Brie's Submission (7-9) (Brie's Submission Boxed Set Book 3)

  “Did Durov treat you well?” Sir asked, sounding concerned.

  “I was the model of decorum,” Rytsar answered as he walked up.

  “He was, Sir. I’m just thrilled to see you.”

  Sir shook Rytsar’s hand. “Thank you for taking care of her. I’ve had enough to worry about.”

  “How did it go in New York?” Rytsar asked.

  “It was worse than I imagined, but it’s done. Time to face the last unpleasant task.”

  “Moy droog, keep your eye on the prize. You’re to be married in a few days.”

  Sir looked down at Brie. “I hope it’s everything you’ve dreamed of.”

  “If I’m marrying you, it will be.”

  He ruffled the top of her head. “Good, because I questioned the location, although I know it means a lot to your parents.”

  Brie shot a look at Rytsar, hoping to see a look of amusement, but he just smiled sympathetically at Brie.

  Oh, wow, I really am getting married in Nebraska…

  She sighed, realizing it didn’t matter. Although she had hoped for someplace exotic, as long as Sir was the groom, she could have her wedding in the middle of a garbage dump and still be happy.

  “What are the plans for today?” Rytsar asked him.

  “We go to the hotel and partake of your favorite beverage. Tomorrow I will face my demons.”

  Brie took Sir’s hand in hers and squeezed it. A silent reminder that she would be with him every step of the way.

  Brie hadn’t seen Ruth since the meeting at Mr. Thompson’s office, and was unprepared when she walked into the luxurious private hospital room. Sir had spared no expense keeping the woman comfortable, despite her condition.

  But it wasn’t the accommodations that threw Brie off, it was Ruth herself. It was as if time had stood still, just as Sir had described—like Sleeping Beauty in the fairy tale. Ruth looked as if she were resting peacefully, a slight smile on her pink lips. It was disturbing on so many levels.

  Brie could finally sympathize with Lilly for believing Ruth was still alive, because it truly seemed she might wake up at any moment. No wonder Sir had struggled with this decision…

  A woman walked in wearing a crisp white outfit. She stopped short when she saw them and hastily explained, “I am here to do Madame’s daily exercises.”

  “It’s not needed anymore,” Sir told her.

  The woman bowed her head and left the room.

  Brie felt tears threatening when she saw the look on Sir’s face. It was killing him inside to do this. She put her arm around him in support.

  “I hate you,” he said, his voice full of venom as he stared down at his mother. “I hate that you are making me do this. I want to slap that fucking smirk off your face.”

  Rytsar slapped Ruth’s face hard, the sickening sound of it echoing in the room.

  “Why did you do that?” Brie asked in horror.

  Rytsar told Sir, “She’s not here, moy droog. You’re talking to a ghost.”

  Sir nodded.

  “Even though she is gone, if you would find solace in beating her, I will shut the door and let you have at it.”

  Brie’s jaw dropped at the suggestion, but she kept silent in case Sir was seriously considering it.

  “Beating a dead body would bring me no peace.”

  “Fine, but I do recommend screaming at it. There is great satisfaction to be had in letting your rage out.”

  Again Sir nodded.

  “Would you like us to stand outside the door?” Rytsar asked.

  “Yes.”

  Brie willingly went with Rytsar, although she was surprised that Sir wanted her to leave.

  Rytsar shut the door, standing in front of it with his arms crossed while Sir’s impassioned ranting began. Although Brie could hear the pain and anger in his voice, she could not make out his words.

  The Russian looked down at her. “Do not feel bad that he sent you out. There are things that should remain between them. Memories too terrible to be shared.”

  “Why? Did he share them with you?”

  “No, radost moya, I speak from my own experience.”

  “I’m sorry, Rytsar.”

  “There is no need to be sorry. It’s not your burden to carry.”

  Brie frowned as she stared at the closed door, wishing with all her heart that she could share some of the burden Sir still carried. His tirade went on for what seemed like hours, then the room became deathly silent.

  As the silence stretched on, Brie braved cracking open the door and found Sir on his knees beside the bed.

  “Sir?”

  When he did not respond, Brie entered the room and approached him hesitantly.

  “Sir, are you okay?”

  He did not look up, but answered in a broken voice, “No.”

  Brie knelt beside him and slipped her hand into his. “I’m here for you.”

  Sir looked up and questioned her. “Why do I still care? Why do I have any empathy for this beast of a woman?”

  “She was a good mother when you were young. She loved both you and your father once.”

  “I wish I could forget,” he snarled. “I don’t want to feel any love towards her.”

  “You may hate me for saying it, but I don’t want you to forget. I believe it’s important to hold on to what was good, because it shaped you into the man you are today.”

  “It was all a lie.”

  “I don’t think it was, but even if it was, you had a good childhood—you said so yourself. Hold on to it and let that be the legacy your parents leave behind.”

  Sir stood up, and stared at Ruth for several minutes before he took her limp hand. “Momma…”

  Brie felt tears well up at the sound of love in his voice when he said the simple name.

  “There was a time I loved you. It is my reality, although I wish I could deny it. I loved the games you played with me when we waited for Father’s return. You let me rescue you from pirates and we explored the deepest jungles of Africa together from the safety of our living room. Your enthusiasm and creativity was something I cherished as a boy.” He paused, looking at her frighteningly beautiful face. “It’s hard for me to reconcile there was ever a time I felt safe and loved in your arms.”

  Tears began to fall as Brie watched Sir gather his mother’s limp body in his arms and hug her. “But I’m still here, Momma. The little boy you once loved—your little tesoro. There’s no reason to be frightened. The end of your suffering is here. It’s time for you to let go…”

  He laid her gently back down and said to Brie, “Tell Rytsar to get the doctor.”

  She silently exited the room, so choked up with emotion she was barely able to speak when she passed on the information to Rytsar. She returned to Sir, holding his hand in silent solidarity as they waited.

  All three of them stood together and watched as the doctor began removing the tubes, saving the respirator for last.

  “Are you ready, Mr. Davis?”

  Sir closed his eyes, letting out a long breath. When he opened them again, his tone was resolute. “Yes.”

  Rytsar put his hand on Sir’s shoulder as Sir wrapped his arm around Brie.

  Once the respirator was turned off, Ruth’s body started jerking as it fought unsuccessfully to take another breath.

  “Go in peace, Momma. I forgive you…”

  Brie began sobbing silently as Ruth’s struggles ceased and the heart monitor went flat. The doctor checked her over before pronouncing her dead.

  It wasn’t until then that Sir cried. Brie knew he was mourning the death of the young mother he remembered, but Brie cried for an entirely different reason. Her pain came from knowing that Ruth would never have the chance to undo the wrongs she had done.

  When the nurses came in to care for the body, Sir wiped the remaining tears from his eyes and announced, “We’re done here.”

  They walked out of the hospital without saying a word. Rytsar hailed a cab and they went directly to the airport.
He said his goodbyes as soon as they entered the building.

  “I’m sorry to leave so soon, but I must run if I am to make my flight.”

  He leaned down and gave Brie a crushing hug. “I will see you in a few days, radost moya. Save a dance for me.”

  He put his hand on Sir’s shoulder and grasped it tightly. “It will take time to adjust, but the worst is over, moy droog. Concentrate on the wedding, and deal with the lingering effects later. They aren’t going anywhere.”

  “Sound advice, old friend.”

  Sir gave him a hug that lasted longer than normal, causing several passing businessmen to stare. The two men slapped each other hard on the back before letting go.

  It was difficult to watch Rytsar walking away—it felt like part of their strength was leaving with him.

  “Come, Brie,” Sir said, handing her a plane ticket. She looked down to see if they were heading to Nebraska and was shocked to see the word “Italy” written on her ticket. Sir explained, “I thought it was important that we see my grandparents before we get married.”

  “I think we all need that, Sir.”

  “I agree, babygirl.” Sir placed his hand on the small of her back as he escorted her through the busy airport. The despondent look on his handsome face was enough to break a girl’s heart.

  La Famiglia

  Brie was just as enchanted by the island as she had been the first time they’d taken the boat ride to Portoferraio. She could see the change in Sir as they drew closer to his father’s hometown. He faced into the ocean breeze coming off the water, a look of expectation and exhilaration on his face.

  She felt it too—a sense of coming home.

  Sir smiled and squeezed her hand as the ferry approached the port and docked. “It’s good to be back.”

  “It’s been too long,” she agreed.

  The sky was a brilliant blue and the sun shone down on them with its gentle warmth as they walked the narrow streets towards his grandparents’ home. Brie was captivated by the bright magenta flowers that graced the walls and fences of many of the buildings.

  “What are these called? They’re absolutely beautiful, Sir.” She took a branch in her hand to smell it and quickly let go, surprised that the flowers had nasty thorns.

  Sir laughed as he brought her fingers to his lips and kissed them. “They’re bougainvillea. Beautiful to look at but painful to cuddle.”

  She giggled, taking his arm as they continued their trek up the steep hill. “Have you ever considered living here, Sir?”

  He stopped and looked towards the ocean. “Maybe when we’re older and life has slowed down for us.”

  Brie snuggled against him. “Wouldn’t it be lovely walking these streets as a happy old couple?”

  He gazed down at her and smiled. “Yes, it would.”

  Sir led her to the apartment with the vivid red door Brie remembered well, and he knocked. From inside she heard the excited voices of numerous people. “It seems they’re expecting us this time.”

  Sir’s Aunt Fortuna, whom Brie had met on their first visit, opened the door wide and grabbed him. “Thane!” A flurry of Italian words followed, which obviously meant she was glad to see him. She ushered them inside, directing the two upstairs.

  At the top of the stairs stood Sir’s grandfather with his arms outstretched. “Nipotino!” There was excited chatter as other members of his family gathered around him, wanting to welcome Alonzo’s son home.

  Brie scooted to the side, watching the excitement, hoping someday she would be greeted with the same enthusiasm.

  “Brianna,” a gentle voice called behind her.

  She turned to see Sir’s grandmother grinning up at her. Brie bent down to give the frail woman a hug. Brie was surprised by the crushing strength of her embrace. She might be tiny and old, but the woman was strong—so much stronger than the last time they’d met.

  “It is so good to see you again,” Brie said. When she saw the look of confusion on the woman’s weathered face, she said hesitantly in Italian, “Buongiorno.”

  The old woman smiled and grabbed her cheeks, kissing her on the lips. “Buongiorno.” His grandmother then made her way through the crowd to greet her grandson.

  It was beautiful to watch, this apartment full of people who were thrilled to be in the presence of Sir. Not because of his reputation and many talents, but simply because he was family.

  Brie and Sir were taken up several flights of stairs, all the way to the roof, where tables had been set out for a meal. Brie and Sir were directed where to sit, and the men of the family sat down with them while the women disappeared back inside. They returned a few minutes later with platters upon platters of food.

  When all the ladies had set down the food and taken their seats, silence ensued.

  Brie looked at Sir and noticed that his head was bowed. She did the same and listened to the beautiful sounds of his grandfather’s prayer. A hearty “Amen” followed from all, and everyone dug in. Unlike the dinner at Isabella’s, Sir’s family served themselves. It was much less formal and much more to her liking.

  Although she could not follow much of the conversation, Brie kept hearing the word ‘matrimonio’ thrown around. The word for wedding was being said with joy and excitement, but she noticed that Sir’s grandmother was not happy. It showed in the woman’s face and in her voice.

  “What’s going on with your grandmother, Sir?” Brie asked.

  He sighed deeply. “We’re at an impasse.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “My grandmother wants us to get married in church. She’s not happy about my decision to have a civil ceremony.”

  This was the first Brie had heard anything about the wedding, and she pressed. “Civil ceremony, Sir?”

  “I see no point in getting married in a church when neither you nor I are believers. Hell, I’m still on the fence if there even is a God.”

  His grandmother started talking, the tone of her voice expressing her anger. Sir’s grandfather started in, and then the entire family began adding their two cents. It seemed they were very passionate about having a church wedding.

  His grandmother looked at Brie and said in disbelief, “No God?”

  Brie didn’t know how to respond but nodded her head. “I…believe there’s a God.”

  “Church?” the grandmother asked plaintively.

  Having never gone to church other than attending other people’s weddings or funerals, Brie could only shake her head no.

  His grandmother’s eyes grew wide and she started back on lecturing Sir. He stood up, his eyes flashing with anger as he argued with the tiny woman. Brie was shocked to see Sir react in such a way to his grandmother.

  What was supposed to be a joyous occasion seemed to be causing nothing but a terrible rift between them.

  “Sir,” Brie said quietly. When he didn’t respond, Brie said more loudly, touching his arm, “Sir.”

  He sat back down and took her hand in his. “What is it, Brie?”

  “If it would make your grandmother happy, I wouldn’t mind getting married in a church.”

  Sir sighed. “I appreciate the sentiment, babygirl, but you don’t understand. We are not allowed to get married in my grandparents’ church unless we are practicing Catholics.”

  Brie grinned, the tension in the air momentarily forgotten. “Does that mean we’re getting married here—in Italy?”

  He kissed her hand. “Yes, Brie, it does.”

  She broke out in a smile, looking over at his family, bursting with love for them. Without explanation, she got up and hugged each and every one, saving the last hug for Sir. “We’re getting married in Italy!”

  The family was unsure how to react to her joy in the midst of a heated argument. Sir explained. “They had no idea you didn’t know.”

  Brie smiled at them all, throwing together Italian words she knew, trying to express her joy. “Grande famiglia, ti amo.” She hoped it meant “Big family, I love you,” but their silence was dis
concerting.

  His grandfather stood up and put his arms out to her. Brie grinned as he enfolded her in his embrace. The conversation started up again, but with a much more loving tone. Brie looked over at Sir, her eyes brimming with happy tears.

  After the meal, Sir sat down with his grandparents, pulling out some papers from his suitcase and handing a set to them and to Brie. He told her, “Read it over carefully. This is what will be said at the ceremony. There’s nothing romantic about it, simply a dry list of what makes up a marriage. The government requires that it be recited in Italian, so I want you to read over the English version now so you understand what is being said.”

  His grandmother spat at the paper in disgust, handing it back to Sir, highly displeased.

  Brie looked the paper over and was surprised that it sounded more like a list of rules than wedding vows. “Are there any other scripts we can choose from?”

  “For our marriage to be legal, this is how it must be.”

  Brie looked through it again. There was only one point in the whole ceremony where she was expected to speak. “How do I say ‘I do’ in Italian, Sir?”

  He smiled. “Lo voglio.”

  All of the women in the room let out an audible, “Awww…”

  Brie blushed, repeating it several times until she had the pronunciation right. “So that’s all I need to do, just say ‘I do’ and we’re married?”

  “For a civil ceremony, yes.”

  She looked sympathetically at his grandmother, better understanding her displeasure. “Tell her it’s the love of the couple, not the ceremony that matters.”

  Sir translated her words.

  “How do I tell her it’s okay?” Brie asked.

  “Va bene.”

  She smiled at the old woman and said with passion, “Va bene.”

  His grandmother shook her head sadly, patting Brie on the hand.

  “Well, that went well,” Sir joked when they left hours later.

  “I love the idea of getting married here, Sir. It’s worth the discord with your family.”

  “We’re not getting married here, Brie.”

  Brie turned to face him. “No?”