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“Must be the brother.” I heard my voice travel across space and shoot through time before I swallowed back my words. To my credit, I sounded strong and brave, and not at all like a chicken. “Well, one of the brothers,” I corrected, noticing another male that stood beside him with the same notable Vadim features.
I wasn’t perfect at remembering faces since I’d only seen them once in a dimly lit office, but I would recognize their striking features anywhere.
There were two very gorgeous women behind them. Both of them shared a look of surprise and shot a look at me, like they were somehow...impressed?
Even Vlad looked at me funny. And he barely ever looked at me funny. It was the look someone gave a person who stood atthe edge of a cliff and laughed when another said, “I’ll push you right now if you don’t stop laughing,”—if that made any sense.
I was the person standing at the edge of the cliff and Vlad’s scary brother looked like he was going to put a bullet through me before he pushed me, and yet, I laughed. Not literally, though. That would have been crazy.
“Mariana, that’s Nikolai, my second oldest brother. Behind him is his wife, Giselle. Beside her, Lillianna; the wife of my oldest brother, Sergey. Head of The Bratva.” Vlad hurriedly fired off the introductions like it was something unnecessary and timewasting that needed to be done with as soon as possible.
It was unnecessary though. I already knew their names, it was their wives I didn’t know. He pointed at Sergey and motioned to me. “Brother, this is...”
He held up a hand, grimacing. “I am not interested in getting to know her for a second time.” He marched forward, each step slow, purposeful, calculated. His boots clicked against the checkered marble tiles as he advanced; his gaze, dark, and scanning me, like an enemy pissing on his territory. “You.”
He breathed out the word like it was poison on his tongue. Up close, I could spot the tick of the muscle on his jaw and the gentle upheave of his broad chest. He looked from me, to Vlad, and back to me; the scowl on his face deepening.
“I donot approve.”
I cringed internally. He didn’t have to say it, I could smell the loathe off of him. Regardless, I raised my chin proudly—ignoring the ridiculous height difference between us—and smiled. I made sure it was extra bright and chirpy.
“Okay.” I shrugged, and he looked down at me, his pointed nostrils flaring. “Can I have my room now?”
***
Three rapid-fire knocks came against the door. It sounded muffled against the hardwood, floating until the sound grew lighter. Then, it came again. Three rapid-fire...Bang! Bang! Bang!In quick succession. I saw pictures of the man’s lifeless eyes, bloodied head, and body dropping to the ground, and more flashes of a silver gun aimed at my head. Only, this time, the hand didn’t drop and the face wasn’t clear. But he held on to the trigger and squeezed.
My eyes flew open and I gasped, filling my lungs with air. One hand bunched a fistful of my silk nightgown, gripping my chest, while the other squeezed the soft cotton bedsheets.
“Mariana?”
My head swirled towards the door. The echo of my name slipped through the cracks underneath and above, and I held my breath. The voice was unfamiliar.
“Hello? Mariana? Are you awake?” Another voice came, still unfamiliar. I frowned.
“Who is it?”
“Lilianna and Giselle.”
The wrinkles on my forehead relaxed and I got out of the bed to unlock the door. I opened, ready to apologize for keeping them standing for long, when, “Hi, good morning, I am so...” I trailed off, taking in their matching black outfits. Tank tops, jeans, and boots. They both had their hair up in sleek ponytails as well.
“Oh, um...” I pointed at their shoes, a coy smile on my lips. “Is it okay to ask why you two are dressed like that?”
They shared that knowing look between themselves, again, and busted out laughing. “Doesn’t look so good, does it?”
“It looks great,” my smile grew wider, but I wasn’t sure if I was allowed to share in their amusement just yet. “It’s just... I think Sergey doesn’t want me here, so it is possible he sent the two of you to get rid of me.”
Lillianna, the one with the warmer smile and kinder eyes, placed a hand on my shoulder and tittered. “Mariana, we just came here to tell you, we like you a lot. Don’t mind Sergey, he’s always like that,” she said, and I laughed.
Thirty minutes later, I was all showered, well fed with an apple pie Giselle made, and marched out of the house with them to a place they described as the training center. That explained why they looked like symbols ofthe great rebellion.
Apparently, the warVlad hinted at was real, and it was coming. Calling off the engagement with Sophia not only exposed the Vadims to heat from something they called the Outfit in Chicago, but they were a moving target for the Russos—the Camorras—as well.
We had to be prepared, and theweincluded me. I was a part of their household now, for as long as either of us remained unsafe.
We got to the sectionalized field and the morning sun hit warm against my skin. It was a good thing I had opted for white tank tops, my usual ripped shorts, and a pair of white sneakers. There was no way I was joining the rebels.
I swept my hair up in a bun and followed them to a chipped long brown table where different guns and ammunition were spread across. As they had already explained, we had to pick our weapons before joining the men on the field. Liliannatook a Glock, Giselle chose a rifle, and I saw Vlad’s silver Gsh-18 amongst the heap. I nabbed it off the table.
