into full-blown laughter. "Look at your face, so pathetic. Was I that harsh on you?" he asked, wanting to garner a violent reaction from her.
Adeline exhaled shakily and grabbed his wrist, forcing his grip off her. She asked, "You will never get enough, will you?"
"Me? Pathetic?" A deep breath fled her mouth and she clenched her hands into fists. "You know what? I don't care. Do whatever you want and go to hell!"
She snatched her arm from him, as well as her phone, and turned around to storm out of the office.
"There we go again!" Dimitri burst into laughter, mocking her. "Always whining and playing the victim. You should be fucking grateful that you are actual entertainment to me, despite how worthless you are."
Adeline had come to a stop at the door, biting her bottom lip and tearing skin at the sound of his words. The taste of blood was rough on her tongue. But she didn't react and rather opened the door to leave.
However,
"Before you go, you should know that we'll be stopping your mother's treatment," Dimitri said, pulling out a cigar and a lighter from his pocket. "My father said she's a waste of space and would be better off-"
"What?" Adeline slowly turned around to look at him with dilated eyes.
"You heard me. Her treatment is coming to a stop." He shot her an irritated look, repeating his words. "Do you realize how much of a pain in the ass she is? It is a miracle my father kept her around for this-"
Adeline was right before him in the blink of an eye, quivering hands gripping him by the collar of his suit jacket and yanking him down to her height. Her eyes were as wide as a saucer and she was visibly shaking.
"Dimitri, you'll be stopping what?" There was fear in her voice.