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Arranged To The Bravta King 158
MariaI'm led through the hallways of Sorokin's mansion by his elderly butler. I've discovered his home isn't an actual castle made of blocks of carved stone piled sky-high. Only the exterior mimics an ancient stone structure pictured in a history book. The modern interior is constructed of plaster walls and wood floors to look old. But nonetheless, the enormous interior is a maze of rooms and difficult to navigate without help.I brace myself for whatever waits behind the large double doors we're quickly approaching. The doors open to reveal a surprisingly cheerful conservatory, and I hear laughter before I see Sorokin's guests. The man himself is nowhere in sight, and my shoulders relax. Natasha Chuikov smiles when she spots me and stands, revealing her sleek figure in a navy suit tailored like a man's.I nod at her, but my gaze goes straight to the woman sitting beside her, who turns to look at me."Maria Zakharovna Budanov," Natasha introduces us in a direct manner. "This is Paige
Last Updated : 2024-09-27Arranged To The Bravta King 159
MariaWe step out into the long hallway. Paige walks in the direction of the front hall as I follow Natasha to a back door that is heavily guarded. We step outside into the crisp autumn air and the scent of fallen leaves mingling with the distant sound of birds. The estate sprawls before me, and Natasha guides me toward a secluded building."The estate is well-guarded," Natasha says as we approach the range. "You won't get anywhere on foot."We step into the building—the ceiling is low, but the length of the building is long. Individual stalls are set up with dividers in between. At the end of the stall is a target. "First lesson: firearms are not accessories," says Natasha. "They're tools and demand respect, so don't aim unless you intend to shoot." She hands me a sleek handgun, surprisingly heavy in my grip. "This is a Glock 19. It's reliable, accurate, and easy to use."I turn the gun over in my hands, suddenly hyper-aware of every movement I make. "Okay." I steady my hands. "What
Last Updated : 2024-09-27Arranged To The Bravta King 160
MikhailThe crack of gunfire reverberates off the walls of an abandoned mall, drowning out the frantic shouting inside. Shattered glass and debris litter the floor as men stomp through storefronts with bare shelves. Flashes of gunfire light up the darkness, casting eerie shadows on graffiti-covered walls. A blast punctuates the panicked screams of those caught in the crossfire.On an upper level, I stand beside Zakhar, watching as my trustworthy men, fueled by the Lanzzare's additional firepower, carry out our war against Gunsyn with ruthless efficiency. The scene is frenzied yet calculated among the mildewed building debris. Calmly, I watch a clash of destruction orchestrated by an expert plan.Tense, I observe from a distance like a general not allowed to race into the fray. I clutch my hands around night-vision binoculars and force my feet to stay planted where they are. Apparently, Gunsyn has also chosen to stay out of the line of fire. But if I see him, I will run into the madnes
Last Updated : 2024-09-27Arranged To The Bravta King 161
MariaThe penthouse was like living in a gallery, but living in the castle is like living in a museum. I wander freely from room to room, and the only thing that stops me is the occasional locked door. I admire paintings of landscapes and saints that are centuries old. Paintings in carved gold frames of bearded men in cloaks, caught in the throes of ecstasy. Landscapes of the West when it was first settled. I gasp loudly when I find a room of Madonnas. A wall covered in icons, ancient and breathtaking.I walk in a trance toward the serene faces and smell a whiff of incense in the air.But a guard materializes like magic when I step too close to a door leading to the outside. I'm always reminded when I forget I'm not really a guest. My life is ironic. I made plans to find freedom and ended up being held captive. A pawn in a strategy controlled by a Bratva I didn't know existed.I laugh bitterly at a painting of a small, naive girl holding a bouquet. Well, I wanted to spend my days visi
Last Updated : 2024-09-27Arranged To The Bravta King 162
MariaAs I crouch behind the tapestry, I listen intently for any signs of movement. The sound of footsteps comes nearer, and I hold my breath, praying they'll keep going. For a moment, it seems like they have, but then I hear a low chuckle.The voice says something in Russian, taunting me as its owner searches. My heart leaps to my throat. Bitter fear fills my mouth as my breath quickens.Panic won't save me, only action. As I prepare to face whatever is out there, I hear a single gunshot and then a voice. "Ublyudki!" Natasha sneers before I hear her footsteps run away. I slip out from behind the tapestry and tiptoe down the corridor, searching for her.The back door is wide open, and she must have headed for the range. I run full speed toward the low, squat building, ignoring the cold on the soles of my feet. The door is open, and I get on the ground, crawling, alert to any movement. As I approach the stalls, I hear the unmistakable sound of gunshots echoing. I hold my breath and for
Last Updated : 2024-09-27Arranged To The Bravta King 163
MariaNo one tells me where I'm going. I am shuttled around like an unwanted child from relative to relative. My lips tighten into a scowl as the SUV heads south, and I know enough to know that they are not returning me to Mikhail. The SUV exits the Thruway and passes through a small town. Nothing is exciting or unusual to see—strip malls and fast food. I wonder if I will be kept in another warehouse like a cardboard box stacked on a shelf.Sorokin's estate received a lot of damage from Gunsyn's ill-fated attack. Only a few men were able to penetrate the house itself, but they did serious damage to the exterior and, from what I understand, set fire to a few outer buildings. Sorokin didn't experience the heavy losses that Gunsyn did, but Gunsyn got away.In a sick way, he has emerged the winner in spite of a failed attack.My brow furrows when I think about that coward escaping again. I wanted Sorokin to catch him. I would've demanded that I be allowed to watch while he was tortured. M
Last Updated : 2024-09-27Arranged To The Bravta King 164
MikhailI return to the Lanzzare mansion, unsure of the reception I'll receive. Christian Genovesi looked delighted to get rid of me the last time I was here. A bodyguard opens the door and immediately steps aside to let me in. At least the truce is still intact after all these weeks. Waiting in the hall, I look around the mansion, opulent but impersonal. A show of wealth without any personality. It feels cold and sterile, like a showroom rather than a lived-in home.The bodyguard shows me into the living room, and I look even closer. The furniture is sleek and modern, with no signs of wear or use. It almost feels more like a luxurious film set than a lived-in space. I keep displays of my personal life hidden, as anyone in my position would. But this is different.Christian enters the room, increasing the atmosphere of pretentiousness and artificiality."Mikhail," he grasps my hand before sitting across from me. "What brings you back? Is there something else we can help you with?""Ye
Last Updated : 2024-09-27Arranged To The Bravta King 165
MikhailWe turn off the Thruway and begin our approach to Sorokin's estate. The castle comes into view before we pass through the iron gates. After Gunsyn's ill-fated attack, trespassing is not tolerated. At the gatehouse, we are made to step out of the SUV and are patted down thoroughly. The SUV is then left at the gate, while a different car takes us deeper inside.We're shown in without much fanfare and taken immediately to the dining room, and as we walk, I look around for Maria. My gaze shifts to the top of the stairs, hoping to see her. Even a glimpse. But if I see Maria, I risk doing something stupid and rash. I have to be cautious. So, I shove my anger down my throat, swallow it, and force it to stay in my gut. She's carrying my baby, and I will repeat those words to myself whenever my anger threatens to appear.Sorokin, Popov, and Dmitri are waiting in the dining room, and their expressions are as grim as the atmosphere. Their judgment of me is already decided as I sit down.
Last Updated : 2024-09-27
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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
Arranged To The Bravta King 169
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
