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Chapter One

Elena

I t’s my nineteenth birthday.

That might not seem a spectacular year like turning eighteen or turning twenty-one but for me, turning nineteen means a few things.

One: it means I’m one step closer to getting married.

And two: that means I won’t have to deal with my mother anymore.

The day of my birthday party – which is always a spectacle for any Bratva woman – my mother, the intense Viktoriya Romanov, has insisted that I make a speech at my party in dedication for her.

“It only makes sense, Elena,” she says as we walk around the large ballroom at the Four Seasons Hotel. The place is decorated in crystals and fine china and linen draped tables. It looks like something more for a wedding than my birthday but that’s my mother for you. Nothing but the best.

“What does?” I whisper. I tend to whisper around her.

“Speak up,” she snaps. “I hate when you mumble.” With a sigh, she pushes a piece of her bottle-blonde hair behind her ear.

“What only makes sense?” I repeat louder.

“That you give a speech in my honor. I am your mother after all. I did birth you. I am the reason you are the young woman you are today.”

I’m sure she means that in a positive way but since I’m a little neurotic and shy because of her, I’m not sure it’s such a good thing that she raised me.

“But why do I have to give a speech?”

The hard look she gives me makes a shiver run down my spine. “Because I said so. And you will do as I say. Now.” Her hands touch my waist. “I hate how baggy this dress is on you. You’ve lost weight. It’s not flattering on you.”

Funny. She’s been telling me to starve myself my entire life and I’ve listened. I’m not scary skinny. No, of course not because that would draw too much attention to myself and my mother never wants me to actually draw attention to myself. She wants to be the center of everyone’s attention.

So, that means I have to eat just enough to stay slim but not enough to make me fat and not too little to make me look sick. It’s a precarious balance.

And for once it would be great to just eat a meal without worrying about what my mother would think.

“The dress fits,” I say. “It’s supposed to be a little loose. That’s the style.”

She scrunches her nose up. “Well. I don’t like this style. Before the party, we’re going back home so you can change.” She doesn’t even ask it. With my mother, you’re either on board or you’re not. There’s no in between. But with me, that means I’m always on board because she would not stand for anything less.

“And we’ll have to do something about your hair.” She touches my brown strands. I have naturally dark hair from my father – and her by extension – but my mother has always hated it. She’s been leaving out bottles of blonde hair dye for years now but I’ve never done it. I don’t think I would look good as a blonde. It’s my one defiance against my mother and I know it upsets her.

If it weren’t for my father, I’m sure she would have forced my head under the sink and made me into a blonde.

“I curled it myself,” I mumble, feeling my body draw in on itself.

“Mmm. It shows.” She drops her hand with a shudder. “I’ll have to fix it myself. Now, let’s get home so you can change.”

No discussion. Just do.

My family’s brownstone is in the heart of New York City.

Seeing as my father, Ivan Romanov, is one of the wealthiest Bratva men around, it’s not surprising.

“Pumpkin,” he says once I enter the house. In a sweater vest and glasses, he looks more like an accountant than a member of the Russian mafia. “What are you doing home? Shouldn’t you be at your party? I was just leaving to go over there.”

“There’s a few things we have to change first,” my mother mutters, walking up the stairs without even looking at my father.

“Ah.” He nods his understanding. Of course he understands. He knows how my mother can be and yet he never stops her. It’s the one strain on our relationship.

But since I can’t change him, I’ve learned to accept my father for who he is. He’s a lot kinder than my mother, so for that reason alone, I’m attached to him.

“I like my dress,” I tell him.

“It does look beautiful on you but your mother knows best. Besides, you should look your best. Viktor Smirnov will be at your party and you want to make a good impression.”

Viktor Smirnov. A reclusive, intimidating Bratva man.

He was supposed to marry Nadia Belov, another Bratva daughter, until she was kidnapped by a Mafia man, Dante Moretti. They’re now married as a way to keep the peace between the Bratva and the Mafia.

But that meant Viktor didn’t have anyone to marry so Erik Koslov – one of the most powerful Bratva men in the entire city – gave me to him with my father’s permission.

Viktor and I are to be married within a year or two. We don’t really talk. I’ve met him once and he was so cold that I felt like I was going to break in half. I don’t want to marry him but if it means I get to leave my mother one day, then I’ll take it.

“He scares me,” I admit.

My father sighs and pulls me into a hug. “I know. But Viktor is an honorable, good man. He just has pride. As long as his pride is not wounded, there won’t be any problems. I trust that he’ll take good care of you one day. But for now, you don’t need to worry about that. Just focus on your birthday party today. Have some fun.”

Have fun . Easier said than done when I’m going to have to put up with my mother for the entire evening.

“Much better,” she says, pinching my waist. I gasp and try to move away from her but my mother tightens her hold. “This dress actually shows off your body. You’ve done a good job with it. You should want to show it off.”

The dress in question is not really me. For one thing: it’s a stark, deep red. I tend to prefer pastels as I think I look better in them but my mother has always hated that about me. She thinks bold, dark colors are the way to go.

“Now, your hair.” She grabs my hair so tight, I almost lose my balance. With quick work of her fingers, she pulls my hair into an updo that is too rigid to be comfortable. It’s already giving me a headache.

“Perfect,” she says, stepping back and eyeing me over. “Now you at least look presentable.”

I thought I looked presentable before but there’s no use in telling my mother that. She always chooses to ignore anything I say that she doesn’t like.

My mother and father are quiet on the drive back to the hotel for my party. I’m squished between them in the backseat as our driver, Samuel, steers the car through busy New York traffic.

At this rate, I’m going to be late for my own party. Of course, my mother thinks that’s fashionable. I just think it’s rude.

When we finally arrive, a lot of my guests have shown up. The room is packed with people. The band my mother hired announces me when I walk in and everyone turns to look at me. Instantly, I want to hide away. I hate this sort of attention.

But my mother holds my shoulders and walks me forward, plastering a large smile on her face.

Everyone claps for me politely as it’s done in the Bratva. My eyes spot my best friend, Inessa, looking ethereal in a silver dress with her blonde hair around her shoulders. She looks more like an Elvin princess than a human.

“I’m going to talk to Inessa.”

My mother’s lips turn into a line but she nods anyway. That’s the one good thing she’s always given me: the chance to talk with my best friend. I think the only reason she allows it is because Inessa is a good Bratva girl like I am.

Her father, Gleb Petrov, is a lesser known Bratva man. Lower in ranks than many of the others in this room but because he’s part of the Bratva, that makes them accepted in our circles.

She stands next to her father, looking miserable. “Elena. Hi.”

“Hi.” My eyes land on Gleb. He’s a paranoid looking man. Skinnier than a lot of the other men in this room. Slicked back hair. Loose tie. He looks more like a sleazy car salesman than a Bratva man. “Hello, Mr. Petrov.”

“Is this place secure?” he asks. “Because it doesn’t feel secure.”

I don’t know how to answer that so I only shrug. “I’m not sure. I think it’s secure.” I know my father would have hired a lot of security guards for the event.

Especially because Nadia Moretti is here with her husband, Dante.

Dante tried to kill my father after my father tried to kill him a year ago. But then Dante decided to spare my father’s life. Things have been uneasy between them since but there’s a tentative truce there.

I spy Nadia and Dante by a far wall, keeping to themselves. There’s a few other Mafia around but the majority of people here are Bratva. A lot of them don’t approve of Erik working with Dante but most don’t have a choice against the matter. Erik is the highest ranking Bratva man in the room, especially after Sergei Belov was killed a year ago by one of Dante’s men.

Speaking of Erik, he enters the room with his beautiful wife, Anya, on his arm. She’s visibly pregnant. It’s their first. I know they’ve been trying for the past few years to make it happen. With striking red hair and porcelain skin, she looks more like a doll.

But she’s anything but. Anya is a fierce woman who protected me when I was fourteen from a man who wanted to hurt me. Other than Inessa, she’s the only other person in this room I feel truly safe with.

Erik and Anya go over to Dante and Nadia. The two sisters hug each other while Erik and Dante eye each other warily. There’s peace but I feel it in my gut that it won’t last forever.

I turn back to Inessa. “Thanks for coming.”

“It’s your birthday. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Even the way she speaks sounds like wind chimes.

“We shouldn’t stay long,” Gleb mutters. “It doesn’t feel safe here. Let’s go, Inessa.”

“But the party just started,” she says. “I want to stay.”

“No. Let’s go. I don’t like it here.” He keeps looking over his shoulder like someone is going to attack him at any moment. It’s beginning to make me a little paranoid myself.

“But-,”

“Let’s go.” He grabs her arm and nudges her towards the door.

In an act of defiance, Inessa pulls away from him and gives me a hug. “My present is on top of the pile. I want to make sure you get it.”

I hug her back. “Thank you.” She’s been my friend since we were fifteen. Our fathers put us in the same all girl’s school, even though I know her father didn’t have the power to send her to private school. Rumor was that he worked nights cleaning the school to get Inessa in. Money is tight for them, unlike a lot of people in this room.

Gleb tugs Inessa away and I watch them leave the party. Down one friend. I feel even more alone now than I did when I first got here.

My pile of presents is so large, I’m worried it’s going to tower over and spill everywhere. Most of these presents are from people who don’t even know me, so I know that the majority of these presents are just customary. Nice, polite, inoffensive gifts. I’m sure there’s a lot of purses and books and jewelry under all this wrapping paper. They’re the type of gifts you give someone when you don’t know what to get them.

The thought makes me feel even more alone.

I find Inessa’s present, with horse wrapping paper on it. I confessed to her about my horse phase when I was twelve. Knowing she remembered that makes me smile as I open the gift.

Inside, it’s a small canvas and some paint supplies.

My mother hates it but I love to paint. She claims that it’s messy and not appropriate for a girl to do but my father indulges me. Not many people know this about me but Inessa does. Inessa cares.

I hide the canvas and paints under the present table to make sure it doesn’t get stolen or wrecked. There’s probably thousands of dollars’ worth of stuff in those presents but none of that matters to me. What matters is the little canvas and paints Inessa got me.

“Elena,” my mother’s shrill voice makes me gasp and turn around. Beside her is a tall, handsome man who’s intimidating to look at. “Viktor. I thought you two could have a chance to talk.” She leans in close to me. “A good impression.”

Viktor keeps his eyes on me as my mother whisks away. “Hello, Elena.”

“Hello.”

“Are you enjoying your birthday?”

“I am.” There’s no use in telling him that I’m miserable. That this party was the last thing I wanted. That if I had had my way, I would be at home with Inessa, enjoying a night with my friend, instead of having to put myself on display for all of these people.

“That’s good.” His eyes find Nadia and Dante across the room before he quickly looks away.

“Does it bother you that they’re here?”

“Nadia didn’t want to marry me. It is what it is. I’m past it.” Except, his voice doesn’t sound like he’s past it.

“You loved her?” The thought of marrying a man who’s in love with someone else tears at my heart.

“No. I never loved her. But she was promised to me and Dante stole her.” He runs his hand over his shirt. “I apologize. I shouldn’t be saying those things to you. This is your party. You should be enjoying it.”

Before I can respond, Dante comes walking right towards Viktor. Behind him are Nadia and Anya, who quickly follow.

“No hard feelings?” Dante asks, extending his hand to Viktor.

Viktor eyes Dante’s hand like it’s plague infested. “Don’t ask me to shake your hand.”

“Fair enough. But it has been a year now. Might want to get over it.”

“You kidnapped Nadia and made her fall in love with you. That’s not exactly something one just gets over.”

“Let’s not fight,” Anya says, stepping between the two.

“We’re not fighting,” Dante replies. “Were we fighting?”

“Not yet,” Viktor growls.

I shiver at his dark voice.

“We want peace,” Nadia says. “That’s why I married Dante. For peace. I am sorry, Viktor. I never meant to hurt you.”

“I know. But I’m just worried he’ll hurt you one day.” Viktor walks away before anyone else can get another word in.

Dante lets out a low whistle. The sight of him still makes me afraid. I remember the night he broke into my house and tried to kill my father. I’m grateful he changed his mind but I know what kind of man Dante Moretti is. I know how dangerous he can be.

He sets his dark eyes onto me. “Happy birthday, Elena.”

I take a step back and bump into the pile of presents. A couple of them fall to the floor.

“Let’s just leave her be,” Nadia says gently, giving me a kind smile. She was always nice to me when I was growing up. She’s the only reason I know I don’t have to fear Dante. She’s keeping him in line.

“That was intense,” Anya says when it’s just the two of us. “How are you hanging in there?”

“I’m good.”

“You don’t sound good. I know this party isn’t your style. Your mom’s idea?”

“Yes,” I admit. “I just have to be here for a few more hours and then I can leave.”

“At least you get a ton of presents. I remember my birthdays growing up. They were sad affairs. My father never liked inviting people over so it was usually just a sad vanilla cake while me and Nadia tried to stay clear of him.”

“How have you been? Since he…”

“Died? I don’t really miss him. Neither does Nadia. We’re both glad he’s out of our lives. Now it’s just a matter of making sure Erik and Dante can keep the peace between the Bratva and the Mafia. I don’t want to get plunged into another war.”

“That’s why I’ll marry Viktor one day. To help keep the peace.”

Her eyes soften. “Hey, I am sorry about that. Nadia got her dream man, which I’m happy for her, but it came at the cost of Viktor. And you.”

“I know I’m a consolation prize. I know he’s only marrying me so his pride isn’t hurt.”

“But that’s most Bratva men. I married Erik for political gain. Now, we’re in love and expecting our first baby.” She places her hands over her large stomach. “Anything is possible.”

“It will just be nice to get away from my mom,” I admit.

She chuckles. “I hear you. I was the same way with my father. But you have your father, who’s a nice man. Why don’t you go spend some time with him? I’m sure he’d appreciate it.”

“Thanks.”

Anya heads back over to Erik while I make my way to my father’s side. He’s deep in conversation with a few other men. My mother is busy talking to a waiter – more like berating and scolding said waiter.

“Hi, Pumpkin,” Dad says, sliding his arm around my shoulders. “Enjoying the party?”

“I guess.”

His eyes darken when he sees Dante across the room. “I still can’t believe he actually showed.”

“He’s here to make peace,” one of the other men says. He has stark, grey hair. “I think it’s good. I’m tired of always fighting with the Mafia.”

“I’m not,” a man with a gold tooth says. “I loved being at war with them. Was good for my business.”

My father’s arm tightens around me. “I’m just glad that my Elena is safe. Dante won’t try anything. He made assurances. His marriage to Erik’s sister-in-law guaranteed that.”

Everyone keeps talking about keeping me safe. But I don’t feel safe at all. I feel like something is coming for me and I’m not sure what.

The doors to the large ballroom open and two men stroll inside. One has black hair and a dark smirk on his lips, while the other has reddish brown hair and a stoic expression, but that doesn’t make him any less intimidating.

They look a lot alike, like they could be brothers.

Judging by Dante and Erik’s faces, they’re not happy these men are here. I inch closer to see what’s going on but my father’s arm around me doesn’t let me get far.

“Finn,” Dante says, looking at the black-haired one. “Aiden. You two need to leave.”

Finn settles back on his heels. “Why? Isn’t this a party? We work for you. Why can’t we be here?”

“Because you’re hitmen,” Erik says flatly. “You’re not Mafia. You’re not Bratva. You’re not part of the peace treaty which makes you dangerous. So you need to leave.”

“I don’t want to leave.” He looks at Aiden. “Do you want to leave?”

Aiden shrugs lazily. “Not really. But then, I don’t really care what we do.”

“Good.” Finn flashes a dark smile. “Me and my brother aren’t going to do anything. We just want to have some fun. What do you say? You two wanted to make peace. Me and my brother can be a part of that.”

Erik turns to Dante. “They’re your men. What do you want to do?”

It’s strange to see Erik defer the power to Dante but I guess that’s what it takes for peace.

Dante stares Finn down. “I worked hard to get to this point with Nadia and her family. Don’t fuck it up.”

Finn raises his hands in surrender. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Aiden, keep your brother in line.”

Aiden inclines his head. There’s a lazy handsomeness about him, like he doesn’t even have to try. He’s not as put together as the other men in this room. Aiden looks more like a stereotypical bad boy from any teen movie I watched growing up.

“It’s easier to just let them stay,” Dante explains. “And besides, we’re trying for peace, aren’t we? This is the way to do it.”

Erik sighs. “I guess. But I don’t like it. If you two fuck up, I won’t hesitate to kill you.”

“Not if we kill you first,” Finn says, grabbing a small crab cake from a passing waiter’s tray and popping it into his mouth.

Erik walks away without another word.

Finn sets his eyes onto me and starts heading in my direction when Dante steps in front of him.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“To see the man who tried to kill you. I seem to remember that it was at a party similar to this.”

“Don’t do anything stupid, Finn.”

Aiden stands back but his eyes find mine. I can’t look at him for long before I blush and avert my gaze. When I glance back at him, I find that he’s still looking at me. It’s not a dark look. It’s not a lustful look. It’s more… a curious one. Like he’s trying to figure me out.

“Hello, Ivan,” Finn says, getting past Dante.

My father puts himself between me and Finn. “Hello.”

“How have you been? Enjoying life since Dante spared it?”

“I won’t thank your boss for not killing me.”

“Maybe you should. Maybe you haven’t learned your lesson at all.”

“Finn,” Dante growls. “If you’re going to cause problems, then leave.”

“Don’t you want revenge? Ivan tried to kill you. Hell, he literally stabbed you. You’re ok with just letting him live?”

“If it means peace, then yes.”

Finn scoffs. “It’s just because you don’t want to upset your precious little wife. You’re whipped.”

“I am not whipped.”

Aiden sighs and pulls out a knife. “Enough with this. If you’re going to act, Finn, then fucking do it.”

Finn throws his head back and laughs right before he takes out a knife of his own and throws it right in my father’s direction.

I grab the back of my father’s jacket and haul him out of the way. The knife ends up clattering to the ground.

Everything is quiet for a moment… before all hell breaks loose.

Finn runs right for my father and punches him in the face, sending him sprawling to the floor.

“Run, Elena,” he gasps out before Finn punches him again.

I quickly back away. Dante and Erik are focused on Finn as they run at him and try to pull him off my father. No one has eyes on me. Everyone is too focused on the fight.

That leaves me exposed. I don’t realize it until it’s too late.

Someone grabs my arm. I gasp and look up to see that it’s Aiden.

“You’re coming with me,” he murmurs in a low voice. “And if you try to scream, my brother will kill your father.”

I clamp my lips closed. Aiden doesn’t let go of my arm as he walks us out of the ballroom and away from the party.

It takes me a moment too long to realize that I’m getting kidnapped.