All Chapters of Arranged To The Bravta King: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

MariaASSHOLE!I don't say it, but I think it.The low light from the chandelier dances across Mikhail's face, casting shadows that make him look even more sinister with that cold green gaze going through me. Despite my fear, I force myself to meet his gaze, trying to convey the hatred boiling over in me.His eyes bore into mine, and I can see the sincerity there. He's not lying when he says that he's doing this to protect me. And if my encounter with his three men—what did he call them, brigadiers?—is any indication, then my best hope truly lies with him.But it still doesn't help that his promise of protection is only extended to me."I'll play my part in public," I tell him. "But behind closed doors, I want nothing to do with you. Don't expect me to be your dutiful wife.""Fair enough," Mikhail concedes, heading back to his chair across the table. "But remember, Maria. The world can be a cruel place, and sometimes we need allies more than we need our independence."Is this the trad

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

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

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,

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