A DEAL WITH THE DEVIL

Elena’s POV

I lost my breath. Standing still in the living room, the weight of the confrontation enveloped me like a suffocating cloud; my pulse was thumping in my ears. My sister, Isabella, stood a few feet away, her brows narrowed with an expression I couldn't quite understand; my mother, Viktoria, was standing with her customary grace and hard, uncompromising stare. Until it struck me. There was no guilt. Not regretful at all Just that known, stifling air of supremacy.

I had not sought any of this.

"Very true Elena," said Isabella's contemptful voice, cutting through my fog. "Are you going to create a scene around something so small? Dmitri and I—“

"Don't you dare," I yelled, my voice trembling with fury. You—"

I couldn't quite finish the statement though. Words failed me in that instant as nothing I said would restore the harm they had done.

Dmitri, The man I trusted—the one I had imagined would be by my side no matter what—had betrayed me. My intended boyfriend had also betrayed me. And my sister, among all people, had been the one to twist the knife.

"Elena," my mother's voice sliced across the room like a razor. I didn't even have to glance at her to find she was unconcerned by my wrath. Viktoria was always quiet and under control. "This is beneath you." I brought you better than this. According to your father, what would you do?

The reference to my father stung more than I would have been ready to confess. Built this empire by my father, the late Vetrova family patriarch, he had never been able to quell my mother's ravenous appetite for power.

She wore a deliberate contempt, tall and with perfect blonde hair falling over her shoulders. "You have overlooked Dmitri. He is a man of enormous worth; your selfishness has cost us more than you could possibly imagine.

Neglected him? What I was hearing seemed unbelievable. Are you really blaming me for this?

The same cold, contemptuous look Viktoria often gave when she wanted to remind me how insignificant I was in the larger scheme of things—that stated, it was just what I needed.

"Elena, your own career has always taken the stage. Your little business endeavors, your yearning to "break free" from the family Were you truly sure you could have both? While Dmitri was patient with you, family comes first. Dmitri agrees with that. You ought to do as well.

Shaking my head in shock, I moved away from her and felt my chest constrict as I tried to come up with the correct words. "This...this isn't my fault." I never requested any of this.

But Viktoria seemed not paying attention. She showed no interest in explanations, in justifications, in what I needed, or in why.

Not quite, Elena. What you need is what this family finds ideal. You will also start to line up.

Right now, blood was hammering in my ears, my heart accelerating. She was not merely referring to Dmitri, I realized. No; she was getting ready for something bigger. Not anything I had noticed approaching.

"Marko Kuznetsov," Viktoria continued, as though she were talking about a friend rather than the mafia kingpin with the ability to ruin families with one phone call. You will be married to him.

My breath seized in my throat, and I felt the floor drop underfoot. "What?." Whispering, appalled. "You're jokes."

She showed no flinch at all. "Do you think I would laugh about anything like this? Our family just needs Marko perfectly. His fortune and power will ensure the Vetrova name in the mafia scene for decades to come.

"Marko," I said, repeating as though his name might somehow make sense of the craziness she was advocating. Marko Kuuznetsov. the strong, merciless mafia boss once acquainted with my sister. He was a man who never took no for an answer; his reputation alone made even the toughest men shudder. She couldn possible believe that I would wed him?

"No," I answered, my voice firm in spite of the turmoil whirl-around me. "I am not going to do it."

You will, Viktoria said, her voice a lethal whisper. "You are without choice."

I gave a quick head shake. "Mother, I object to being used as some pawn in your power games. You believe I cannot find it? You are not interested in me. You only give this family's reputation, your position, top importance. Your sole concern is the benefits this marriage will provide.

"That's not true," Viktoria said quickly. "You're acting logically incorrectly."

"I'm being sensible!" I turned back, the rage boiling up now. "You have never given me any thought. Your only concern is who might grant you more authority and influence. I am not some instrument for your use!

I glanced at Isabella, whose quiet had been agonizing. She was simply silent, observing the interaction with a face that spoke it all—not hostile, nor defensive. She gave no thought at all. none of them did.

"You will marry Marko," Viktoria said, her voice steady. "Already the plans have been developed. Tomorrow night you are meeting him.

Not at all I am nowhere with him right now. Now I was shivering, every syllable weighty in my chest. I never want to marry him.

The look of my mother grew stiffer, her lips twisting into a meager smile. "I worry you will have no options. Our name, your father's, denotes everything in this life. And you will follow my advice if you wish to keep it intact and maintain your place inside this family.

I started to argue, but the words stuck in my throat as I thought back on Mila, my younger sister. She was barely ten years old, a child, and I knew what would happen if I turned away or battled this too hard. Everything I treasured, my mother would steal as well.

I would not be a pawn though. Not quite once more.

"Fine," I said, my voice heavy with rebellion. I'll be meeting him. But this—this is not done here.

For a split second, Viktoria's eyes softened, but it was a frigid gentleness. Elena, it never is with you. Still, you will act as needed. I hope you turn out to be the woman I raised.

I heard her just barely above the pounding in my ears as she turned to go.

And Elena...

Afraid to turn around her, I stopped dead still.

"Don't believe for a moment you can escape this. Try to; you won't only lose Marko's favor. You are going to lose everything.

I heard the faint sound of footsteps behind me as I stood there, the weight of my mother's comments smothering me. Turning around, my pulse skipped a beat as I met Dmitri squarely in the doorway.

"Is it true?" he questioned, his voice cracked and icy, far-off. Are you actually planning to wed him?

The question loomed like a promise—an underlying fact neither of us wanted to confront.

He moved closer, his eyes locking with mine before I could respond. The conflict between us grew more pronounced, and I realized the actual struggle was still to start.

The words scorched my throat, I moved away from her. Mother, never use him against me. You know I am not like you.

The lips of Viktoria curved into a tight smile. Elena, you believe you have options here? You will wed Marko Kuznetsov and do it without a word of protest. For the family, this is ideal.

Not at all. I staggered back, not wanting to be a pawn, and my voice broke. I am not going to wed him. You are unable to compel me.

Her gaze hardened, the frigid edge of her voice sending chills down my spine. Elena, I already have. The agreement is finished.