Page 7 of Lord of the Underworld

"Her two brothers, I have some hope for them," he continues, heading over to the bar to pour a glass of wine for my mother. "Ideally, the father will be killed horribly - and quite soon - and they can take over."

Mother chuckles into her glass.

"But I agree with your mother and grandfather-"

"Dedushka knows of this?" I ask with a frown.

"Yes. He was the one who initially suggested it," Father says.

Why does that feel like a betrayal? I am more like my grandfather than anyone. He knows how I'd feel about this.

"Having someone there who already moves through the elite is a good idea," Father continues. "Because she is one of the Six Families, she would know what to expect from an arranged marriage, which will save a lot of time in establishing ground rules."

Mother listens to this with a sad little frown. "Maybe they could find happiness together," she says acidly. "Have you considered that? Don't dismiss that so easily, Konstantin."

"I'm sorry, moya lyubov'," he says, lifting her hand to kiss it. "It's true. Anything is possible."

"Which family? What is her name?"

"The Vasiliev Bratva," Mother says. "Oksana, their only daughter." She's watching me closely.

Everything inside me goes still.

After a moment, my gaze moves back to the view outside their window. "Did you request this alliance?"

"No," Father says. "The Vasiliev Bratva contacted us."

"This was an ambush," I say quietly.

By their silence, I can tell my parents have the good grace to feel some guilt.

"Will you accept this marriage?" Father asks, and steps closer, forcing me to look at him. Concern and worry for me have carved lines in his face, deeper than they should be at his age. "I will end the agreement if you ask me to."

I take a healthy swallow of vodka and grimace, which is the closest I can come to a smile. "I will marry Oksana Vasilieva."

Later that night…

Benedikt Vasiliev is one of those men who loves to be heard. His hearty tone echoes through the marble entryway, met by my father's calmer, more confident one. Walking down the hallway, I watch the Vasiliev family turn.

"Ah, there's my son," Mother says with a loving smile. "Vadim, You know Benedikt and Sofia Vasiliev, of course."

I nod, but ignore Benedikt's hand stretched out to shake mine.

"Their children," Father says smoothly, moving past the moment before Benedikt can take offense. "Nikolay and Maks, and of course, Oksana."

Oksana's standing next to her mother, as far away from her father as possible without appearing rude. Her brothers are both tall, dark-haired, with the easy, entitled attitude of the Russian Oligarchs. Oksana is... beautiful, tall and lanky, with thick blonde hair flowing down her back. Her eyes are wide and a little apprehensive, a beautiful silver-gray.

And pink. Full, pink lips, a light flush staining her skin.

She's staring at me. Right at me, examining my face. Her gaze meets mine and doesn’t skitter away again. No one looks me in the eye.

She does.

Does she remember?

Stepping forward bravely, she says, "Privet, Vadim Turgenev."

I don't realize I've moved until I'm right in front of her. She's looking up at me, her breath warm on my neck. "Privet, Oksana Vasilieva." She nods and smiles at me, a flicker of one, at least. I search her eyes, but they're clear of anything but a cautious curiosity.