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My chest deflates. “It’s not up to me. I…can’t. He makes me feel special, like my existence has meaning. He doesn’t see me as your daughter or theBratva’s sheltered princess, he sees me as me. Just me. And I want that, Papa. I want to get out of yours and the brotherhood’s shadow. I want to be me.”
I gulp in air after my word vomit. I wouldn’t have been able to say those words if he were facing me. Even though I’m grown now, he’s still that god-like man who finished my stepfather’s life in a blink.
Papa slowly turns around and I expect anger, but his expression remains unperturbed.
I wait for him to say something, but the door barges open and I startle. Damien waltzes inside with that black cat swagger of his.
“I’m sorry, Boss.” My father’s senior guard peeks in. “I’ll escort him out.”
Damien tilts his head in the guard’s direction. “First of all, fuck you. Second of all, fuck off before I stab you.”
Papa motions at his senior guard to leave and he snarls at Damien. “Wait in my office with the others, Orlov.”
“I just want to say something and then I’ll be out of your hair.”
“What?” my father asks with a note of impatience.
“As much as I appreciate Nastyusha for being a vodka lover, I can’t marry her.”
My lips part and I stare at Damien with wide eyes. Never in my wildest dreams would I have expected him to back off. Not after he said he wouldn’t get on my father’s bad side for something he considers trivial—marriage.
“Why not?” Papa’s voice hardens.
“Remember that word I gave to Abe about marrying his daughter? I’m keeping it, after all.”
“You were fine with breaking it not too long ago.”
A dark smile lifts Damien’s lips and he looks like a fallen angel. “That was before I knew who my future wife-to-be is.”
“That doesn’t change anything, Orlov.”
“Yes, it does,Pakhan.”
“Are you choosing a Japanese over a Russian?”
“I’m choosing the Japanese for us. Believe me, you’ll like what I do with this whole fucking thing. Besides, Nastyusha loves that lawyer and I’d rather not kill a citizen and have her slice my throat in my sleep.” He grins at me. “You owe me one.”
And with that, he turns around and leaves, humming a tune.
I keep staring at his back, but that only lasts for a second, until Papa’s guard closes the door.
Before I can wrap my head around what Damien said, Papa’s clipped voice reaches me. “You’ll marry Kirill or Vladimir.”
“Papa!”
“Pick one.”
“Vlad is like my older brother.”
“Kirill then.”
“Papa, please, no. He’s even worse than Damien. Not only is he cunning and manipulative, but he’ll also only use me to become thePakhan.”
“So be it.”
Tears slide down my face. “Is that all I’ve ever been to you? A pawn on a chessboard? A prize for the most suitable?”
He’s silent for a beat before he lets out a long exhale. “I have lung cancer, Nastyusha.”
