Page 10 of Brutal Vows

He looks at Gabriella. Oh, help me. He’s describing the plans he has for her, not for me. And she’s in such denial. I bite my tongue so I don’t burst out in tears.

“Something like that,” Gabriella echoes with a smile. “And afterwards, they hand out rice or flower petals to bless the couple with.”

“I wanna do that!” Irisha cries out. “So badly!”

“And me!” Katya echoes.

“Who is getting married?” I ask, wanting this torture to be over.

If my scheme with Gabriella fails, I have to pivot again. Feign or even try suicide to get to a hospital so I can walk out when nobody’s watching. Do something instead of waiting in limbo for someone else to leave the backdoor open.

“Funny question, actually,” Ivan says. “You are.” He boops Katya on her nose and then Irisha. “And you two get to be the flower girls.”

“What?” I ask, my voice a mere croak, but my heart is pounding in my chest, my head swimming as I slice my gaze to Gabriella.

I can’t believe it. She delivered.

Pandemonium is breaking out, the girls excited about dresses, flowers, even crowns, and Ivan answers every question patiently, until they’re satisfied. Then he looks at me.

“Who?” I ask, wishing this to be real, the answer to my prayers. It can’t be an idiot in his entourage—he tried that with our cousin Boris and look where that got us.

He lowers Katya to her feet. “Luca Scalera, Gabriella’s brother. I believe he’s next in line to get married.”

An arranged marriage just as I hoped to orchestrate, pulling invisible strings, to someone out of Ivan’s orbit. I don’t know how Gabriella did it, but this shows how petrified she is that Ivan will learn about her secret. Just as petrified as I am that he will learn mine.

I had the briefest hold on Gabriella, knowing she speaks Russian. I was ready to use extortion to get out, but she’s a woman too. A pawn, not a player. I was desperate when I let her in on my secret and she can annihilate me with what she now knows.

But for women in the Mafia and Bratva worlds, we’re dead if we don’t stand together. Just look at me, alive against all odds. If it weren’t for Masha⁠—

“You need a change of scenery,” Ivan says, cutting through my thoughts. “This is the only one I can give you.”

I turn away from him, wiping at my cheeks with trembling fingers. Relief washes through me, but I need this to be soon. Tonight? Let this Luca Scalera fetch me tonight, and I’ll figure out how to give him the slip within hours. “When?”

“Friday.”

Two more days. It’s better than the endless weeks I faced mere minutes ago. Only two days stand between me and freedom. But I’m going to have to put on a show.

“What?” I say, not needing to feign panic in my voice. Just the notion that I could be stuck here forever puts me right in the scene, acting my part.

Gabriella touches my shoulder. “Luca will look after you, Milana. I promise. If he doesn’t⁠—”

She lets the thought hang, but I know what I’ve set in motion. Every day, from now on forwards, her safety gets woven with mine.

Perfect.

As for Luca Scalera, no man could treat me worse than I’ve already been treated. Wrong me more than how I’ve been wronged. Be more heartbreak or a bigger reality check than my first venture down Lovers’ Lane. No, I’ve turned into cold-hearted stone, and nothing a man could do could ever touch me, hurt me, burn me. I won’t trust a man ever again, never mind let a man’s hands on me.

Whatever hopes Luca Scalera might have for a real marriage, our little arrangement will come to an abrupt end and intimacy will never be on the cards. In fact, I’m fully prepared for another male disappointment. When it comes to love, what a joke. I fell hard and deep the first time, not knowing I was heading for a bone-crushing collision with reality. I’m still peeling myself off from the bedrock of disillusion. I certainly don’t need the helping hand of an arranged-marriage husband with that. I’m doing just fine.

“You four, meaning you two and Irisha and Katya, have two days to sort out dresses and all that,” Ivan says. “We can bring someone in with their dress inventory, or you can keep it simple and let Kostya buy you something. Spend whatever you feel like. Yuri will see to it.”

Oh, my brother thinks he’s handing me over in a virginal bridal gown, but it’s an opportunity I have to push for. What if I can make my escape before the wedding? Every hour counts.

“Kostya? Buying a wedding dress? Ivan! Have mercy on the poor man,” I say, testing the waters. Poor Kostya runs all our errands, but this goes too far. “Can’t we go into town and sort ourselves out?”

“No.” His answer brooks no argument. “Come, Milana. We’re going to see the Pakhan to share the news. Could you put the girls to bed, Gabriella?”

“Sure.”