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Sixty-Six

Author: Chihiro
last update Last Updated: 2024-09-24 07:12:57

Maria

I don't tell Larissa what I said to my father, and there is a silent understanding between us. She can't tell Mikhail what she doesn't know.

The next day is spent in a limbo between fear and boredom. Bratva men frequently show up at the estate, and I watch them with trepidation from a window in the family room as they patrol the large yard. All are armed, and a few men pace with huge dogs, pulling at the leashes. They walk closely around the fence and occasionally disappear into a detached garage.

When one gestures at the window, I step away.

Larissa sits comfortably in a huge easy chair with the television streaming some reality TV show she's barely watching. None of this seems to bother her. She glances at me and smiles. I smile back and wonder how long I will be here.

Rurik strides quickly into the room, ignoring me like I'm a wilting plant in the corner.

It's not my business, and I shouldn't care, but I wonder what he and Mikhail have been saying about me. Rurik walks over t
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    Maria"Yeah. Who is this?" Mercy's no-shit, tough-girl accent instantly reassures me. She sounds like she's been up for hours, and I can hear bar sounds in the background—glass clinking, people talking, and sports announcer giving a play-by-play.My voice trembles slightly. "Mercy? I need to talk to you."Her voice is instantly loaded with worry. "Maria? My God, what's going on? What's wrong?" Her words are rapid-fire. "Where are you? Are you okay? Are you still with Ivanov? Talk to me!""I'm safe." My voice is firm. "And you can help by answering some questions.""Okay, give me a sec." Wherever Mercy is, she moves to a quieter room, and I hear a door slam in the background. "All right, what do you want to know?"I pause, gathering my nerves into words. "Did you know about my dad, Mercy? The truth.""I don't know everything." She sighs dramatically and then speaks. "But I do know that Michael Rostova is not as dull as he pretends to be."I don't speak Dad's real name. I don't want to

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  • Arranged To The Bravta King   Sixty-Eight

    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

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  • Arranged To The Bravta King   Sixty-Nine

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  • Arranged To The Bravta King   Seventy

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  • Arranged To The Bravta King   Seventy-One

    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

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  • Arranged To The Bravta King   Seventy-Two

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  • Arranged To The Bravta King   Seventy-Three

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  • Arranged To The Bravta King   Seventy-Four

    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

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  • Arranged To The Bravta King   172

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  • Arranged To The Bravta King   171

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  • Arranged To The Bravta King   170

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  • Arranged To The Bravta King   169

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  • Arranged To The Bravta King   168

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  • 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

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