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“I can’t even tell Katya?” Keeping this secret will weigh on me. I tell my sister everything.
Saying her name wipes the evil grin off his face.
“Nyet.” He never loved my half-sister, born of his mistress, who dropped her off here when Katya was twelve.
“She’ll find out.” I cross my arms, thinking of how the staff whispers behind his back.
“I love you, Anastasia.” He lays a hand on my shoulder. “This is best for you, my Bratva princess.”
Nodding, I let him peck me on the forehead.
“Da, Papa.” I smile until he turns around, then my frown deepens as reality sinks in.
He’s forcing me to marry a man just like him. A man who will cheat on me the way he did Mother.
She killed herself out of loneliness and heartbreak.
One month…
That gives me time to escape.
CHAPTER TWO
Anastasia
One week later, thanks to my skilled maneuvering, I find myself in a garden at The Orchid, a luxury venue overlooking Astoria Harbor.
The Winter Festival is Papa’s favorite gala and the Italians’. Meanwhile, I’m freezing my ass off waiting for my salvation.
“It’s about time,” I snap at the tall man sauntering toward me.
“I am not the one in trouble, mia cara.” Dante Caruso, the Cosa Nostra underboss, greets me with his usual frown.
He listened patiently yesterday when I told him my father planned to align with the Boston Bratva making Papa much stronger than the Italians and the Irish combined.
“Well, do you have it?” I give his expensive black tux a once-over.
From an inside pocket, he pulls out a brown envelope.
“These are untraceable.” He agreed to help me leave town by giving me money, a new phone, and a fake ID.
I go to snatch the envelope, but he pulls back.
“What’s your problem?”
“If you leave, you can never come back. Your father will kill you for your disloyalty.”
A heavy truth that I’ve considered.
Lips trembling, I keep my head held high.
“My leaving and ruining that Boston alliance benefits you, Caruso.”
“It certainly does.” He drops the envelope and takes out a pack of unfiltered cigarettes.
I have no choice but to bend down and pick it up. It’s not as heavy as I thought.
After digging through the envelope, I look up at his oily forehead filled with harsh lines.
