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)
This means everything to me.
I’ve worked twice as hard as anyone else in this Bratva. I’ve sacrificed, killed myself, broken bones and bled for these people. My entire life and my soul is wrapped up in the family, and I would gladly die if Oleg commanded me to.
And now, to be given this gift, this promotion up the ranks, it’s overwhelming.
It’s everything I’ve always wanted.
“Thank you,” I finally manage to say.
Lev laughs loudly and pours three drinks. Oleg sits back, looking smug and satisfied with himself. I accept my glass of whisky and hold it up as Oleg gives a toast to our family, to my promotion, to the pakhan, and to the Bratva.
We drink and I wait for the joy I know should be coming.
I’m finally being recognized. This should be the pinnacle of my life works, all my achievements wrapped up in one tight moment.
Instead, I keep hearing Nat’s music in my head, and I can’t seem to feel anything at all.
Chapter 9
Natalya
Despite not really wanting to see my old crew anymore, I figured going wedding dress shopping alone would be way too depressing.
Turns out, I was wrong.
Going with a group of girls I’m not close with anymore is infinitely worse.
I shove myself into another dress that doesn’t really fit right in the changing room of a boutique wedding shop while cloying music plays in the main sitting room. I hear Irina laugh loudly, which is a surprise since she’s barely looked up from her phone this whole time. Maria’s out there too, along with Adriano’s sister Bianca, who actually isn’t all that bad.
But seeing Maria and Irina again was excruciating, mostly because they acted like no time has passed and nothing had happened. They squealed over my engagement ring, peppered me with questions about my fiancé (none of which I could answer for obvious reasons), and chattered on about their lives as if I hadn’t been gone for a whole year.
At least they’re catching me up on Bratva gossip, which is considerable, and mostly about Valentino and his new wife.
I step out from the dressing room, tugging at a strap and trying to get the bust to sit right. I feel like a mannequin in a big box store: dirty, tired, and way too used up, and for a few awkward seconds I stand on the little stage while Irina and Maria drink champagne and show each other TikToks on their phones.
At least Bianca’s paying attention. She’s around our age with sleek dark hair, round cheeks, and a bright smile. I knew I’d like her the second she took my arm, dragged me in this place, and promised it would be mostly painless.
She was wrong, but at least she tried.
“You look amazing,” she says and swats a hand at Irina to get her attention.
My former friend looks up and manages to lower her phone. “Oh, wow, girl, amazing.”
Which is exactly what she said about the five other dresses I tried on.
The attendant fusses over me. She’s a woman in her fifties with sleek dark hair and a chic black pant suit. Her heels black on the stage as she takes measurements, tucks in stray fabric, and mutters to herself about which parts need to be altered.
Honestly, the dress is fine. I look fine in it, just like I looked fine in all the others. Nothing’s grabbing my attention, and I’m not sure that’s going to change even if I manage to find the perfect dress that makes me look like a princess.
Clothes won’t change my situation, no matter how pretty.
“What do you think?” Bianca asks me once the attendant leaves the room to gather a few more options.
I shrug at my reflection. “I don’t hate it.”
“That’s what you said about all the others.”
“It’s true.” I take a deep breath, puff out my chest, then blow it out. “I look good enough.”
“You look beautiful,” she says, genuinely smiling as she gently pulls back my hair. It’s an overly familiar gesture but feels natural coming from her for some reason. “But I get it. You’re probably not looking forward to marrying my brother.”
My eyes widen and I glance over at where Irina and Maria are back to staring at their phones. “No, I wouldn’t say that,” I say quickly.
But Bianca just gives me a look. “Come on, be honest. You think I don’t have some idea about how you’re feeling right now? I’m basically waiting to get married off any day now and it sucks.”
“Your family’s going to arrange your husband too?”
“Sooner or later. I’ve been putting them off, but I don’t think I have much time left.” She gestures as if it’s no big deal, and I have to admit I’m really impressed by how she’s handling it. I’ve basically been one big pathetic mess worrying about this for a while now, and I even ran away to Paris to avoid my first arrangement. Not the best look, really.