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I speak the language he’s so proud of, but I don’t have an accent when speaking English.
That will help me stay hidden in the real world.
“In English, Stasia. I’m trying to help you.” Papa didn’t make Katya learn Russian.
“Luka Gideon, the pakhan in Boston.” I sniff, figuring she’s going to find out. “Papa wants to form an alliance in exchange for more bratoks so he can crush the Irish and the Italians.”
Ugh, that slimeball, Dante Caruso…
I hope my father starts a war and kills him first. Asking me to suck his dick like I’m a whore.
“Oh,” Katya says, sounding worried for our enemies.
“Oh?” I repeat with my hands on my hips. “The man is twice my age!”
“Forty-two isn’t that old.”
Like it matters. I don’t want to get married. I don’t want to be anyone’s pawn or prisoner.
“The blood under his fingernails is older than me.”
“Papa kills people, too.”
“Yeah, so? He’ll never murder me.” Only, I’m not sure anymore.
“I doubt your husband would murder you.”
“No. But he can hurt me.” I sit on the edge of my bed and whine out loud, “How can Papa do this to me?”
“Perhaps you can ask someone for help instead of leaving.”
“Like who?” I play dumb because I already have.
“The Irish. Their enforcer, Lachlan, seemed—”
My heart jumps into my throat. “You stay away from him, Katya. He killed a priest.”
“What?” she shrieks. “If he killed a priest, why isn’t he in jail?”
I roll my eyes, feeling how sore they are from crying.
“Did you just get here yesterday? No one in the brotherhood, the mafia, or the Irish mob goes to jail around here.”
“Maybe he had a good reason to kill the priest.”
“Anyone who would risk the damnation of his soul won’t sympathize with a Bratva princess.”
“I guess you’re right.”
I shake my head and think about the Irish enforcer, who, if nothing else, is loyal to his family.
The O’Rourkes are vicious, but they have a code of honor.
“I’d marry Lachlan O’Rourke before that Boston monster Papa is selling me to. I’m out of here.”
Katya’s big brown eyes process my words, then widen at me.
Like it hits her that I’m leaving her all alone, she cries out, “Where are you going?”
