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Chapter One

Nadia

I t’s my wedding day.

Unlike a lot of women in the Bratva, I don’t feel nervous. I’m ready to do my duty. To marry Viktor Smirnov.

It’s not that I love him. In fact, I barely know him. We’ve spoken a few times over the past couple of years but he’s still a stranger in so many ways. He’s also a lot older than me at thirty-five years old to my twenty-one years.

And yet, I’m not nervous. Viktor has never shown that he’ll hurt me. I know what pain is. My father did that to me and my sister, Anya, enough over the years, especially after we lost our mother when we were children. Because I know pain, I know how much of a relief it is not to experience it.

I sit before my vanity mirror and comb my hair. In just a few hours, I’ll be married. No longer Nadia Belov. Instead, I’ll be Nadia Smirnov. It will take some getting used to but I’ve had a few years to think about it.

When I was seventeen and Anya first married her husband, Erik Koslov, he and my father made a deal with Viktor to betroth us until I turned eighteen. Viktor had no desire to marry a minor. In the Bratva, some men marry incredibly young women and no one bats an eye. Viktor, fortunately, didn’t want me that young. But now that I’m twenty-one, he’s come for me .

I’m not even sure he likes me. I think he’s only marrying me for political gain with Erik. My sister’s husband is one of the most powerful Bratva men in all of New York.

A knock on the door makes me gasp. It’s my father’s fault that I startle easily. “Yes?”

“It’s Anya. Can I come in?”

I set my hairbrush down. The brown strands left behind in it look so messy. Not befitting of a bride.

Anya comes into the room, looking radiant in her loungewear. She’s always been effortlessly beautiful with her striking red hair and blue eyes, whereas I’ve always blended into the shadows. Not many people pay attention to shy girls with brown hair. We barely look like sisters sometimes.

It’s one of the reasons I think our father hurt us so much: he thought our mother stepped out on him. He never did a paternity test that I’m aware of but he still punished us for it, even without proof.

“Shall we get you ready?” Anya asks, squeezing my shoulder.

“Yes.”

“You know, we could still make a run for it. You don’t have to marry Viktor today.”

“Anya, you can’t always save me. Besides, Erik is so close to securing his deal with Viktor. If I ran, I would ruin everything and I can’t do that to him.”

In the past two years since I’ve lived with Anya and Erik, I’ve gotten to know my brother-in-law. While he’s a little cold around the edges, he’s really shown a kindness towards me and Anya. He saved us both from our father. I can’t hurt Erik; he’s like family to me now.

“I’m just not sure if I’m ready to lose you yet,” Anya admits. She’s been taking care of me ever since our mother died when she was ten and I was seven.

“It’s not like we won’t talk. I doubt Viktor will keep me from you. I haven’t gotten that sense from him.”

She sighs deeply. “I know. It’s just tough for me. You’re my baby sister. I fought so hard to save you and now you’re going to marry a Bratva man. You know how they can be.”

I know very well. I don’t have any physical scars to prove it but I have scars buried within me from how our father treated me. Anya has some physical scars though. She took the brunt force of our father’s fury before she married Erik.

“I think Viktor will be kind. Kind enough,” I amend. “I have to believe it. Because the other alternative is too much to even think about. ”

“I get it. When I married Erik, I was so scared. I thought he was going to beat me every day like Father. But he never did. And overtime, he changed. He became softer. Nicer. Warmer. I love him now. I know it’s possible. I hope the same for you. That you can find love with Viktor some day. I don’t want you to be in constant fear.”

I grip her hand on my shoulder. “I don’t want that either. But because I’ve seen you and Erik over the past two years, I know it’s possible to find love even through an arranged marriage. I have hope.”

“I still can’t get you to change your mind?”

“No. This is my fate, Anya. It was always going to happen.”

She nods, resigned. Women in the Bratva usually serve two purposes: marriage and kids. Anya has completed the first one. I know her and Erik are working on the second one.

I might be a mom someday. Unlike Anya, who raised me and has a lot of motherly instincts, I can’t imagine myself as a mother. Not yet anyway. I feel too young. Too inexperienced. I feel like the world might swallow me whole.

“Ok then. Let’s get you dressed and ready.”

Within the hour, I’m in my wedding dress – a simple conservative gown that covers my arms and legs. I was raised to hide my body away. I still can’t fully shake the teachings my father instilled in me, even though I hate him.

My hair is around my shoulders in simple waves. I look elegant. For the first time in my life, I look like a woman.

“You’re beautiful,” Anya whispers, hugging me from behind as we look in the mirror.

My inhale is shaky. “I’m ready to go.”

We walk down the stairs of Anya and Erik’s large, gorgeous home. Erik’s original home was blown up in a fight with a scary Italian man named Dante Moretti. Erik tried to kill him but didn’t succeed. He’s been waiting for Dante to strike for the past two years but he never did. I’m not sure what happened to him. No one is.

Their new house is a better fit for them since they were able to choose it together. I hope one day I can have a good enough marriage with Viktor that we can make big decisions together. I want to be treated like an equal.

But mostly, I want to be listened to. My father never did. His constant dismissals always hurt.

Erik is waiting for us in the foyer. Handsome in a rugged dark brooding prince kind of way. I don’t have any romantic feelings for my brother-in-law but I can recognize that he is handsome. So is Viktor, so at least there’s that. I’m not marrying an ugly, old man.

“You look beautiful, Nadia,” he tells me.

I give him a shy smile, ducking my head. Whenever I’m around men, my shyness comes out in tenfold. “Thank you.”

Erik’s eyes slide over to Anya. “You didn’t try to get her to escape?”

“I offered but she wasn’t having it.”

They share a smile between them. The way they’ve become so at ease with each other is a beautiful sight.

Erik turns back to me. “It’s time to go.”

The wedding is being held in a beautiful glass chapel in the woods, about an hour away from the city. Viktor is more reserved. I know he wanted a wedding away from the chaos of New York.

Across from the chapel is a rustic hotel where the reception will take place. It’s where I’m at now as we wait for more guests to arrive. Anya and I hunker down in one of the hotel’s largest suites.

When someone knocks on the door, Anya opens it, revealing Ivan Romanov and his wife, Viktoriya, and their eighteen year old daughter Elena.

Ivan is a partner of Erik’s, despite some troubles they faced in the past. Mainly, Anya killing one of Ivan’s men in self-defense to protect both me and Elena. Ivan has never quite forgiven her for that.

But he and I have no troubles between us.

“I just wanted to come and wish you congratulations,” he says, taking my hand and shaking it with wild abandon.

“Yes, congratulations,” Viktoriya says with an upturned nose. “Though I wouldn’t have chosen that particular dress. It dwarfs you, girl.”

“Nadia’s dress is beautiful,” Anya says pointedly .

“Don’t mind my wife. She just says what’s on her mind.”

“That’s the problem,” Anya mutters under her breath so only I can hear, making me smile.

“I think you look pretty,” Elena says. She’s come into her own over the past four years, even though she still has a lot of awkward teenage-ness to her. She holds her arms around her body like she’s unsure of it. It wasn’t that long ago I was exactly like her. I still am her in so many ways.

“You should look like that,” Viktorya says to Elena. “Graceful. Elegant. Instead, your hair is a mess.” She tsks , running her hand through Elena’s brown hair. Her own blonde hair is in a perfect updo.

Elena’s shoulders slump. “I tried to make it look nice. I had to do it on my own.”

“That’s no excuse.”

“I think Elena looks beautiful,” I cut in. “Your dress is really pretty.”

Elena beams under my praise. It’s clear she doesn’t get a lot of it from her own mother. I know the feeling. My father always made me feel like a bug under his shoe for the first seventeen years of my life.

Viktoriya sniffs, showing her disdain for my comment.

Ivan smiles tightly. “We should be getting to the chapel. Take our seats.”

We say our goodbyes and then there’s just me and Anya. We smile at each other but before we get the chance to say anything, there’s another knock on the door.

This time, it’s not a family of three. It’s just one young woman that I’ve never met before but I know exactly who she is.

Julia Smirnov. Viktor’s younger sister. Much younger sister. At only eighteen, she’s younger than I am. Viktor has been her protector for years and usually keeps her hidden away. But today, she’s let out to attend her brother’s wedding.

Julia is the epitome of classic beauty. Soft brown hair. Large eyes that make her sort of look like Audrey Hepburn. Petite. She holds herself with so much grace even though she’s so young. It’s interesting to compare her to Elena. They’re the same age and yet seem drastically different.

“Hello, Nadia,” Julia says, gliding over to me. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“You too.”

“My brother never really let me leave the house. For my own safety, as you know.”

“Isn’t that a red flag?” Anya asks. “He’s kept you locked up. Will he do the same to Nadia? ”

“No. I don’t believe so. It’s just that I was so young. But now that I’m an adult, I believe he’ll offer me more freedom.”

My heart begins to beat faster. Hearing Julia speaks makes me worried. Anya has a good point. Will Viktor lock me up for my own ‘protection?’

“I can’t wait to be sisters,” Julia says. “It will be nice to have someone else in the house. It can get so gloomy there.”

“I can’t wait,” I whisper.

“I can’t stay long. Viktor likes to keep an eye on me. He’s so worried something will happen to me. It comes from a place of love,” she explains after seeing Anya’s suspicious look. “Our father had me when Viktor was already seventeen. Then he passed away a few years later, meaning Viktor had to raise me himself. He’s more like a father than a brother. He’s just protective. From what I understand of your relationship, you raised Nadia, didn’t you, Anya?”

“I did. Our father wasn’t a very good… dad.”

“I don’t want this to cast a bad light on my brother.” Julia takes my hand. “Please, Nadia. Don’t be worried. He’ll want to protect you but I don’t think he’ll want to keep you as a prisoner.”

“Think?” Anya asks. “Or know?”

Julia lets me go and faces Anya head on. “I know. Now, I need to get back to the chapel. But I just couldn’t wait to meet you, Nadia. I can’t wait to be sisters. And you too, Anya.” She leaves with a smile.

“She’s… a little strange,” Anya murmurs.

“Be nice.”

“I am being nice. I’m just saying. I can tell she’s been kept away from other people for most of her life. But she seems sweet. And I’m happy you’ll gain another sister. Just don’t replace her with me.”

“I could never. You’re my sister, Anya. Always and forever.”

Right as we hug, another knock on the door comes, breaking us apart.

“Jesus, how many people are going to show up?” Anya mutters as she opens the door.

On the other side is…

Our father.

Sergei Belov. Middle age. Grey hair. Slouched shoulders. But no less powerful. He has a gaze that could root you right in place, preventing you from leaving. It’s why I was so scared of him growing up. I wasn’t sure what he would do to me and I never felt like I could run.

“Hello, Nadia,” he says, completely ignoring Anya. I know he blames her and Erik for taking me away from him and moving me in with them.

“You’re not allowed in here,” Anya growls, blocking him with her body.

“Don’t make me hurt you. Your husband isn’t here to protect you. I saw him down by the chapel. He wouldn’t get here in time to stop me.”

Anya’s shudder is visible. Erik has been the only person to save her from our father. He stood up for her. He stopped our father from hitting her. And he broke off his partnership with our father to save her.

I moved in with Anya and Erik four years ago when I was only seventeen. As a minor, legally, Erik kidnapped me by taking me from my father but I was glad to go.

Of course, my father never forgave Erik. Things have been tense between them ever since. He tried to get me back over the years but Erik always stopped him.

Now, I’ll be married to Viktor and my father still won’t be able to get his hands on me again. At least, I hope not. Maybe it’s a good thing Viktor locks the women in his life up to protect them. I’ll take spending my days trapped in a room rather than be with my father.

“Leave,” Anya growls.

“I have a right to wish my daughter congratulations on her wedding day. Besides, I’ll be walking her down the aisle after all. I should be here.”

“Erik is going to walk her down the aisle.”

“But people will talk. I’m not dead. They’ll wonder why I’m not the one to give her away.”

“I don’t fucking care,” Anya snaps. “You will not touch her. You will not get even close enough to touch her.”

He looks over Anya’s head right at me. Like prey, I’m rooted to my spot. I want to run but my legs refuse to move. “Nadia, you want me to walk you down the aisle, don’t you? You don’t want me to hurt your sister, do you?”

“Don’t listen to him,” Anya tells me. “Even if he does hurt me, Erik will make sure our father can’t hurt you. Don’t let him walk you down the aisle.”

My throat is suddenly raw as all the moisture in my mouth disappears.

I’ve barely seen my father in the past four years since I moved in with Anya and Erik. A part of me pushed him from my mind. I almost forgot what he looked like .

But now here he is, standing right before me. He could so easily push Anya to the side and grab me and take me back to his house where he could beat me to death.

“Come on, Nadia. I am your father. Stop being ridiculous and let me walk you down the aisle.”

“Don’t,” Anya repeats.

He finally does what I was worried he would do.

He pushes Anya to the side and storms into the room, advancing on me. I stumble back and trip on my dress, falling right to the floor, and landing on my back. I gasp as I stare up at my father hovering above me.

“Your dress is going to get wrinkled. People will talk about how I have a messy daughter. You will not ruin this for me, girl. Now get up.”

“Leave her alone,” Anya snarls, charging at our father and pushing him to the side. Without hesitating, he backhands her across the face. Anya falls to the floor like a block of ice. Hard and sudden and cold.

I scramble upright and shove our father back. “No. I will not walk down the aisle with you. You do not have the right to give me away.”

“I will hurt her.” He grabs Anya by her hair and tugs, making her gasp. “Do not test me, Nadia.”

My throat seizes up. I can’t speak. Everything goes numb.

I want to save my sister but I can’t find the words. It’s in this moment that I still feel like the little girl who was terrified of her father. I haven’t changed at all. I haven’t grown.

I’m still so afraid.

“Let her go.” The deep voice cuts through my senses. Erik. He’s here.

He rushes over to my father and jerks him away from Anya. “I told you to never talk to either of them again.”

“You might own Anya but you do not own Nadia. I can talk to my daughter.”

“Well your daughter is twenty-one now. She’s an adult. You can’t force her to talk to you if she doesn’t want to. Now, leave.”

“Nadia?” my father snaps. “Tell him. Tell him that I’m going to walk you down the aisle.”

I hesitate. It should be so easy to say but it’s not. Too much baggage from years of pain with him. I can’t say anything.

“Leave,” Anya says, standing up. Erik silently checks in with her and she nods, telling him she’s ok. “Leave. Nadia doesn’t want you to walk her down the aisle. So just go. ”

He glares at both me and Anya. It’s so intense and cold and scary that it makes all the air leave my body. Then he leaves the room, taking the coldness with him.

I slump against a nearby chair. “He still scares me.”

“I know.” Anya pulls me into a hug. “Are you ok?”

“I should be the one asking you that. He hurt you. Again. He didn’t hurt me.”

“What he did to me doesn’t matter. All that matters is that you’re ok.”

I look up at my big sister in wonder. She’s so intent on making sure I’m safe, she never worries about her own self. I wish I could be just as selfless as her. She doesn’t even know that I would give up my life to save her own.

If I found the courage to do so, that is. I’m still working on that part.

“Are you both ok?” Erik asks.

“Yes.” Anya squeezes his hand. “My hair is ruined but I can quickly fix it. Why is he even here, Erik?”

“Because I couldn’t stop him from attending his own daughter’s wedding. He played a part in the deal with Viktor. I know he still works with Viktor in some regards. I couldn’t exactly kick him out but trust me, I wanted to. If I had my way, I would have stomped right on his face.”

I shiver. Erik used to be known as The Boogeyman when him and Anya married four years ago. He was known for the torture he would do to his enemies. I’ve seen softer sides of him since then so I know he’s not a monster.

But that doesn’t make him a good man. He still has a darkness inside of him. Does Viktor have that same darkness? Will I have to fear my husband once we’re married? There’s so much I don’t know about Viktor. So much to uncover. The unknown is terrifying.

“But I will make sure he doesn’t get close to you again,” Erik says. “I know you might be scared after what just happened, so I’ll give you two a minute. But then the wedding does need to start.”

I nod. I know my duty.

Erik leaves us and I help Anya fix her hair, neither of us speaking. There’s a silent bond between us. We just survived another encounter with our father and hopefully one day, we’ll never have to deal with him again.

Once Anya and I calm down, we head out of the hotel with Erik beside us and go over to the chapel. All of our guests have arrived by now. There’s no one outside waiting. It’s almost eerie, like an old Victorian graveyard .

“I’m going in,” Anya tells me. “Good luck.” She gives me one more hug before heading into the chapel, leaving me and Erik alone.

He slides my hand into the crook of his arm and then we’re walking into the chapel ourselves. All of our guests stand up as the music begins. There’s at least fifty people in attendance, most of them Erik’s men or Viktor’s men. People I barely know but I have met in passing. Some I’ve never met at all.

This wedding isn’t for me. It’s for Viktor and his status. It’s to show us off for his reputation. All Bratva men do it.

Viktor stands at the end of the aisle with a priest, looking handsome in a navy suit. His dark hair is a little ruffled and his stubble defines his jaw, reminding me that he’s not a young boy. He’s a man. He’ll soon be my husband. He’ll soon consume all of me.

My hand tightens on Erik’s arm.

I manage to walk down the aisle without stumbling. My eyes catch my father, who’s sitting in a pew, glaring at me, sulking. I quickly look away.

Viktor doesn’t smile at me but neither does he glare. His expression is just neutral. Neither happy or sad. He knew this day was coming just like I did. He’s not marrying me for love but for strength.

I don’t take it personally. It’s what people do within the Bratva. They marry for political gain, and rarely love.

I reach the end of the aisle and Erik places my hand in Viktor’s. I stand before the man who will become my husband.

“We are gathered here today,” the priest begins, “to witness the joining of these two lives in holy matrimony.”

Viktor’s hand is strong and warm. It’s nice, actually.

The priest continues to speak but all I can hear is the beat of my heart. It’s surprisingly steady. I can do this. I can be happy with this man. I can make it work.

And then the priest’s words come back to me. “If anyone objects to this marriage, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

The chapel is silent. No one would dare object to our marriage.

And then the doors burst open and a man enters. “I object.”

People gasp and turn to look at the man. I recognize him instantly. He’s the man who terrorized Erik’s life four years ago.

Dante Moretti.

And he’s here, at my wedding.