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Now I certainly hadn’t expected that. So far, Volkov, a successful and business friend of the Bratva, had managed to stay in line well enough for my father not to pay him a visit. I wonder what he did to warrant it. What he does for a living is well-known around New York City. Need the latest and deadliest guns? Volkov Enterprises can get them for you with overnight shipping straight from Russia.
Curiosity itches inside me as a dozen questions scream for attention. However, I bite my lip and let him speak.
“To make a very long story short, the fucking bastard has a brilliant head on his shoulders,” he continues in the same casual tone as he fills the empty glass back up.
Though I’m not a stranger to seeing him drink, I’ve only known him to go through the bottle if some serious shit has hit the fan.
“As of yesterday, you are engaged to be married to Nikolai Volkov,” my father announces evenly.
I nearly fall off my chair. Instead, I lean back, my body hitting the cushions with a hard thump.
“Come again?” I manage to say through gritted teeth, completely dumbfounded.
“You will marry Nikolai Volkov,” my father states in a harsher voice, his cold eyes darting toward me.
My hands fumble with the silk pillow lying between my thighs. “How can I possibly do that? I’ve never met him.”
My father shrugs with indifference. “It’s the only way,” he snarls between gulps of vodka.
“Is this a sick, twisted joke, or are you really that cruel?” I challenge, trying to wrap my mind around it.
I know I have a reputation for being reckless and going on insane adventures. But this, I want nothing to do with.
My father narrows his eyes at my disrespect. “Do you think I would joke about something like this?” he asks, placing his glass back on the table.
He moves closer, leaving no space between us. I can smell his vodka breath with every word he speaks.
“Volkov saved all our asses yesterday, and for that, I owe him,” he admits. “It is his wish to marry you. He’s the only one that can cancel this arrangement. Do you understand? My hands are tied.”
Though I understand every word my father says, I barely comprehend his decision. I need to push back. I need to make him realize that this isn’t the solution to his problem.
“Papa, please,” I beg as one of his large palms covers mine, squeezing my fingers lightly.
“Where’s the pride I raised you to have, my dear daughter?” my father says.
This hurts more than his decision to marry me off. He’s a very perceptive person who notices every detail. To him, reputation is important. Fear is a power that can bring his enemies to their knees and keep them from attacking.
“Listen to me carefully,” he urges with a sigh, dropping his stern expression. “Though there’s nothing I can do about the engagement, it doesn’t mean that it will come to pass. This was Nikolai’s request. Therefore, he’s the only one who can back out of it. Do you understand what I’m saying, printsessa?”
My lungs still as my father’s cold hands move to cup my face. Tears well up in my eyes, but I nod.
“Good,” my father says, patting me on the head. “Your only job now is to get Nikolai to despise you, so much so that he won’t even want to be in the same room as you, let alone marry you. The fate and reputation of this family lay on your shoulders, Kata.”
With that, he kisses me on the forehead and squeezes me in his arms.
His words were clear. I still have the chance to not marry Nikolai damned Volkov.
No one comes between me and my sweet freedom.
THREE
NIKOLAI
The view of the sunset through my office windows is a scene that I never tire of. But today, my mind is occupied with thoughts of meeting Katarina. Sokolov should bring her by any moment now. That is, if he managed to get her under control. Even I’ve heard of her fiery personality. But it’s just another thing about her that interests me.
Who doesn’t want to tame a dragoness?
Flicking the pen in my hand, I sigh in contentment, admiring the picturesque view from my skyscraper office. My eyes slowly trail across the gold-and-peach horizon of the late spring afternoon, casting a warm glow over downtown Manhattan. Below, the shimmering East River snakes its way toward Brooklyn. Skyscrapers stand like sentinels, their windows flickering with the last rays of daylight.
