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It’s not Viktor’s looks I’m concerned with. It’s who heis.Russian. Bratva. Ussuri.Not just Bratva, but their leader. A man who had a hand in attacking my family. A man who is, by all accounts, my enemy.
It’s the fact that I’d told myself I’d be free after Franco. I’d really believed it, for just a moment.How could I have been so foolish?
It’s how he’ll treat me once we’re married because the longer I lay there in bed considering it, the less and less I can imagine how I could possibly get out of this without consequences that I can’t possibly live with.
He won’t hurt you,I tell myself, trying to calm my racing heart and the sick, cold nausea deep in my belly. If my marriage to him is to broker peace between our families, then it wouldn’t make sense for him to physically harm me in any way. It’s a low bar, to be sure, but after Franco, I’m not sure how much lower the bar could possibly be for a second husband.
I go over the choices in my head, but each one comes up short. I don’t want to leave Manhattan—it’s my home, and I know it’s not wise to, anyway. Anywhere else in the country I might go that I wouldn’t hate, and maybe even some places that I would, none of the other underbosses will protect me if I defy Luca. Some of them might even actively seek to find me and return me to him in order to curry favor. I’ll only make it worse by running, and even leaving the country isn’t really an option. There’s no place in Europe that the Family can’t find me. And outside of it—there’s the Bratva to contend with, the Irish in other areas, the Yakuza in still others, the cartels. No matter where I tried to flee, there would be some crime organization willing and even eager to make a deal with Luca or Viktor or both to return me home.
I was born into this life, and there’s no escaping it. I’ve always known that, and it hasn’t changed. I know now, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that it never will.
Slowly, I take stock of every small dream I had for myself after Franco’s death. The redecorating of my home, the traveling I’d do alone, the way I’d planned to never marry again. The freedom that I’d tasted so briefly and allowed myself to imagine.
I let them go, one by one, drifting out into the darkness, and I feel my heart sink a little after each one, settling in my chest like a lead weight. I’ve never felt quite as shackled to my life as I do now, not even once I realized what kind of man Franco really was.
For the first time in a very long time, I watch the sunrise outside my bedroom window. And then, as the greying sky gives way to the streaks of color, I get up, feeling the weight of my resolution settle over me.
I’ve made my decision, and even though there was never really any other way this was going to go, I’m glad that part is done. Now all I can do is look forward and try to make the best of it.
Telling Luca is the easy part. I can tell that it’s an effort for him to stay calm when I arrive at his office. He offers me a seat, but I shake my head.
“This won’t take long,” I tell him calmly. “I’ll marry Viktor Andreyev. Just let me know the details. I’ll also be keeping my home,” I add. “I’ll hire staff to look after it while I’m not there.”
Luca leans back in his chair, looking visibly relieved. “I’m glad that’s the decision you’ve come to,” he says diplomatically, as if there really was any other decision I could have made. He takes a breath and then leans forward, his green eyes fixed on mine. “This will bring peace, Caterina,” he says softly. “I hope that makes it worth it.”
“And you trust Viktor to keep his word?” I try to keep the cutting tone out of my voice, but it’s hard.Ifind it hard to believe that a man with a reputation for being so brutal could be trusted. Luca has yet to establish that sort of reputation—if anything, he’s known for being less inclined to war and bloodshed than my father was. So, where does that leave me?
If Viktor mistreats me, I do believe that Luca cares enough for there to be consequences. If not for my sake, then for the fact that he can’t be seen as that weak—that the Bratva leader could take a mafia bride of my position and then abuse her. But what if I don’t live to see those consequences carried out? What if Viktor simply wants the pleasure of punishing me for Franco’s failure, and he’s willing to accept those consequences?
You’re letting your imagination get the best of you.I take a deep breath. “I’m guessing the wedding won’t take place at St. Patrick’s?” In a way, I’m glad about that. I don’t want to relive my first wedding day on my second.
“No, it won’t,” Luca confirms. “Viktor will want to be married at the Orthodox church, I’m sure.” He hesitates. “Do you want to meet him before? I can arrange it, if—”
“No.” I cut him off sharply, my heart suddenly rising into my throat. If I have to see Viktor beforehand, meet him before there’s no turning back, I’m not sure if I’ll be able to do it. “I’ll see him on our wedding day. That’s how arranged marriages are meant to be, aren’t they? Bad luck to see the bride before the wedding?”
Luca manages a small smile. “I’m glad to hear that you can find some humor in this, Caterina.”
“I wouldn’t have survived all of this so far if I couldn’t.” I pause, taking a deep breath. “I’m trusting you, Luca,” I say softly, trying hard not to betray how frightened I truly am. Standing here, in the crisp, masculine office that my father once inhabited and now belongs to Luca, where he and Franco planned and schemed and laughed and were once like brothers, I can feel the walls closing in. I’m trapped, and there’s no way out.
All I can do is try to make the best of it.
“I promise you, Caterina, you’ll be safe.” His face looks drawn again, tired, and I can tell this is taking a lot out of him. I can’t find it in myself to feel sorry for him, though. He isn’t the one who will have to lie down with a Russian, with the leader of the Bratva.
My stomach twists at the thought. Will he be cold? Cruel? Will he hurt me for his own pleasure? Or will he try to force me to like it, so that he can feel better about himself?
I push the thought out of my head, feeling myself turn pale. I can’t think about that right now. I’ll face it head-on when the time comes. And if I have any choice in the matter at all—
One night is essential, I know. It will have to be a marriage in every respect, consummated and legal. I’m not a blushing virgin to not understand what’s required of me. But if Viktor truly intends not to harm me inanyway, then it’s possible I can ask for my own bed, free of him. He can fuck whoever he wants. I won’t care. So long as it keeps him away from me.
He’s made his demands already. I fully intend to find out if there’s any that I can make in return.
But I don’t say any of that to Luca. It won’t help for him to know that I’m already scheming how to skirt my marital duties when it comes to Viktor, and there’s nothing he could do about it, anyway. I won’t have him brokering the terms of my marriage bed. Viktor and I will hash it out after the vows have been said, one way or another.
I’m determined to hold my own in this marriage, however I can. Even if it terrifies me to do so.
I text Sofia on the drive back to my own home.It’s done,I type, feeling my heart sink seeing it in black and white.I’m marrying Viktor.
The reply comes almost immediately.Oh, Cat. I’m so sorry.
