Page 2 of Hunted Bride

“You’re holding that over my head? Alisa Morozov isn’t going anywhere,” Maxim says.

“Nor are either of you getting any younger. You ought to have tied the knot while your father was still around to bless the union he arranged for you. Now, he will never witness it, if your wedding ever happens.”

Max rolls his eyes.

Nikolai, our youngest brother, pipes up, clearly intrigued by the unexpected chance to wrest control of the family business from his brother. “What do we have to do to win?” he asks.

“The first brother to marry will inherit control of the Orlov empire,” Irina says simply. I exchange a glance with Luka. “I need to see that you can ensure the line of succession.”

“Married? Isn’t that extreme?” Nikolai sulks.

“This is bullshit,” Max whips out his cell phone and strides to the door. Apparently, his call goes to voicemail. “Alisa. Get your ass on the next plane to Vegas. We’re getting married.”

Beside me, my identical twin brother Luka laughs into his fist. Sure, Alisa will jump to obey Max. She’s spent years avoiding this marriage. There are some things Max can’t bend to his will, and Alisa is one of them.

Lilia has finally stopped crying and is staring at each of us, wide-eyed.

“Jesus, Mom.” She’s the only one of us who calls our mother by the English word instead of mamochka, the Russian version. She shakes her blond head in disbelief. “You must be desperate for grandchildren if you’re forcing them to do this. Watch Nik kidnap a mom and baby just to prove he can beat his brothers for once. This is diabolical.”

As if to prove her point, Nik gets out of his chair and strides out of the room, following Maxim, who’s shouting into his phone just outside the chapel. There’s still the whole taking the casket to the grave and laying our father to rest business to take care of. Heaviness settles into the pit of my stomach.

Looks like a couple of my brothers have opted out of this dismal task. Bastards. Rushing off to chase power instead of burying your own father is certainly a choice.

Not one I’m going to make.

“Alisa’s going to bolt. We actually have a chance at taking control,” Luka leans over to whisper to me. I’m surprised to hear him express interest in challenging Maxim. He’s always quiet. It’s not easy to tell what he’s thinking in any given situation—even for me.

My mind is already buzzing with one possibility that my mother’s decree has opened up. I care less about asserting dominance over the family’s business empire than I do over one particular woman.

If the Morozov family ever found out that I’ve been keeping tabs on their shy youngest daughter—I won’t call it stalking—there’s no telling how fast and hard they would retaliate. The Morozovs provide cover for our operations by running what is ostensibly a tech company out of Silicon Valley. In return, we provide money laundering services and muscle when they need it. Our alliance is held together through a network of security agreements and the tenuous promise of an arranged marriage between my eldest brother, Maxim Orlov, with their oldest daughter, Alisa Morozov.

The two sisters are nothing alike. Alisa is an aspiring actress who’s had some commercial success. No breakout hits, but steady work in Hollywood and a minor part in a blockbuster superhero flick, which isn’t nothing. Though they are similar and coloring with dark hair and large eyes, their personalities are completely opposite. Alisa is outgoing and strong-willed. On paper, she’s a great match for my brother. In practice, well…suffice it to say that the two of them have never quite gotten along.

Both families have too much to lose from a fractured alliance. Max will find a way to force the marriage with Alisa. Eventually.

My pulse bucks wildly.

I’m going to make Milena mine—but first, I have to find a way to undo the damage of six years of constant scrutiny.

She hates me.

But I can change that.

In the chaos of our mother’s decree, I pull out my phone again. Milena is speaking to someone on her end. She pinches her temples around the oversized frames of her glasses. She looks really upset. I hope I haven’t pushed her into calling the police. Bratva families avoid doing that. Maybe I’ve gone too far this time.

That won’t stop me from taking this one step farther.

With a few taps of my thumb, I get an illegal wiretap transcript of her conversation. Technology is my plaything. Laws aren’t something I pay any attention to. In the bratva, we break laws like we break our enemies’ bones. Without remorse.

The transcription continues in all capital letters.

YOUR SISTER IS GETTING MARRIED, the person on the other end of the line says. Presumably one of her parents. Guess Max’s next call was to Alisa’s parents. They sure seem keen to throw a wedding. They probably can’t believe he’s finally going through with it after so many years.

Milena: WHAT? WHEN?

TWO DAYS FROM NOW. GET A DRESS. MAXIM ORLOV IS ON HIS WAY. A NICE DRESS, MILENA, NOT ONE OF THOSE HIDEOUS MUMUS YOU FAVOR. INVEST IN SHAPEWEAR, YOU’RE GOING TO BE HER BRIDESMAID.

Definitely her mother. Her whole family talks to her that way, as if she’s some sort of mentally incompetent child. She’s not. Milena might be quiet and shy—the exact opposite of my personality—but she is far from stupid. And they might not like the way she looks, compared to her willowy sister, but I sure as hell have spent a lot of time fantasizing about her curves. How they’d feel in my hands. How good her tight pussy would feel when she comes on my cock.