Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 83814 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83814 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
But a deep, primal part of me hates every fucking second of this.
She’s talking with him. They stand at a polite distance and there’s no real spark, and her brother Lev is a part of the conversation, but I’m fucking burning inside.
How does this bother me so much? I knew Nat was going to be married off to the Italians when I went out to get her from Paris, and it didn’t bother me then.
But ever since hearing that song and tasting her that night—
A part of me can’t let it go.
She’s fucking mine.
But she isn’t, and she never will be, because this is happening.
I slam back my whisky and ask for another. I can’t stand to watch her talking to that man, that fucking stranger, when it should be me in his place. I’ve known her for so long, and he’s a god damn nobody. We had that night together, and we know what it’s like when we drop our guard.
That wasn’t reality though.
That was a fucking fantasy. A puff of god damn smoke, and now it’s gone.
Natalya hates me, and for good reason. I should have told her about Stepan the second I walked into her apartment, and I never should have slept with her, especially knowing she was going to marry someone else.
If anyone knew what we did, we’d both be killed.
I don’t regret it at all, but I had to let it go.
“What’s your deal?” Lev asks, sitting down at my elbow. He nods at the bartender and asks for vodka. “You look fucking depressed.”
“You know I hate these things.”
He grunts and clinks my glass with his. “We all do, bro. I just introduced my sister to the stranger she’s going to marry in a couple weeks.”
“How’d it go?” I ask and immediately regret it. I must sound desperate.
But Lev doesn’t notice. “Awkward as hell, but fine. From what I hear, Adriano’s not such a bad guy, all things considered, and it’ll be good for the family.”
“But will it be good for her?”
He glances at me, eyes narrowing. “Since when did you care about that?” Before I can answer, his expression fades, and he shrugs. “I don’t know. It’ll be fine, I guess. I know how she feels about arranged marriages since she ran out on one already, but this is just how things are. This is how she contributes to the family. We risk our lives every day, and she marries an Italian.”
I take a drink of whisky. Even though Stepan was my best friend, I’ve been close with Lev for a long time too, especially in the last few years. Step’s death has only pushed us closer together, which means I need to be careful, because he might see through my bullshit.
“That’s the best we can do then,” I tell him, turning my whisky in a circle. “If we can give everything to the family, that’s the highest form of honor.”
Lev snorts and punches my arm. “Sometimes you sound like a fucking robot, man.”
“It’s true.” I don’t let his reaction bother me. Step was much more serious than Lev and our views on the Bratva meshed very well. But Lev keeps himself hidden beyond layers of irony and humor, in a way that makes it impossible for him to give a damn about anything.
“The family is just a family,” he says, staring back over his shoulder. A crowd’s gathering again and hush falls over the group.
“Maybe to you, but you know it’s everything to me. Before Step brought me in, I had nothing. I had less than nothing.”
“I know, you’re right. The Bratva’s good for people. Gives them purpose. But sometimes I wonder.”
I don’t press him on what exactly he wonders, because a gap opens in the group and I spot Natalya standing with Adriano.
She looks perfect. Her blond hair is swept back and the dress clings to her body, making her look both elegant and strangely erotica, despite the high neckline and the quarter sleeves. Her lips are painted red and her cheeks are blushing, and I can tell she’s deeply uncomfortable with the crowd around her. I wonder if anyone notices, but I see every line of her, all the tension and the nervous energy, and her hands come up to her face as her eyebrows raise in surprise—
In front of her, Adriano’s down on one knee and holding out a ring.
I don’t hear what he’s saying. The guy’s not even smiling as Natalya holds out her hand and he takes it. I throw back my whisky and get to my feet.
“Where are you going?” Lev asks, barely paying attention to me. “This is just getting good. God, look at her, she’s mortified.”
“I’ll be back,” I mutter at him and glance one more time to Natalya.
She’s holding the ring up and showing the crowd. Her smile looks fake, like the grin of a woman who knows she’s about to be led by her hair to the gallows soon.