Maxim leans back against the couch, completely relaxed, and finally speaks without emotion, like he’s discussing the weather.
“Vladimir Morozov owed my family a blood debt. He killed my adoptive father, Oleg Orlov. After the murder, a contract was signed between Vladimir and my father’s remaining allies. The debt was to be paid whenever the Orlov family decided to collect it. That contract is still valid. The debt was never settled.”
Artyom’s brows pull together in genuine confusion. “What the hell are you talking about? My father never mentioned any blood debt with the Orlovs.”
Maxim’s dark eyes narrow slightly. “Because your father was a coward who preferred to bury inconvenient truths. The contract was signed in blood. It states clearly that the Morozov family owes the Orlovs one bride as payment. I’m here to collect.”
The words land like a bomb in the room. I feel the blood drain from my face. Milana’s hand tightens painfully around mine.
Artyom stares at him, gun still raised, but I can see the calculations running behind his eyes. “You’re lying.”
“Don’t insult me Arytom,” Maxim replies flatly. “The contract is ironclad under our laws. And I have chosen my bride.”
Everything is happening so fast. What blood debt is he talking about? Why would our father have gotten into a blood debt with him without letting Arytom know?
“The youngest one will do,” Maxim drawls, his cold gaze shifting from Artyom… straight to Milana.
The room goes dead silent for half a second.
“What?” Did I just hear correctly? No. This has to be some sick joke.
“No,” Artyom snarls, the single word sharp enough to cut glass. His gun stays locked on Maxim’s forehead, finger twitching like it’s taking every ounce of control he has not to pull the trigger right now. “Over my dead fucking body.”
Maxim shrugs. “That can be arranged.”
Shock slams into me so hard my knees almost buckle. Marriage? He wants tomarryMilana? My younger sister, who we’ve all spent our lives trying to shield from exactly this kind of monster?
Milana makes a small, broken sound beside me. Her hand squeezes mine so tightly I feel the bones grind together. I can feel her terror vibrating through her fingers, raw, choking panic.
I expect Artyom to do something. To shoot Maxim. To throw this bastard out of his office in pieces. He’s the Pakhan. He’s supposed to be untouchable. He’s supposed to protect us.
“Get yourself off my couch and out of my office!”
But instead doing that, Maxim reaches into the inside pocket of his coat and pulls out a folded document, holding it up between two fingers.
“I came prepared. Here’s a contract signed after my father’s death. Between Vladimir Morozov and the remaining Orlov allies. Just as I already said, it states the blood debt between our families will be paid whenever the Orlovs choose to collect. The payment is one Morozov bride.”
He pauses holding Arytom’s gaze. “You dismiss this and you risk open war… your choice.”
Artyom snatches the document and unfolds it. I hold my breath as I watch him read it. I’m dying to know what it says. Do we really owe his family a blood debt?
I watch as Artyom’s face twists with fury, and I catch the exact moment something shifts behind his eyes. The gun in his hand doesn’t waver, but his jaw clenches so hard I hear his teeth grind.
He looks up and our eyes meet. I don’t see victory in his gaze. The realization crashes over me like ice water. My brother, who has ruled this city with an iron fist since our father died, istrapped. And Milana is the one who will pay the price.
Fear for my sister claws up my throat until I can barely breathe. Milana is only twenty-three. She doesn’t deserve this. She doesn’t deserve to be handed over to a man like Maxim Orlov, a man who looks at her like she’s a chess piece instead of a person.
I can’t let this happen.
“Artyom,” I say, my voice cracking with desperation as I step forward, pulling Milana half behind me. “Do something. You can’t… you have to stop this. Please.”
My brother’s eyes flick to me for a split second. I see the storm of rage and helplessness there.
Maxim watches the whole exchange with that same bored, predatory calm, and he knows he’s already won.
My heart is pounding so violently I feel sick at the thought of Milana being forced to marry this man, of her being taken away, locked in his world.
I take another step forward, positioning myself directly between Maxim and my sister.
