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Chapter 1
Alina
Today is my wedding day… and I have no idea who my husband is.
I’d heard whispers of my upcoming nuptials, but I didn’t think Mother would actually go through with it. As the youngest of four siblings, I genuinely thought there were no more strategic marriages for her to deviously carry out.
I foolishly believed that maybe I wouldn’t be shipped off to wed some slimy French politician like my eldest sister, Oksana, or a sketchy arms dealer from Colombia like Nikita, or a shady Russian banker engaging in one too many inside trades like Yasemin.
The news of my marriage hit me from out of nowhere. I woke up this morning fully expecting to go for a leisurely ride on my mare, Polina, through the endless grass fields behind our summer home in the countryside. Imagine my surprise when Mother stormed in, ripped off my covers, and all but dragged me out of bed by the ear.
“Stop crying,” she snaps at me, roughly wiping a ruined tissue over my face. Mother clicks her tongue in disapproval. “Look what you’ve done, Alina. You’ve smudged your mascara!”
My stomach churns as I look around the space. We’ve come straight to a judge’s chambers, which tells me two things: this was a last-minute match, and, unlike my sisters, I will not be getting a grand wedding ceremony. Everything about this screams rushed and secretive, and I’m not going to lie, that stings.
Maybe it’s because Mother doesn’t think I’m worth it. I’ve never been her favorite daughter, and her using me as a throwaway bargaining chip doesn’t exactly convince me otherwise. Unlike Oksana, Nikita, and Yasemin, I get no time to prepare. Probably because Mother knew I’d try to run away at the first opportunity.
“Such a mess,” Mother grumbles as she roughly combs her fingers through my brunette hair. My shoulder-length locks are still tangled and flat on one-side from sleep. That’s how fresh to this horrible situation I am.
I’m definitely not the stunning image of a bride-to-be right now.
“I want to go home,” I plead with her. “Please, Mother, I’ll be good. I don’t want to get married!”
Mother shushes me harshly, exhaling through clenched teeth. “Enough, Alina. The Antonovs are already on their way.”
I blanche, my heart sinking into the pit of my stomach. “The Antonovs?” I rasp. “You’re marrying me off to anAntonov?”
To be fair, Mother doesn’t seem all too pleased, either. The Antonov Bratva has been a thorn in my family’s side for years. A powerhouse in Moscow, both ruthless and exceedingly business savvy, they’ve managed to snap up the lion’s share of control in the city—and have butted heads with my family, the Salkov Bratva, on more than one occasion. Our coexistence is reluctant at best, but from what little I’ve been able to glean listening in on Mother’s phone conversations, our run-ins with the Antonovs have taken a more disagreeable turn of late.
Mother doesn’t tell me much about the family business. I don’t think she ever had any intention of bringing my sisters or me into the fold. What Idoknow is the Antonovs are not to be fucked with. They’re highly resourceful, have a seemingly endless network of powerful contacts, and they’re not above keeping prisoners in their rumored Pit. So why is she marrying me to one?
When I begin to tremble, Mother grips my shoulders tight, digging her perfectly manicured nails into my flesh. “Alina, for the love of God, quit your whimpering!”
“I don’t understand,” I say around a soft sob. “Why are you doing this to me?”
“For peace,” Mother says cryptically.
I frown. Does she mean peace of mind? Literal peace? I don’t think I’ll ever understand this woman.
“Who am I even marrying? One of their lieutenants?”
“No. One of the brothers.”
I feel faint. I know precious little about the Antonov brothers, but what Idoknow isn’t pleasant. There are four of them, I think. Tight knit, incredibly loyal to one another, and deadly. If you cross one, you cross them all. That’s what I’ve heard, anyway. Dread claws through my lungs and leaves them ribboned and bloody.
“You’d have me marry one of those monsters?” I rasp. “Haven’t you heard the rumors? They imprisoned their own uncle!”
“Alina,” Mother hisses, a warning.
“You can’t make me do this.”
“Yes, I can.” Mother glares at me, her dark black eyes cold and dead like a shark. I’ve never known an ounce of kindness from this woman, but this is the first time I’ve ever truly feared her. “If you don’t do as I ask, I’ll sell that beloved horse of yours.”
I hold my breath, tears stinging my eyes. “Leave Polina out of this.”
“You dare take that tone with me? How did I raise such a spoiled girl?”
I’m not spoiled, I want to snap.I just refuse to lie down and let you walk all over me like you did with my sisters.
