MariaLarissa stares at me, and her voice suddenly chills. "Who's that on the phone?"Wide-eyed, I stare at Larissa, terrified at what she'll think.No sense lying now. "It's my cousin Mercy. She lives in New York.""Maria! Maria!" Mercy shouts again, and it's louder this time as I pick up the phone. "Put me on speaker, goddamn it!"I do as I'm told and put the phone down on top of the covers. Larissa stares at it as if it's something unfamiliar. I wonder what she'll do to me. If she really meant all the kind words that she said. Or was it a trick? I sit motionless, embarrassed by what I tried to pull off.I had Larissa's consent to call my father and no one else.Larissa leans toward the phone. "Hello?" she asks."You Larissa?" Mercy replies."I am." Larissa scowls at me. "Who is this?""Maria's cousin, and I met you before," Mercy replies smoothly. "Look, the kid knows nothing. She's clueless, and it's not an act."Larissa picks up the phone and switches off the speaker. "When did w
MikhailI'm ready to leave for a meeting when I hear her door shut upstairs. From the corner of my eye, I watch and wait for Maria to come down to breakfast, but instead, Dominika descends the stairs. I tighten my tie, hiding my disappointment with a tolerant scowl. Dominika's orders have been to care for Maria and watch her like a hawk, so I assume she is doing her job."Where is she?" I ask. "Sulking in bed?"Dominka straightens her back and tries to compose herself quickly. She quickly steps toward the hallway and makes sure she's nowhere near me.I finish with my tie and glare at her. "Dominika," I demand. "I asked you a question.""Who?" Her voice falters."Maria," I say.Dominika stares out the window behind me, not daring to look me in the eyes. "She's staying at your sister's house."I step forward, looming over her. "You were supposed to be watching her!" I snarl.Dominika doesn't flinch. Before fleeing her homeland, she saw far more evil than even I could muster. She stares
MikhailA guard pushes the front door open, and I march into Larissa's home. I'm relieved to see the added security, but the atmosphere is contentious as men stand at attention as I pass. I don't need to look far for Larissa. She sits in her favorite chair, ignoring my invasion of her happy home. She shuts off the television, and her guarded gaze meets mine. I know without a doubt that she's aware of my intentions.She knows everything. She knows too much."Good morning, Lara." I approach her and lean down to kiss her cheek. She doesn't move a muscle except her eyes, which follow my every move. She looks ready for battle, but we are no longer children fighting over a toy. "You look well."Her eyes narrow, and she sees straight through my charm."So, you've decided to visit me," she says. "I wonder why?""I spoke to Rurik." I sit down across from her and lean back. I rest my elbows on the armrests and place my feet on the ottoman. "Where is she?"Larissa crosses her arms over her chest
MariaI only came downstairs for a glass of water, having been in my room all morning and most of the afternoon. I didn't intend to spy, but I heard a man's voice, and curiosity made me brave.Drawing nearer, I recognize Mikhail's low, smooth tone speaking to Larissa. Their voices echo around the walls and then it turns ugly. My feet refuse to move, and my ears can't shut out their hateful words.There's a small alcove near the family room where I can't be seen from the rest of the hallway. Hidden, I brace myself against the wall as my legs go weak."Is it really worth sacrificing everything?" Larissa almost shouts. "Is it worth losing everyone who loves you?""I love you, Lara." His voice is gentle. "But this isn't about love."My stomach churns, and I breathe in large, gulping breaths. This isn't about love. Their argument hurts more than if he had said it to my face. But when Mikhail talks about me to Larissa in private ... it must be the truth. Heavy footsteps move into the hallwa
Maria"Maria Zakharovna," Alexander addresses me with a slight bow. "You are coming with us.""Why?" I ask. "Why do you want me?""These are Mikhail Ivanov's orders," Alexander replies tersely. "He says it's for your own safety.""I don't believe you," I scoff, my anger flaring at that lie. "He wouldn't send me with you."Alexander's posh expression slides. "The pakhan wants you out of harm's way. Come."I glare at the liar, the wickedest of the three, the one who betrayed my parents. "The fuck I am," I spit out, channeling Mercy. "You're full of shit."Gunsyn steps forward and grabs my arm. "Listen, little bird," he lowers his voice—patient but threatening. "You're coming with us. Now either we do this the easy way or the hard way.""No!" I struggle against his grip. "I'm not going anywhere until I get my things." Maybe I can get to the phone."Gunsyn, please," Larissa urges. "Why should she go with you when she's safe here with me?""This is not your decision," he snaps."Why don't
MariaThe room has neither light nor air conditioning. I didn't expect another penthouse or mansion, but this is brutal. I'm a captive and being treated like one, sitting in a hard chair for what feels like hours. I strain my eyes in the dark, hoping nothing lives in here.My mouth is dry. I'm tired and thinking about my discomfort doesn't make me feel better. I lean against the back of the chair and close my eyes, trying to relax and imagine how I will feel when this is over.Suddenly, footsteps approach the door, and keys jingle in the lock. I open my eyes, sit up straight, and pretend like none of this bothers me. The lights come on, and the two brigadiers enter the room.Where's the third one? I haven't seen him at all.Gunsyn stares at me with an unfeeling expression that makes him look like the rabid dog he is."Your life will be spared," Gunsyn states matter-of-factly. "Because of the child you carry."My breath catches, and I cough. "Who told you?" I ask, my voice trembling sl
Maria"My father is not a traitor." My voice is too calm. "And if he was, you made him one. No man chooses to become a traitor. That's cowardice." I stare at them, and I no longer feel scared. "But you are cowards. The worst kind."Gunsyn raises his hand, but I stare at him, daring him to land a slap on my face. Alexander quickly grabs his arm and yanks him into a chair."Stop it," Alexander hisses harshly. "Control yourself!" He turns to me. "Your father acted dishonorably," he insists. "He was the Avtoritet, and he betrayed us. Don't defend him until you know the entire story. It will only bring you more suffering to know it. Trust us."I stand up and challenge their bullshit. "I'm done with hearing about Dad being a traitor. My father is a good man, not a filthy scum of a criminal like all of you.""Your sniveling father," Gunsyn slams his fist on the table. He snarls at me like a wild beast, "betrayed the Bratva when he fucked that Lanzzare cunt!"I scoff, not holding anything bac
MikhailThe ninth floor is kept vacant of tenants, but it's always filled with my people. Rows of desks covered in fake wood veneer run the length of the space from window to window. Laptops connected to widescreen monitors on each desk survey accounts and videos of anyone involved with the Bratva. There is a constant hum of voices as information is given and received over burner phones as the darker side of our business is conducted daily. But today, the floor has been transformed into a command center for our operation to take out Zakhar Budanov.I take a sip of water from a plastic bottle as I stare at the cityscape out the window. The view isn't much down here, but it helps me think. I'm still trying to make sense of everything that's happened in the last few daysI can't deny my attraction to Maria. I can't deny I still want her, and not just for her body. I want her soul and her heart. I want to claim Maria again. I want her to belong to me ... to the Bratva. But I have to prote
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
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
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
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
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
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
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
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
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