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Sixty-Four
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Arranged To The Bravta King Sixty-Five
MariaI sleep through the night, maybe for the first time in weeks since Mikhail last touched me. It feels normal here, and for a brief moment, I pretend I'm home again as I listen to nature outside my window—birds chirping back and forth and leaf-blowers in the distance.The morning light barely illuminates the sheer curtains pulled across the Juliette balcony, and I get up to look outside. From the window, I see the driveway stretching beneath the window toward the street. Though the room is on the second floor, I could easily drop down onto the lawn. Without thinking about it, I try the glass door, but it's bolted shut.I tug at it again but quickly stop when I see one of Rurik's men walking down the driveway toward the main road.I hurry back to bed, and that's when I see a box on the bedside table. I stare at it, slowly comprehending what must be inside. Grabbing it, I pull at the matte black cardboard, tearing it open by the seams. Inside is a new phone.Larissa kept her promise
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
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