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Arranged To The Bravta King Fifty
MariaSomething about Mikhail has changed.There's something different in the way he looks—no, glares—at me. He seems to go out of his way not to be around, like I'm chasing him out of his own home. Ironic since I'm not allowed to leave. I feel him drifting away from me, and I don't know why. His reluctance to share what's happening in his head is frustrating, and it scares me.Mikhail sits across from me in the living room, and his eyes focus on something outside the window. It's late afternoon, and he hasn't been out. He looks good in just a button-down shirt with no tie and gray pants. I stare at him until he looks, and then I quickly look away."Hey." My voice squeaks with doubt. "Is everything okay?"Mikhail hesitates for a moment before turning to face me. His icy stare sends a nasty shock through my system, and I lean back hard against the couch. "Yes," he replies coolly."Are you sure?" I ask impatiently."Maria, it's fine," he insists, though I see blankness in his eyes.One
Arranged To The Bravta King Fifty-One
MariaI look past Mikhail's head, and Mercy has positioned herself out of his line of sight. She holds a small pink smartphone to her ear, making sure I notice it, and then she walks off to the bathroom."I have to pee," I blurt out.Mikhail eyes me oddly as if I'm unwell. He nods as if I need his permission to go. I get up slowly, carefully making my way to the dim hallway that leads to the bathrooms. My knees threaten to buckle, but I make it inside the ladies' room.Oh God, why aren't I running out of here screaming?"What. The. Fuck," Mercy whispers as she pulls me inside. "Do you have any idea who that is?"I nod. "I already told you ..."She cuts me off. "Why did you bring him here? Y'know what? Never mind. Take this."Mercy tries to hand me the phone, but I don't take it. Right now, getting caught is more frightening than anything else. I've seen how Mikhail handles a knife."I can't ..." I whisper."Michael is freaking the fuck out all over the effing town," Mercy pants and pa
Arranged To The Bravta King Fifty-Two
MariaWe ride the elevator to the penthouse like strangers who haven't been introduced. Mikhail stands in one corner while I lean into the other. I don't dare look at him, but I can sense him glaring at me periodically.I could've introduced Mikhail to Mercy. But I sat there like a terrified lump and said nothing. The last time I saw Mercy, I told her I was in trouble. Now she finally saw why.Mercy is always fearless, with a sassy mouth. But not tonight.She looked scared out of her mind. But behind the fear, there was unmistakable hate. She kept glancing over at Mikhail the rest of the evening, but he ignored her.Like a coward without a spine, I kept the peace by staying silent. Why? I should've said something. I should've stood up for her. Why didn't I?I keep my eyes on the floor as the elevator continues moving.The truth is, I know if I had done anything other than staying quiet, Mikhail would've shot the bar to pieces to get me back. Mercy knew who Mikhail was. I remember her
Arranged To The Bravta King Fifty-Three
MariaThe warmth near the windows grows unbearably hot in the late afternoon, even with the central air blasting, when I descend the spiral staircase. The heavy drapes are pulled across the windows to block out the sun.I know that two people on staff—their routine dictated by the sun—are tasked with monitoring the indoor climate to preserve Mikhail's collection. I know that Mikhail won't be home for hours based on the position of the drapes in the living room. A creature of habit, he leaves at midday and doesn't return until dark when the drapes are pulled back again.But the warmth isn't why my palms are sweaty.I wipe them down the front of my T-shirt before opening the office door. I know what Mikhail will think if he catches me, but I have no intention of sitting around and waiting for the other shoe to drop. Not anymore.While he's out causing chaos, I will find a phone to call my father.Closing my eyes, I inhale deeply to keep my hands from trembling when I grasp the doorknob.
Arranged To The Bravta King Fifty-Four
MariaMy father stands beside a young Mikhail, and another man is beside him. From the looks of the photograph, they're out in the country somewhere. But unlike the familiar dour face I grew up with, my father is smiling here, practically laughing. His arm is slung around the other man like they're old friends."What the fuck?" I whisper. "Is this a sick joke?"It has to be a joke. A fake created with AI. It has to be! I turn it over, and the only word written on it is Poconos. What does that even mean? My father doesn't go to the Poconos. He doesn't camp. He despises sleeping outdoors. When I asked to go camping in the sixth grade, he set up a tent in the living room instead of letting me sleep outside in the backyard.And just who else is in the picture with him? Could it be Mikhail's dad? But how? How does my father know them? There has to be a logical explanation. I look at the photo one last time, ignore my pounding heart, and shove it away with the rest.The simplest explanation
Arranged To The Bravta King Fifty-Five
MikhailWhen I return home, Maria lies across the couch on her stomach, reading a book on Matisse. Her bare feet stick up in the air from a ridiculous peacock-green dress.She doesn't wear dresses like that—dresses that make her look this sexy.It stops me from demanding to know why she's here, waiting for me again. She glances over at me but says nothing. Her chin is balanced on one hand as she turns another page. I loosen my tie, feeling the heat dissipate from my body. This time I didn't do the dirty work, letting Rurik dole out the lessons in his stoic, efficient style instead."What are you doing up?" I toss my tie onto the coffee table.Maria keeps her eyes on the book. "I lost track of time.""You should be asleep," I say severely.She ignores me and flips another page. Her delicate fingers glide over the glossy surface as she takes more interest in the colorful illustration than in me.I know she's still angry with me, and I'm glad we have nothing to say to one another. I don'
Arranged To The Bravta King Fifty-Six
Mikhail"Don't turn this on me." Her tears are no longer from fear but anger. "You don't trust me. You never have, and you never will. I want to prove it to you. But you won't let me. You refuse to believe anything else—right or wrong." Maria's gaze locks on mine. "Don't push me away because you're afraid to be wrong, Mikhail."I freeze in place, staring at her. Afraid. The word stings, then ignites a fire that rips through me. I'm not afraid, am I? Yet I balance precariously between my desire for her and the fear of getting too close. Instead, I challenge her."Why should I trust you, Maria?" I whisper. "Because you're the innocent one?"Our gazes lock, and I see something in hers—a longing that reflects mine. That energy pulls us closer, and it takes every ounce of my control not to reach out and touch her.Her anger lessens as she leans against the door. "I'm not trying to trick you, Mikhail. I don't know how."My gaze consumes every detail of her face, the curve of her lips as she
Arranged To The Bravta King Fifty-Seven
Maria"Do you want to come, Maria?" I nibble at her ear.She nods, her eyes squeezed shut."Beg for it."Maria lets out a whimper. "Please," she gasps. "Please make me come.""Not make." I stop my movements, but her hips continue to buck. "Let.""Please let me come," she pants immediately.I reward her obedience with pleasure, working my fingers in and out of her and moving them faster. I press my thumb against her clit and rub hard circles around the sensitive bump. She cries out, and I feel her pussy squeezing around my fingers as she comes. Her juices coat my hand, and I pull my fingers out.I pull her hair, so she has to turn and watch me lick each one clean. I hold onto Maria as she slowly returns to earth from her orgasm.I push up from the desk then press my hand against her back. Maria stays where she is, bent over the desk, her dress hiked up and her panties pulled aside. I unzip my pants and pull out my hard cock. The tight skin glistens as I give the tip—throbbing with pre-
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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
