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Arranged To The Bravta King 134
MariaI'm overwhelmed by a terrible smell that I can't describe. I take shallow breaths and hold my body very still. I'm held captive in my own body, my limbs heavy and immovable, as if I've been frozen in time. I have the impression that I'm falling, and it's odd. This sensation of being surrounded by rough, jagged hardness, though I can't reach out and touch the edges. I can feel them scratch me as my body rolls back and forth. I want it to stop, but it won't. I take deep breaths, trying hard to stave off the terror, but it only makes the sensation worse. I feel the walls pressing against my skin, almost crushing me. I want it to end, but I'm powerless to stop it.There is a jolt as if I've hit bottom, and the shock of a sudden stop reverberates through my bones. Everything around me is silent, and it becomes unbearable. I try to move, starting slowly by wiggling my fingers and tapping them against the hard surface. But when I try to lift my arm, it feels too heavy to move.No matte
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MariaI jolt awake from the sudden noise of glass breaking somewhere in the house. Having spent the night on the dining room floor, I sit up quickly. Holding myself still, I listen for movement, but it's silent again. That's not reassuring. Outside, it's an overcast morning. But for now, I'm still here and alive. I tug at the zip tie binding my ankle to the chair, and the chair's legs bang against the hardwood floor louder and louder as I desperately try to free myself. The plastic cuts into my skin, leaving red marks on my ankle and across my fingertips. I wince in pain but keep trying, wondering who will come through that door next.I freeze when the door opens, but when I see Mikhail, my tension deflates in a loud, pent-up breath."Maria." Mikhail takes hold of my shoulders and pulls my mouth hard against his. My eyes close as the relief of seeing him overcomes me. But we don't have time to stare into each other's eyes. He cuts the zip tie with a pocketknife and quickly releases me
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MikhailOur SUV idles on the shoulder of a two-lane highway, hidden by a thick grove of pine trees. In the distance, the ocean is visible to the left. A strip of churning blue between pale sand and a gray sky. I wait outside the vehicle in the chilly wind and watch the road for Pavel's vehicle. Rurik is not too far away, but his only job, for now, is to guard Larissa at their house. The guards I trust are combing through the shambles of the penthouse for clues and examining surveillance to identify the individuals who raided my home. I had to leave without Pavel after receiving Maria's message. I had to hurry to save her and trust Zakhar wouldn't try to kill me along the way.But who can I trust now? The tourists are long gone, and I stare down the empty highway as the wind picks up. The movement makes a soft chant in my ears and warns me not to repeat this mistake. Trusting people shouldn't be a mistake, but it is. But I don't have any other options. I spot the SUV approaching and li
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Maria"I'm not sure what to call you," I say plaintively. "Zakhar or Dad?" His hands tighten around the wheel as he drives us away from Manhattan and toward a safe house somewhere in North Jersey.I glance up at the rearview mirror and watch Mikhail in the back seat. He stares out the window, but he's listening. He's holding his jaw so tight it looks like it might crack into pieces. He's been ignoring me since my outburst, and a wedge of silence is slowly forming between us. I don't like it, but now's not the time to coax him out of it. I'll wait until we have some time alone at the safe house."What do you want to call me?" he asks, his voice tight as he stares straight ahead at the highway.I shrug my shoulders, knowing he's watching me from the corner of his eye. "Do you have a preference?" I ask lightly, sounding like a brat, but I have a right to be pissed. Why are they acting like I don't?"Maria, I'm still your father," he replies firmly. "That hasn't changed."I fold my arms t
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ZAKHAR19 YEARS AGO"Yes!" Gennady slams the glass desk with his fist, and I step back. "We've got them, Zakhar."One day, he'll break that glass top. Instead of meeting on the ninth floor as usual, I've been called to the penthouse. Tanya granted Gennady one room, facing the skyline and not the park, to use for an office. She disapproves of business being discussed around their children. Her concern makes me laugh. Desmier is a wild teenager, and the other two show no interest in Daddy's business."Who do we have?" I ask, sitting down in the chair in front of his desk."The Lanzzare," he beams. "Alexander, the crafty devil, has found a dirty secret on them." Gennady sits down, smiling like a victor on his throne. "He's discovered a shipping company run by a Raymond D'Artello, and the company is a critical operation. After a little snooping, we suspect the Lanzzare are skimming from us and other organizations. Everyone. Russians. Italian. Even the fucking Chinese."I shake my head. "I
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ZAKHARI spent last night with Aria in the building, listening to the traffic pass by the building. Locked in the office, we made love again and again. She looked beautiful, even wrapped in a shipping blanket. I told her I would risk her coming out to Long Island for the weekend. I often spend weekends alone in a rented house to wind down from the city. I must have smiled like an oblivious fool when she agreed.I enter the penthouse, and instantly, I can tell that something is off. It's too quiet though the staff are about. Sure, they work in silence, but today, they're taking great lengths not to make any noise, as if they're tiptoeing past a sleeping lion. I glance over at the living room couch, and little Mikhail is sitting slumped against it. He stares at a screen in his hands. His sketchbook is closed and untouched, and he has a worried scowl on his face."No greeting today, Kolya?" I ask him.He looks up with a green gaze on the verge of tears. He looks quickly away and swallows
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ZAKHARI try my best to stop Aria, begging her to slow down or at least stop hitting our trucks. She laughs as I beg, her lips touching my bare skin, and then I start begging for other things. We meet in my little rented beach house, and I leave her safely in bed as I rush to the city.I don't understand the text.The elevator doors open, and I hurry into the office to find Gennady pacing."What is it? What has happened?""I sent my boy," he replies, and I frown in confusion. "I sent Desmier to carry out the hit against D'Artello. I have intel from Gunsyn that D'Artello is in Secaucus."I shake my head, knowing it's not true, but I can't say how I know. "I should be there." I dash out of the office before Gennady can tell me to come back. All types of scenarios flash into my head. Each one is worse than the next, but I wasn't planning to see what I saw.The building in Secaucus is surrounded by vehicles, and I risk getting hit as I dash across the busy highway. From outside, I hear sh
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Maria "A year later, the news of my marriage to Aria Genovesi and my baby was revealed by an envious Alexander to Gennady when I was promoted to Avtoritet. Aria and I were forced to flee from my Long Island mansion, a gift from Gennady to me for loyal service."When Dad finishes, he places his face in his hands, hiding his pain, and I rub his back, trying so hard to make him not remember the horrible day I needed to know about."I was desperate and turned to Alexander," he continues. "He was my sworn brother. I asked for his help, unaware of his deceit and jealousy. Alexander offers us his safe house to hide in. I didn't realize he had ratted me out. Gennady was furious about the deceit, and they hunted us down."I'm sorry, Maria, for keeping this secret," he says, his voice muffled by his hands. "This is why I don't want you to marry." He lifts his head and eyes Mikhail, who is obviously angered by what he has heard. "I'm watching you commit the same mistake your mother did.""I'm n
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Arranged To The Bravta King 175
MariaThe scent of blooming lilacs fills the air as I stand on the terrace at the Barinov Estate. Their home is the perfect backdrop for me and Mikhail to exchange our vows. Spring has arrived, and with it, a sense of rebirth. The rose garden is in bloom with lavender and pink roses that scent the misty air as I hurry across the lawn and enter an opulent ballroom.The chandeliers cast circles of light on the polished floor, and the sheer drapes billow over the casement windows. I smile at the murals of angels painted on the ceiling above my head and soak in the joy that being here gives me. The staff starts to hurry in to set the room up for our nuptials, and maybe I should go upstairs to change.Dad stands in the main hall dressed in a tux. The tiredness has left his expression, and he looks younger now that we have no secrets. I hurry over to him and hug him tight. He holds me, but his smile is tinged with sadness. "Maria, I spoke to Mikhail. I'll be announcing my retirement from th
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MikhailTHREE MONTHS LATER"Are you sure you want to do this?" I ask Maria. Though it had nothing to do with me, I feel responsible. It was my Bratva that murdered Maria's mother. Men that my father trusted."Yes," she replies, staring straight ahead. "I have to have closure."We've traveled to the area where Aria was killed behind a safe house. Zakhar leads the way, searching for the spot. The tall maple trees surround the isolated house with boarded-up windows. Behind it, a faint path winds its way deeper into the woods, and overgrown bushes make it a challenge not to get lost. Eventually, the path leads to a small clearing containing a rotting tree stump.There's an eerie silence hanging over the area, as if nature was holding its breath. I take a deep breath in and stare at the tangled branches high over our heads. Maria stands beside me, her hand trembling in mine."We separated here." Zakhar stops beside the unassuming tree stump. It doesn't look like it should be anyone's final
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MariaThe delivery room is a battleground, and I'm the one fighting for a life. Sweat beads on my forehead as another contraction rips through me. My fingers grip Mikhail's hand tightly, seeking comfort in the strength of his grip. I feel his concern like an electric current crackling between us as he says words of encouragement, urging me on."Push, Maria. You're almost there," he says. His voice is strong and steady, even though worry is etched into his handsome features. Those intense eyes have seen so much violence and bloodshed, and now they're fixed on me. Mikhail has been by my side every step of the way, our relationship forged in danger. And now, we're about to create something beautiful out of it all."Maria, you're doing great," Dr. Galano chimes in, her tone professional but warm. "One more big push and you'll meet your daughter."My body tenses with the effort, and I think back to how we got here. Nights spent tangled in each other's arms, trying to forget the chaos of th
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MikhailThe room is silent as Zakhar reveals the pain he has felt for decades while hiding himself and Maria away. He sits down heavily, and I place a hand on his shoulder, understanding his desperation for his daughter and accepting the honor of his blessing.Sorokin slams the gavel down again and says, "I'm glad to know that you will willingly accept your fate, Zakhar Sergeyevich." He looks at Maria and me, his lip set in a scowl. But then Sorokin glances away and hesitates, almost as if he regrets what he has to say. "The oath has been broken, and our original judgment stands ..."Maria stiffens and reaches for my hand. "No," she whispers, "I can't lose everything I love. I won't." She looks at me, her eyes wide and desperate for reassurance. "Mikhail ... no."Behind us the doors burst open, and Zhanna strides in, flanked by several women of the Bratva. Paige Barinov, Natasha Chuikov, Sonia Karamazov, and my own sister, Larissa. The men fall silent as the women make their way towar
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MikhailWe agreed to meet on neutral territory, and the Poconos was mentioned briefly, but the Barinov Estate was chosen instead.The drive through the woods reminds me too much of driving to Sorokin's castle, but I'm relieved when two large gates open, revealing a red brick mansion. Yes, the sprawling structure is formidable, but the house is trimmed in holiday lights, and the remnants of a snowman guard the front door.The mansion has a lightness to it, which brings hope. Bright light floods the hall, bouquets decorate every table I pass, and the white marble floors are cleaned to a high gloss. Views of the gardens covered in snow are visible from the window, and a few children play outside, bundled up against the cold.I'm led by a guard to the furthest wing of the house, where I find a set of double doors. I feel hopeful until I'm shown into the dining room. My heart sinks as if it were tied to a boulder and thrown into the ocean. Contrary to my expectation of a bright and open sp
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MariaThe dark road seems familiar to me, but I'm not sure why I have this feeling of déjà vu. "Where are we going?" I ask my father as his truck navigates through traffic past the dirty piles of snow."Back to the inn," replies Dad. "We've been requested to come to a meeting." Dad's mouth is tight as he concentrates on the route.My heart skips a beat, but I keep my warring emotions inside."You don't look happy about it," I reply softly."Sorokin knows how Gunsyn died," he replies. "Mikhail and I are oath breakers. Sorokin has every right to kill us both. But we're getting a hearing instead.""That's good, isn't it?" I ask, confused."Yes and no." Dad sighs loudly as he slows down for the exit. "Maria, you have to accept that things might not end in our favor. If something happens to me, you're to go live with your uncle Vito. The feud is over, so you'll both be safe.""Nothing bad will happen." I lower my voice and grip the seat to steady my nerves. "You and Mikhail did what you sa
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MariaCHRISTMAS NIGHTIt's only eight thirty on Christmas night, and all day I haven't been in the mood for presents or holiday cheer. I finally give up and go upstairs to sit by my bedroom window. I don't have the energy or desire to do more than watch the snowflakes fall gently to the ground below. I glance over at the closed door and feel a little guilty for not being downstairs. But I can't imagine Dad is too eager to keep celebrating either. The last time I saw him he was sitting in the kitchen listening to a true crime podcast.I take a look around at the hot pink walls, the neatly arranged art books, and the plush stuffed animals on my twin bed.Nothing's changed in my pretty cage, except for me.Soon, I'll have a little girl of my own. I stare at the latest sonogram pictures again and that's the only thing that makes me smile.The world outside is cold and unforgiving, but it's warm and safe in here. In Holtsville, my father will keep me safely tucked away from what's out ther
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MikhailThe penthouse is a mausoleum of her memories, taunting me wherever I look. I stare at the spiral staircase, waiting for Maria to come down. I wait, hoping I'm wrong, but I know she'll never appear. I wander aimlessly up the stairs into her old bedroom, and my gaze falls on the Kuzma Fedorov painting I gave her. I remember that day and how proud Maria was to tell me it was hanging upside down.I, the art expert, was being schooled by a woman who had only seen art in books.But Maria spotted the hidden image of the face in the brushstrokes so clearly. The same way she spotted the light imprints in my father's journals. The same way that she still spotted a glimpse of the man I could have been.I close my eyes, dreaming that when I open them, she'll still be next to me. But I turn and the fantasy gives way to harsh reality.Many of the paintings I owned were destroyed during the attack. And I haven't stepped into my office since she left. I haven't touched a pencil, a pen, or a b
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MariaCHRISTMAS EVEA few cards sit on the mantel among a twisty wire of bright lights. The Christmas tree stands in one corner, its branches covered in twinkling lights and ornaments from the attic. For the first time in a long while, the living room furniture is draped in cozy red-and-green throws, and a plush white rug adds to the holiday style. The scent of cinnamon and cloves fills the air downstairs, but none of this is enough to put me in the mood.The only thing that makes me smile is a sonogram of my baby propped up on the mantelpiece.Dad sits in the kitchen wrapping gifts. The sound of paper folding and the cut and the hiss of tape being pulled off the spool is calming, like white noise. I stare at the colorful presents crowded under the tree with big loopy bows.I want to care that Christmas is tomorrow, but I just don't.It's hard to care when I can only think about Mikhail."You don't mind that they're coming over?" Dad enters the room, picking at a roll of tape, trying
