That makes no sense.
Everyone in the Bratva knows what happened to Fyodor and Pyotr — and exactly whose fault it was. Even I know this now, and I was the last person on Planet Earth to find out.
“They locked you away.”
He shrugs his huge shoulders. “The place burned down. All the records of why anyone was in there went with it, too.”
“I’ll call… the police. I’ll do something.”I straighten my spine and look up at him, but he doesn’t seem the least concerned.
“You’ll call the police?” He arches an eyebrow, as if to suggest I could do better with my threats. “We’re Bratva, Natalia. Even you, with your fancy paintings and statues. You can’t call the police.”
“Sculptures, not statues,” I correct him instinctively.
“Right. Sculptures.”His lips press together like he’s trying to suppress a laugh. It irritates me that he’s so amused, like he’s already won.
“This won’t work,” I hiss at him.
He might have gotten rid of Anton, but that’s just the beginning. Anton is nothing compared to what he’s going to have to go through to get my father to send me off with the man who killed my brothers.
Aleksandr turns to walk to the windows. They’re enormous, floor-to-ceiling, looking out over the expansive lawns filled with cherry blossom trees where marquees have been set up to celebrate the union.
Lawns where I grew up. Lawns where scum like himshouldn’t be allowed — haven’t been allowed, for decades. It’s why we built these walls, it’s the structure that the Bratva depends on.
There are some people whose names are respected, and some whose names are worthless.
Aleksandr Zhukov falls into the latter category.
I watch him shrug those thick shoulders.
“Then I won’t give you what you want.”
“There’s no way you know what I want.”
He fixes me with those deep blue eyes and for a second I feel unmoored, battered in the roughest rapids with only a flimsy life raft.
“You want the truth about your brothers, Natalia.”
“I already have the truth.”
He turns, shaking his head.
“Doesn’t that seem a bit convenient, Natalia? That the unionists who were creating trouble for your father just happened to also be evil assassins who were out to get his sons?”
“It makes perfect sense to me.” I fold my arms across my chest. “That’s what people like you do. You’re common criminals.”
“I was friends with Fyodor and Pyotr. For years. I wouldn’t have done that to them.”
There is no reason for me to trust this man. But the pain in his voice when he says my brothers’ names sounds all too real.
I find myself sucked in. “Then what happened to them?”
Aleksandr’s deep-blue eyes shutter into blackness again,pushing me out. “That’s what you have to marry me to find out.”
I may be a bit curious now, but I’m not the issue. My father is never going to go through with this.
“My father?—“
“He’s already agreed.” Aleksandr’s face gives away nothing. “Ask him yourself, if you don’t believe me.”
