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Arranged To The Bravta King Prologue
"Be fast, zhena," My husband says as he waves me over. I hurry in the dark, trying not to jostle our baby awake as I hold the precious bundle of joy tight against my chest. The penalty for noise is death, and even the sound of my heart hammering against my chest seems too loud.Just another few moments until we're free.Behind us, the hateful mansion's soaring stone towers rise in the distance.Hard and unfeeling like their owner's heart, they are meant to convey beauty and elegance. But in the darkness lit by starlight, all I see are the horns of the devil looming over us.A light blinks to life, and I try not to panic as its dim, searching eye sweeps across the grounds.And then I hear it.Barking in the distance. A man shouts in Russian.My husband turns suddenly in the direction of the noise. My throat closes like a vise, and I draw in a deep measure of harsh, cold air as the bottom drops out of my stomach.They're getting closer.The barking comes closer, and I swear I can hear t
Arranged To The Bravta King One.
MariaMy heart races from excitement even as my breath slows down. I pass several streets, occasionally stopping to listen for approaching footsteps, or worse, Dad’s Ford truck.But tonight, I’m lucky.Soon, I hear music and laughter coming from my friend Diana’s house at the end of Clover Road.Party time.I grin like a fool, thinking about how much fun I will have tonight. I should feel guilty, but I won’t. It’s my high school graduation, for fuck’s sake, and I have a right to celebrate.As I approach the house, laughter and music spill out from the open front door, welcoming me inside. I slip into the house and instantly start smiling at the crazy energy of my friends and classmates as they jam out to vintage late 90s and early 2000s music.A small group of people stand by the pool, drinking beer and laughing loudly. I take a deep breath and walk toward them, grabbing a Coors from an open cooler as I try to blend in.“Maria Rostova, as I live and breathe!” Diana squeals in delight
Arranged To The Bravta King Two.
Maria"I don't want you to get hurt, Maria."Dad opens the passenger's side door when we get home. He stares at me, and I sit there with my arms folded as if I could defy him. But slowly, my resolve crumbles, and I leap out of the truck, running past him to the front door. It's pathetic. I have to wait for him to open the door because I don't have a key."There are things I need to protect you from," he replies, unlocking the door. "Things you don't know about.""Then tell me!" I demand. "You can't keep me in the dark forever! It's my life you're ruining, not yours!""You're like your mother," he says quietly, taking in a ragged breath. "Maybe I wouldn't worry about losing you if she was still here."He always wins our arguments when he mentions her. He told me that she passed away from cancer when I was still a baby, long before I could even form any memories. But whenever I ask for any details, he never goes into it.Almost as if he can't bear to.Dad has raised me by himself my ent
Arranged To The Bravta King Three.
MariaThe moment I step off the bus, I'm hit by a blast of humidity in the face. I'd pause, but everybody is moving fast, and I'm trying to keep up as I exit the Port Authority. I speed walk as if I know where I'm going, and I hope I do. Times Square is like stepping into another world, with bright colors and Broadway billboards over my head. For a moment, I stand still on the sidewalk, soaking in the chaos surrounding me. It's exhilarating and overwhelming all at once—until a woman jostles me out of her way.Stay focused, Maria. Stop acting like a tourist.I start moving again, looking for a pay phone, but they must only exist on old TV shows. I pull the card with Mercy's address out of my pocket and start walking, not entirely sure how I will actually get there.I'm hoping I can stay with my cousin for a little while. I've never been sure how we're related, but we've called each other "cousin" since we were babies.Until Dad stopped us from talking.I try to keep pace, walking on pa
Arranged To The Bravta King Four.
MariaIt doesn't take long for me to get to the address on Mercy's card, and true to Mikhail's words, it's a bar. The name "Somewhere Bar" is lit up by neon lights, and even though it's not too far from Times Square, it looks surprisingly empty.I wonder if I've made a mistake when I spot her red hair—same as mine—before she sees me. I wave at her like a fool, and her dark eyes narrow on me for a moment before they light up with recognition. She coughs and tosses her cigarette to the ground."Maria!" she calls out. "What the hell! What are you doing here?""Hey, Mercy!" I shout back, dodging a pedestrian to reach her.Mercy wraps me in a tight hug. Her welcome is the reassurance I need right now. She steps back and looks me hard in the eyes. "Where's your dad?"I swallow hard. "I ran away.""Ran away?" She laughs loudly, verging on a coughing fit. "You're eighteen, for Chrissake. Call it what it is: you left home." She gives me another bear hug before pulling back, smiling."Well, you
Arranged To The Bravta King Five.
MikhailI stand tall in the dusty and stuffy anteroom of Sorokin Castle, my heart racing as I adjust the cuffs of my Saville Row suit. My reflection stares back at me in the mirror and I try hard not to grimace.For years, I've both anticipated and dreaded this moment. And with my father, Gennady's, recent passing, it somehow doesn't feel real.Inhaling, I exit the small room and enter the grand hall where my coronation is taking place. I kneel before the head of an ornate conference table and lift my head to heaven while the others remain standing. Grigori Schevchenko, the priest, nods and begins the liturgy of ascension, reciting the familiar words as my late father's gun is placed before me."You care for no one but the Bratva," he drones. "And you shall love none other than the Bratva."This was never supposed to be my burden, I think bitterly as I repeat the words. It was always supposed to be yours, Desmier.Father lost the son he loved—the son he always wanted to pass the Bratv
Arranged To The Bravta King Six.
MikhailA dark cloud lingers over my thoughts. Andrei Barinov's war has put unnecessary scrutiny over all of the Bratvas of the East Coast. A web of violence and deceit is slowly unfurling, and the threat of outside interference has only grown in the months since. To prepare, Father and I had begun a massive recruitment and armament drive. But his untimely death threatens to throw the entire thing off balance.And with the Lanzzare circling like sharks around us, looking for any and all moments of weakness, there is not a moment of rest to be had.Our conversation continues, and the brigadiers each rattle off information about our manpower, reserves, and operations. Each bit of news is accompanied by praise for my father and flattery for me, but I see through their attempts. They're probing me to gauge my reaction. But they played their hand already when Gunsyn disrespected me the moment I walked into my own home.And when it is time for them to leave, I gaze at the eastern horizon, p
Arranged To The Bravta King Seven.
MariaI run up the subway stairs and out onto the busy streets of SoHo, clutching the card from Mikhail the other night. The city buzzes around me, making my heart race with excitement. I'm going to my first contemporary art gallery! It's a feeling I've never experienced before, and I feel giddy on the inside while doing my best to keep my cool on the outside.My gaze is drawn to a sleek concrete and glass building with teal banners above the door, displaying the name "Chrysanthea" in bold gold letters. This is it. I stare at the abstract painting in the window by Kimoto Kaori, briefly wondering if I might actually meet her. I step inside, immediately captivated by her work adorning the walls.The air-conditioned space is a welcome relief from the humid summer heat. The room is alive with the hum of other patrons commenting on the art on display. Finally, I have found my tribe.I feel a sense of pride for going out alone and avoiding Mercy's club scene. The low lights and loud music w
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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
Arranged To The Bravta King 174
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
Arranged To The Bravta King 173
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
Arranged To The Bravta King 172
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
Arranged To The Bravta King 171
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
Arranged To The Bravta King 170
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
Arranged To The Bravta King 168
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
Arranged To The Bravta King 167
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
