Aleksandra
The day of the wedding…
I have no way of contacting Antonio again. I still don’t have a phone. Mine was abandoned at Antonio’s home, and Mikhail has forbidden me from contacting the outside world.
The engagement party was a rouse.
I’m to marry Luka tonight.
And if that’s not bad enough, we’re leaving for Russia tomorrow. A country that I haven’t visited since I was a child. It’s not my home, and I suspect it isn’t Luka’s, either. But Mikhail has made the arrangements, setting us up with a place to live, travel documents, and transportation.
And Luka knows better than to defy Mikhail.
Unlike Antonio, who refuses to bow down to my brother or anyone else, Luka would never betray his boss.
To Luka, I will always come second.
It’s never been about what I want. It’s always been about what’s best for Mikhail, and getting us out of the country and away from him is his priority. But it’s not best for the twins or me.
The staff around the house are bustling around getting ready for the wedding. I’m trying not to puke.
Do I lie to Luka and tell him I’m pregnant with Antonio’s child?
I doubt that would help. Luka has already agreed to be a father to Sophia and Liam. While he isn’t particularly warm or friendly with the children, he isn’t cold-hearted, either.
But he isn’t their father, and I don’t love Luka.
Will Antonio show up tonight, and if he does, will he arrive before the wedding? I told him seven o’clock, but the wedding has been moved up to two hours.
There’s a wedding gown in my room, hanging on the back of the door.
The sun is setting, and all I can think about is taking the kids and running. But we wouldn’t get far without help.
And Luka isn’t going to help me flee.
While he doesn’t love me, he won’t betray Mikhail.
* * *
Day fades to night. I wear the dress required, not because I want to, but because there is little choice. Whether I wear a wedding gown, sweatpants, or nothing, I will still be forced to endure a wedding against my will.
The dress fits well, considering I had no say in picking it out or trying it on previously. There are plenty of gowns in my bedroom closet that they likely used one to determine my size.
I’ll require help with zipping the back, but I refuse to struggle and try to do the task on my own.
“Mama!” Sophia shouts as she beats on the door with her fist, and it flings open in haste. The girl knows to knock, but she doesn’t understand the principle of waiting to be let inside. And there’s no lock from the inside on my door.
Anyone can come and go as they please, which irritates me to my wit’s end.
Sophia is dressed in a daisy yellow dress. It’s frilly and fancy, and she twirls around to show me the new gown that she’s been gifted to wear tonight. “I look like a princess!” she squeals with laughter.
Liam tramples into the room a few moments later. He looks incredibly dashing in his black suit and white dress shirt. His face is wearing a scowl, his cheeks red.
He stomps on the wooden floor and hands me his matching daisy yellow tie. “Help,” he says, thrusting the bowtie at me.
Liam doesn’t appear the least bit pleased to be dressing up for tonight, and I’m not sure if he even understands what’s going on, that his mother is being forced to marry a man she doesn’t love.
I’ve tried to shield my children, but it’s not like I’ve spoken to them at any length about the wedding or Luka.
They must have questions.
“You both look incredible,” I say, and I kneel to Liam’s level, securing the bowtie to finish his ensemble neatly. If I weren’t being forced to wed, I’d soak up the experience a little more, but all I can do is a glance at the clock.
Will Antonio show up when it’s too late, and I’m married to Luka?
What happens then? Will Antonio fight for me or let me go?
A heavy set of boots trample down the hallway. I glance up at the impending figure in the door. I half-expect to see Luka, but it isn’t him.
Mikhail is always dressed in his black suit, white dress shirt, and shiny black shoes.
“Sister,” he says with his thick Russian accent. It’s thicker than mine. I’ve spent years trying not to sound like the family and blend in with those in the city.
I pinch my lips and rise to my feet.
Sophia hurries behind me at Mikhail’s presence. Can she feel the danger brooding right off him?
Liam stares up at Mikhail, not the least bit afraid or intimidated. “Why do I have to dress like you?” Liam asks.
Although I imagine it isn’t intentional, Mikhail glares down at Liam, snarling. It’s just his way. He’s not the least bit great with kids. I don’t know how Liam isn’t terrified of Uncle Mikhail.
“You don’t like the way I dress?” Mikhail asks. There’s a hint of amusement in his tone, and I worry how Liam answers.
If he insults his uncle, he very well could be disciplined, and I don’t want that to happen to my child. But if I intervene, the punishment will be ten times more severe for both of us.
“It’s hot,” Liam says and wiggles in his suit. He pops the bowtie off and unbuttons his suit coat.
“Do you hear this kid?” Mikhail jabs at Liam. “One day, you’ll be expected to wear a suit and dress like the family when you take on the business.”
I don’t want my son to become like his uncle or father, the head of the bratva or the mafia. But I hold my tongue. I know better than to start a war with my brother. At least I don’t want him to know that I’m about to betray his plans to marry me off to Luka.
The least I can do is keep my head down until Antonio shows up. If he comes to help. There’s no guarantee he’ll get in through the front gates, let alone be able to help me.
“I want to be an astronaut,” Liam says, staring up at Mikhail. “Your job is boring.”
Frankly, Liam has no idea what Mikhail does for a living.
I’m grateful that I have been able to shield Liam as much as possible while living under Mikhail’s roof. The bratva aren’t the least bit secretive about their orders or what they do to prisoners.
Eventually, Liam and Sophia won’t be blind to the violence. Another reason I have to get out while I still can, and moving to Russia would only be worse.
Maybe Luka won’t be directly taking orders from Mikhail, but there are other bosses in Russia. The bratva doesn’t only do business in New York City.
Nikita wanders down the hallway. “Boss,” he says, poking his head into my room.
“Do you hear this guy?” Mikhail jabs a thumb in Liam’s direction. He gives a hearty laugh like he’s not the least bit offended. I don’t know if it’s a show he’s putting on for his men, like Nikita, or he’s not the least bit bothered by Liam’s remark.
I hope it’s the latter, but I’m not confident.
“What is it?” Mikhail asks, glancing at his employee.
“There’s an uninvited guest downstairs,” Nikita says, glaring at me.
Could it be Antonio? He wouldn’t waltz up to the front door and expect a warm greeting.
Unless he’s trying to plan a diversion.