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“Father made this decision recklessly when I was fifteen and Nikolai died. Things have changed. The business has evened out, and we do not need them anymore,” I told her.
“Sasha, be quiet!” my mother shouted, throwing her powder compact at the wall. It exploded upon contact showering the carpet with a translucent shimmer.
“You will marry Dominic Blanchi today. You will smile and be the perfect wife. Your union will allow us all to rest and end the bloodshed that has plagued us finally. The war that has taken so many,” she told me. Her back was towards me, but I knew that she was tearing it. The only time she showed emotion was when she was talking about my brother.
Nikolai’s death was the only thing that ever made my mother sad. He had been her favorite—a living testament to the fact that she was a perfect mafia wife. A male heir was produced within the first year of her pregnancy.
I had come years later, a spare to be sold off.
Her words tugged at the part of me that continued mourning my eldest brother’s death, but I did not believe I needed to give up my entire future to a dangerous man in order to solve decades of bloodshed, a point I continuously made to my parents as they planned my wedding over the last year.
“Knock, knock,” my father said as he stepped into the bridal room. His presence brought an abrupt halt to the conversation between my mother and myself. Neither of us spoke. Neither of us wanted to upset him. That was the way things worked in our family. We all bent over backward to ensure my father’s good mood and happiness.
Now, I’ll be expected to do the same for Dominic Blanchi; thethought nearly made me spew out the little bit of breakfast I’d managed to eat.
“Don’t you look lovely, my little princessa,” he said as he kissed both of my cheeks. The smell of his cologne enveloped me as I melted into his arms. Where my mother was cold and distant, my father was warm and loving.
My brother had been the future of the Bratva, but my father had always called me its crown jewel. I hadn’t realized until this moment what exactly that meant.
Even though he was the head of the Russian mafia syndicate in New York, he was a big affectionate teddy bear who covered me in affection. Until this moment, my father had been my hero. Now, he was the person selling me off to my captor.
“Papa,” I whispered. “Please.”
My father released me from his arms. “This is a proud day for our family,” he said, ignoring my pleas. “Katarina,” he addressed my mother, “Are we ready?”
My mother nodded, a big smile plastered on her face. I bit my tongue so hard I tasted the tang of blood as it filled my mouth. I wanted to scream out how unready I felt, but I knew there was no use. Now was the time to resign myself to my fate.
I had done everything I could have to try and save myself, and it hadn’t worked.
Heart thumping, I took my father’s extended arm.This must be what it feels like to walk to the executioner’s block,I thought.
As I caught one last look at myself in the mirror before my mother swung my veil over my face. I looked terrified.
Today, I would cease being Sasha Petrov, daughter to the Russian mob, and I would become Sasha Blanchi, the wife of one of the most dangerous men in the world.
* * *
“Do you Sasha Ann take Dominic Matteo to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, to love and obey from this day forward?”
My veil hid my tears, and anyone close enough to hear my sobs would assume that I cried out of joy instead of anger and despair. Everyone wanted to pretend that this was just like any other wedding, so they’d tell themselves some sort of story about my anguish to make themselves feel better. Then, they’d go off and eat cake and drink the expensive booze that I wasn’t even old enough to consume yet.
A squeeze of my hand by my soon-to-be husband brought my attention back to the priest’s words.
“I do,” I whispered out in a shaky breath barely making my cue. I wondered if he could even hear me. I wasn’t sure that it mattered.
“Do you Dominic Matteo take Sasha Ann to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and cherish from this day forward, and for all the days of your life?”
Dominic answered without hesitation. “I do,” he said.
Our wedding vows were the first words I’d ever heard my husband speak, and his deep, husky voice made my skin crawl.
Dominic Blanchi had been the monster who haunted my nightmares since he came to power. Now, I stood in front of him, pledging to be a loving and obedient wife.
For years, my father spoke of the ruthlessness of Dominic Blanchi and the Italian family he now headed. They killed women and children without discrimination, and Dominic was known to particularly enjoy hurting people. The thought made me shiver.Will I be his next victim?I wondered.
I didn’t know much about men, but I’d sometimes seen women with bruised skin and haunted looks in their eyes. I never thought I would be one of them.
“I now pronounce you husband and wife.”
