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Arranged To The Bravta King Twenty-One.
Mikhail.I trudge into the living room, bleary-eyed from a restless night. My sister Larissa is already here, standing in front of a window, looking out. She’s not interested in art, but she pretends to humor me as she’s always done since I was a little boy. Upon hearing my footsteps behind her, she glides toward me, smiling her sad smile, and fixes my collar and tie. She smooths my hair with a maternal flourish, reminding me she comes before me in the birth order.“My dear Kolya.” She sits on the edge of the couch with her chin held high. “A pakhan in name, but still the little boy whose hair I used to muss.”I can feel the weight of everything she doesn’t say. Sighing, I remain on my feet and wonder how much Rurik has told her.“You’re here early,” I say. “What’s on your mind?”“What else?” She spreads her hands like Rurik. And I wonder who was the first to use the gesture in their marriage. “Them.”Nothing else needs to be said. Since we were children, we have only ever referred to
Arranged To The Bravta King Twenty-Two.
MariaSleep and I are in a long-distance relationship. I stagger into the ensuite, exhausted, and look at the dark circles under my eyes. I don't have any concealer, so I splash my face with cold water until it hurts like razors. I don't want Mikhail to think he's getting to me.I can deal with what he said, but what Dominika said? That scares the shit out of me. It's enough that I know I won't try running again. A part of me wants to imagine that she's just doing what she's supposed to do to keep me here. But if my meeting with those three brigadiers is any indication, there's a kernel of truth to her words.And that's more than enough.So, I'll have to be patient and wait for my chance. A good chance, completely foolproof, one that I can't possibly mess up.I slowly walk down the spiral steps in search of coffee.I enter the living room, where a statuesque woman sits beside Mikhail. Her dark hair and eyes are mesmerizing, and the dress he has on is amazing—its sheer silk material sc
Arranged To The Bravta King Twenty-Three.
Maria.As the morning progresses, Larissa and I chat over nothing and everything. There are moments I forget I'm being forced to stay here and marry her brother. If Larissa knows my situation, she certainly doesn't show it. Instead, she shares stories of her time traveling through Europe, and I can't help but envy her experiences."Your father never allows you to travel?" she asks, raising an eyebrow."No," I admit, looking away. "He's been very protective of me since my mother died.""I'm so sorry." She places a hand on my knee. "When did your mother pass?""After I was born.""I understand what that's like." Larissa covers her expression quickly and gently takes her hand away to dab at the corner of her eyes. "Our father wasn't exactly the easiest man to live with either, especially after our mother died.""Did you ever feel trapped?" I ask, probing for information and simultaneously hinting a little at what's going on with myself. "Or suffocated?""Always." She gazes out the window
Arranged To The Bravta King Twenty-Four.
MikhailThe gallery opening is filled with invited guests in formal evening attire. Venomous words are exchanged behind masks of pleasantries, and all of it is buoyed by the copious amounts of champagne in their glasses. Gossip and rumor take flight in light whispers and raucous laughter, all while hands hide lips dripping with scandalous secrets. Wait-staff weaves through the crowd, carrying delicacies on silver platters, offering them to anyone who catches their eye... and remembering any worthwhile rumor to be passed back to me later.I hold a crystal flute up to my lips and take a sip, the bubbles tingling on my tongue. My chest swells with pride as I accept one congratulation after another on my newest gallery—the Vedere.Tonight, the room subtly sparkles and glimmers with muted golden lamps illuminating the art pieces around the space. As I move through the space, I engage in small talk here and there, commenting on the artwork with my guests.These people don't know me as a cr
Arranged To The Bravta King Twenty-Five.
Mikhail.The ringing in my ears is deafening, drowning out the screams and cries for help that echo around the gallery. My vision blurs as I wipe blood from a cut above my eye. My mind races, trying to make sense of what just happened."Mikhail Ivanov!" Anton shouts my name, but I can't see him through the smoke. "Mikhail Ivanov!""Find my sister!" I yell back. My hand flies to my side, and panic seizes my throat when I do not feel my gun. It takes me a second to remember that I had left it behind because tonight was supposed to be a respectable affair.Around me, people lie sprawled on the floor, some motionless, while others claw at the debris that pins them down, their faces twisted in agony. Blood splatters are on the once pristine walls, and the canvases are hanging in tatters.It's all gone. In seconds, it has been destroyed."Help! Please, somebody, help!" Izzie's voice pierces above the din, her desperate sobs rising above the commotion. I glance over to her, cradling Gaspar i
Arranged To The Bravta King Twenty-Six.
Mikhail.When I walk off the elevator, Maria is sitting on the floor in a pair of borrowed jeans and a T-shirt. She turns the pages of a book on El Greco, and her hands smooth down the pages. I'm thankful I didn't bring her out tonight. Not having an evening dress and her eagerness to run away probably saved her life. I tower over her, my arms crossed over my chest as I stare down at her.She looks at me with surprise, her mouth forming an O. She notices my smoky clothes and sooty skin. The aroma of burning debris lingers around me. Her hands rise to her face as she continues to gaze at me in astonishment."What happened to you?" she asks, getting to her feet.I can tell she's concerned about me. It drops my anger a notch even as Alexander's words echo in my mind. Her father was always a very accomplished bomb maker.I take a deep breath and let it out slowly."A bomb went off at the gallery."Maria gasps, her hands flying to her mouth. Unexpectedly, she closes the distance between us,
Arranged To The Bravta King Twenty-Seven.
Mikhail.My smile fades when I see the look on Rurik's face as he hurries into the underground garage toward me. "Is Larissa okay?" I ask in a whisper."Your sister is fine." He nods. "And she's still happily married to me."I don't conceal my thoughts from Rurik. He's one of the few people I trust without hesitation. "What's going on?""The Lanzzare are moving fast in the wake of the bombing." Rurik quickly drops the levity. "This time, the ports.""Boroughs or Jersey?" I ask."Jersey. They're relying on the distance to get away with their shit."I shake my head. "It's not that far away." My father fought tooth and nail to keep the Lanzzare out of his territory, but they're eager to exploit the void, as they did last night.The bomb at the gallery wasn't a threat. It was a wake-up call."Ready for some payback?" I ask."Always." A vicious grin spreads across Rurik's face. "Let's teach them a lesson."I can't help but match his enthusiasm. Long before Rurik married Larissa, he watched
Arranged To The Bravta King Twenty-Eight.
MariaA FEW DAYS LATERThe chime goes off, and I watch the elevator doors with anticipation. A blonde in a fancy coral suit steps into the living room.“Oh, this view.” She rushes toward the window as if she’s about to spread her wings and fly off. “Manhattan is a jewel from these dizzying heights.”Dizzying? I tilt an eyebrow and stare at our newest inmate. Larissa hurries off the elevator and herds the blonde toward me.Other than an errant bandage here and there, she betrays no sign that she nearly lost her life in a horrific bombing.“Maria,” she says, “this is Naomi St. Clair. She owns several boutiques. Perhaps you’ve heard of them?”They look expectantly at me as if I’d know. Eventually, I shake my head.“Well, she dresses all the members of our … family.” Larissa draws a tight smile across her features and turns away to lock the elevator.I can’t help but notice that her hands are shaking slightly.“Good morning, Maria.” Naomi extends her hand, and we shake. “I’ve heard such 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
