My Rival, My Temptation - Chapter 9: Chapter 9

Nikolai’s POV
Annoying.
That was the first word that came to mind whenever I thought of Ekaterina, or Katherine like everyone else called her.
And unfortunately, I thought about her too often.
You would think I’d have gotten used to it by now. The irritation. The sheer exasperation that came with being in Ekaterina’s presence. But no, she remained as insufferable as ever, like a splinter I could never quite dig out.
After years of being forced into the same circles, of watching her prance around my father’s house like she owned it, I thought I would have grown immune to the effect she had on my nerves. But no. Every single time I found myself in her presence, I felt the same sharp, grating annoyance claw at me like nails on glass.
She was too much.
Too loud. Too inquisitive. Too unpredictable.
Too Ekaterina.
I had known her since we were children, yet she still managed to find new and inventive ways to annoy me even without saying a word. It was almost impressive. Almost.
Everything about her was the exact opposite of what I wanted in a woman.
Her hair was too red. Not the kind of red that could be called auburn or chestnut to make it sound a bit demure—no, hers was the kind that looked like it had been set on fire. It was a shade so violently bright it seemed to defy nature itself. It made heads turn whenever she walked into the room. And she liked it. If anything, she played it up, styling it in ways that made it even louder.
Then there were her eyes. That ridiculous, striking green that always seemed to glow with amusement, curiosity, or mischief—emotions she had far too much of. Her freckles were just as bad. Scattered across her face like a constellation of trouble, as if even her own skin couldn’t stay in line.
Those dots made her look deceptively harmless, like some storybook character, when in reality, she was a menace.
And don’t even get me started on her clothes.
This morning, she had chosen to wear mismatched socks with heels. Suspender shorts. I had no idea where she even found half the things she wore, but I had no doubt she went out of her way to look as ridiculous as possible. She would probably call it “fashion” or some other nonsense, but I knew better.
Ekaterina liked to stand out. She liked attention.
She was like staring at the sun—blinding, overwhelming, unavoidable. And I hated staring at the sun. It gave me a headache.
It had been that way ever since we were kids. She was always entering rooms. Bursting into conversations. Sticking her nose where it didn’t belong. Acting like a spoiled little brat—which, to be fair, she was.
That was why I had known—knew—without a doubt that she was the worst possible match for me.
And yet, somehow, I was the one stuck with her.
Married to her.
Married.
I still couldn’t believe my father had forced me into this. Of all the women in the world, he had picked her. The one woman I would never have chosen for myself.
Ekaterina was a firecracker, and I had spent my entire life avoiding the kind of woman who would burn me.
I liked compliance. Obedience. A quiet sort of grace. Women who understood power dynamics and didn’t challenge me at every turn.
Ekaterina was the least compliant woman on the planet.
But I had a plan.
If I played my cards right, if I kept up appearances for a year and produced an heir, my father wouldn’t care what happened afterward. He wasn’t exactly a model of traditional family values. His two children—myself and Alexei—came from two different women, neither of whom he had married.
So really, he had no right to dictate anything about my personal life.
He just wanted the family name to continue.
And once I gave him that, I could walk away.
A year. That’s all I had to endure.
But enduring it would be a challenge.
Because the worst part of being around Ekaterina wasn’t her ridiculous clothes or her constant talking or even the way she strutted through life like she owned it.
It was the fact that she made me act like a damn teenager.
She made me talk more than I wanted to.
Made me react. Made me engage.
Ignoring her would have been the easiest path forward, but I knew that was exactly what she wanted. And if there was one thing I refused to do, it was make this marriage comfortable for her.
So I would annoy her. I would push her buttons. I would make sure she hated this even more than I did, because for some reason, I seemed to get off on pissing her off.
As I left her room, I wondered how the hell we were supposed to survive an entire year without killing each other.
And I hated that I was looking forward to finding out.
—————
Downstairs, my guards were already waiting.
I walked up to Viktor and Leonid, the two I was leaving behind. Both men were built like walls—tall, broad, and deadly. They had been with the family for years, and they knew better than to fail me.
“You are to watch my wife,” I said flatly. “She is not to leave the villa without you.”
They both nodded in unison. “Understood.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Not just follow her. Watch her. Keep her in your sight at all times.”
A flash of amusement crossed Viktor’s face. “You don’t trust her?”
I didn’t dignify that with a response.
Of course I didn’t trust her.
Ekaterina was the type to sneak out the second she thought no one was looking. She had no sense of self-preservation.
“She so much as steps out of line, you call me,” I ordered. “If you lose sight of her, there will be consequences.”
Leonid inclined his head. “She won’t get far.”
Good.
Satisfied, I turned to Dmitri and Mikhail, the two guards coming with me.
“We’re leaving.”
They fell into step behind me as I walked out to the car.
As I slid into the backseat, I glanced once more at the villa behind me.
Ekaterina probably thought I had picked the Amalfi Coast for the views.
She probably thought this entire honeymoon was just a show.
And maybe, on the surface, it was.
But that wasn’t the reason I was here.
And as long as I could help it, she would never know the real one.