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Just keep up the act of a good little bratva princess until Misha returns.
I take the bite and swallow hard.
You can always call Armani.
I shake my head at the thought. Armani has no power in the bratva.
Karlin shoves a big bite of the rare cooked steak into his mouth, and I almost gag at the sight. Grabbing my glass of water, I take a couple of sips, hoping it will settle my stomach.
Now that I know Karlin a little better, I wonder how I ever thought he was attractive. He has a crooked nose like it’s been broken one too many times. His lips are thin and always turned down.
Just as I’m about to force another bite of mashed potatoes down my throat, Karlin says, “During our dinners, you better pay attention to how I like my food. If you fuck up, I’ll beat you.”
So much for all the cooking lessons Mrs. Aslanhov gave me. Apparently, this man only eats shit.
“You won’t move a thing in my house, and I don’t want any of your belongings lying around. If you fuck up, I’ll beat you.”
This time he looks me dead in the eyes as he repeats the threat.
“I will give you an allowance, and you’ll only use it to buy food. If you spend anything on yourself–”
“You’ll beat me,” I mutter. “I get the message.”
The cutlery drops from his hands, and in a heartbeat, he’s towering over the table, and the back of his hand connects with the side of my head. The blow is so hard it throws me off the chair, and I sprawl across the floor.
For a dazed moment my ear rings and my vision blurs, then everything comes back into focus.
My ear is on fire from the slap as I push myself up off the floor. I climb to my feet and suck in a shaky breath as I turn to look at Karlin.
He throws money onto the table then pins me with a look that spells nothing good for me. “Now that we’ve discussed the terms of our marriage, you’ll behave or bear the consequences.”
My bottom lip trembles, and I bite down on it to keep the tears back.
Yes, I’ve been slapped before, but it doesn’t lessen the shock.
For a moment, I fantasize about grabbing the steak knife and plunging it into his neck. But it’s only for a moment.
I nod to show that I heard him, and when he grabs my arm again, I feel like a rag doll being yanked from one place to the next.
I feel like a mouse without a spine.
I’ve always felt like that because everyone is bigger than me.
I’ve gone from being a bag of bones in the orphanage to being a vile monster’s punching bag.
It’s funny how once your life has taken a particular path, you can’t change things.
Misha will forgive me if I call him.
You can’t ruin your brother’s honeymoon. You knew what would happen, and you still mouthed off to Karlin. Just behave for the next two weeks.
Chapter 8
Tiana
When I got home from the first dinner, I told Mr. and Mrs. Aslanhov what had happened. Mr. Aslanhov warned me not to screw up the deal for him, and Mrs. Aslanhov looked at the marks on my neck and told me it could’ve been worse. It was my fault for provoking Karlin.
Staring at my contact list for the hundredth time, I’m actually thinking about calling Alek.
Alek’s dealing with his own shit. I can’t force my problem on him.
Opening my chat with Misha, I start to type.
I need you to come home. Mr. Aslanhov has arranged a marriage with Karlin Makarova. He’s a monster, Misha. He manhandles me and slapped me. Come home and stop the arrangement. I want to be in a happy marriage like you are. Please come home. I need you.
I stare at the words and once again end up deleting the message.
Letting out a sigh, I close my eyes.
I’ve never felt so alone in my life.
It’s been five days since Misha’s wedding. I’ve been on two dates with Karlin. On the second one, he ignored my existence while he got a lap dance from a gorgeous blonde. I’m not complaining, rather her than me.
Still, I can’t help but worry that Karlin can lose his temper at any second and beat me to a pulp.
My phone starts to vibrate, making my eyes snap open. Seeing Armani’s name flashing on the screen, my heart starts to race in my chest.
I quickly answer the call and press the device to my ear. “Hello?”
“Hey, piccola. How are you?”
Hearing his deep and calm voice sends a shiver through my body.
“Ah…I’m…okay.”
“What are you doing?” he asks.
“I’m sitting on my bed.” I roll my eyes at myself because I feel so ridiculously awkward whenever I interact with Armani.
No wonder he thinks I’m a child.
