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We round the last bookshelf before making it to the front of the store, and I drop the book I was holding, watching it slide across the wood floor in shock. It stops at black leather boots with thick buckles on them. I trail up the long dark figure until I see his piercing eyes— blue as anything, hauntingly sharp. This man, the only man I’m looking at because he has his muddy boot resting on my book, is tattooed just about everywhere I can see except his face; Pale skin, strong jaw, jet black hair, and matching leather attire.
He looks like he just stepped off the stage at a rock concert where women were throwing themselves and their panties at him— looks like he knows it too.
I glance back down at his boot, and he lifts it, picking the muddied book up and walking over to me. The chains on his clothes jingle as his large hand lifts the book to me, boots knocking across the floor. I look at the book and then to Vince, who is standing next to a bald man with a sinister look on his face. He reminds me of a snake, or something so dangerous and unpredictable that you’d plan to avoid it if you sensed where it was coming from.
When I look back atrockstar, I have to tilt my chin to meet his eyes. He smirks, thick rosy lips smugly lowered towards me.
“You dropped this.” He edges the book closer to my chest, and I snatch it out of his hand before he can touch me with it.
“You stepped on it.”
He cocks his head. “I think the phrase you were looking for wasthank you.”
I scoff at him and give Vince a look to let him know that whatever suitor this is, I’m deeply uninterested. He’s clearly an ass-hole. But Vince doesn’t give me a knowing look like he usually does when I want to end an interaction with a suitor. Instead, he licks his lips nervously and takes a step towards us.
“Esperanza—“
“Espie.” I correct him because I can’t stand him saying it a second time, especially not in front of these people, and I’m already on the defense.
“Espie, this is Nikolai Mikhailov,” He motions to the man slightly behind him. “And this is—“
Muddy-bootssteps even closer to me, hand extended. “Adrik Mikhailov, next in line to take over the Bratva.”
I shake his cold hand, but I wish I wouldn’t have because he seems all too pleased that I didn’t hesitate to do it. An odd wave rolls through me as our skin touches, and I pull my hand away quickly, looking over at Vince.
“What’s this about?” I ask, rather boldly, all things considered.
“This is a little complicated—“
“I’m a quick study.” I fold my arms over my chest.
“Right.” He clicks his tongue. “You will have the honor of marrying into the Bratva.”
“I- I what?” My heart is dropping from a high tower, and Vince is the one who’s ripped it out of my chest and threw it over the edge. I’m dizzy, stumbling over my words before continuing. “I don’t understand. I—“
“Thought you said you were a quick study.” Adrik mumbles under his breath that smells like cigarettes and pure ethanol. I stab him with my glare, but he only offers a smug grin.
“This isn’t easy to explain, but a necessary deal was made a few years ago. A deal that involved you and the eldest Mikhailov son. Your marriage is meant to end any wars between our families. Unite our strength as one.” Nikolai slaps Vince on the back like they're best friends, like they haven’t been fighting since before Vince took over for Pops.
“Look, sweetheart,” he begins, and I hate the way he says it. So patronizing. “My son is the best choice you have for making your family untouchable. And you want that, don’t you? Surely, you don’t want to lose another sibling by having weak points.”
“We lost Carlito because of your family.” I bite my tongue on that one. It’s not often I let my bitterness slip out of my mouth. I try to control my temper; Always be pleasant and mild, but the convoluted disrespect of mentioning the very brother he caused to die, is too much for me to keep quiet.
“She’s feisty.” His brows raise as he talks about me like I’m not in the room.
“Not usually.” Vince weakly laughs while simultaneously grimacing. Good. I want him to be uncomfortable. Because this isn’t happening. This man will not become my husband. He doesn’t even look remotely capable of being in a committed relationship, let alone a contractually binding one.
“Well, my boy will like that. He’s tough, needs someone to keep up. They’ll make a fine pair. Don’t you think so?” His words sound scary, like he’s using them to taunt Vince, who only nods along.
“We’ll let you two have your first date here while Nikolai and I discuss the courting length of your arrangement.” I want to scream, throw a fit, make a scene, I don’t know. Anything to give me some semblance of control. I have no interest in this man standing before me, licking his lips like a lion watching his prey. Sanders elbows me, and I realize Adrik has turned down one of the isles of the bookstore.
“Go talk to him, Espie.” He whispers as Vince and Nikolai begin chatting in hushed tones. I grimace and force myself towards Adrik, rounding the corner to see he’s pulled down a history book off the shelf.
“Try not to look so thrilled about being engaged to me.” He snarks, not looking up from the book as he flips through the pages. I tense my brows, shifting my jaw as I take a step forward.
“Sorry.” I force out through my teeth, and now he’s looking up, brows rising from his smug expression.
“You’re sorry?”
