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Chapter

One

DIMITRI

I fucked up.

Honestly, that’s pretty easy for me to do. Fucking up is my specialty. It only becomes a problem when the consequences come for me.

And right now, they’ve come for me.

“You need to marry my daughter,” Abram says, standing in the middle of my empty club with his arms crossed. He looks so out of place on the glitter-covered dancefloor. Abram is an old-school man. Balding at the top with some hair on the side. Spectacles that make him seem like he’s from the 1800s. And the old-fashioned belief that I need to marry his daughter because I fucked her.

Well, I also took her virginity, but it wasn’t anything to me.

It’s not my problem women flock to me. I just have a natural charm that makes me irresistible. Maybe it’s my smile or my dark hair or my general good looks. I’ve been called a pretty boy on multiple occasions. I don’t resent the moniker. It’s true. I’m a good looking man. It’s not arrogance when it’s reality.

But my looks mean women want to be with me. My power, too .

I’m a Bratva boss. There are multiple throughout the city of New York, and I just happen to be one of them. A lot of people know the name Dimitri Ivanov. I’ve made sure they know my fucking name.

Right now, though, my name, power, and good looks have gotten me into trouble.

See, I fucked Tatiana Sokolov, Abram’s daughter. I can’t help it that I found her hot, with her long blonde hair and little smirk. She was a girl looking for danger, and I was more than happy to oblige.

How was I supposed to know her father would be pissed that I took her virginity?

Granted, Abram is a traditional Bratva man. He believes that sex only comes after marriage and you only marry for political gain. The moment I fucked Tatiana, her worth went down.

I think that’s bogus, but what are you gonna do?

“I’m not going to marry anyone,” I respond, taking a sip of my scotch. The bar stool under me is a little wobbly. I’ll need James to take a look at it. My club needs to be perfect for anyone who visits. I pride myself on being a business owner.

Abram’s scowl deepens, his jowls quivering in anger. I can’t help but laugh, which only angers him more. “You defiled my daughter. You need to marry her.”

“Tatiana knew what she was getting into. It’s not my fault, Abram, that your daughter is a little slutty.”

He storms over to me. but I give him a look, daring him to try something. At the last moment, he backs off. The other two men he brought with him—Boris and Arthur—stand up straighter, looking nervous. Good. Anyone who comes into my club and threatens me should be nervous.

“Don’t speak about my daughter that way,” Abram hisses. “You need to do right by her. You need to marry her.”

“Um … sorry. No.” I tip the rest of my scotch back. It goes down smooth.

“Dimitri, you know our rules. Our customs. No man will want Tatiana now that she’s no longer a virgin.”

I snort. “She was barely a virgin when we fucked. I mean, sure, did I tear through that little piece of skin inside her? Sure. But she’d been with men before. There was no way she could have given me such a good blowjob otherwise.”

Abram’s face twists and turns into pure fury. It’s funny. He’s like a little round wind-up toy. “My Tatiana is the picture of innocence. Or she was until you took that innocence from her.”

I can’t help but laugh as I pour myself another drink. “I didn’t take anything. Tatiana came to me wanting a good fuck. I gave that to her. There’s no problem here.”

“You need to marry her, Dimitri.”

“Or what?” I lean back against the bar, giving Abram my best nonchalant look. “What are you going to do, little man?”

I can tell I’ve struck a nerve. Abram is short; there’s no denying it. The top of his head barely reaches my shoulders.

“I’m going to burn your beloved club down to the ground if you don’t marry her.”

I set my glass down and stand up, towering over him. “I’d like to see you try.”

Abram snaps his fingers. Both Boris and Arthur bring out lighters. They flick them open, and the flames dance menacingly around in the air.

I don’t doubt Abram is angry enough that he’ll do something stupid—like destroy my club.

But I don’t back down to pussies.

“I will not marry Tatiana, Abram,” I growl. “She was a good fuck, I’ll give her that, but nothing more. I’m not the marrying kind.”

“Think of all the power you could achieve if you married a woman of good stature. A good Bratva woman.”

“Like Tatiana?” I scoff. “Even you can’t bribe me with power.”

“But you want it. I know you do. You want to be the most powerful man in all of New York City. I can help you get there. Or …” He shrugs. “I can be your adversary, Dimitri. I can make your life a living hell. So”—he pats me on the arm like we’re good pals— “marry Tatiana. It’s the smartest move you can do. She’s beautiful. Obviously, you like her. What’s the problem? ”

“Like her? I can’t stand your daughter, Abram. Her voice is so fucking grating. Why do you think I had her blow me? Just to shut her up.”

Abram grabs my jacket and pulls me forward. “Marry my daughter, Dimitri. Or this entire place will go up in flames.”

Normally, I’d laugh in this fucker’s face and say “try it.” But … my club is my baby. It’s the one thing I’ve worked so hard to achieve.

I was born into the Bratva through my father. He had power before, and I took it after he left this world. But I needed to make a name for my own self, so that’s how my club came to be.

It isn’t just a club. It’s also a money laundering scheme. And it’s the place where I make deals to further grow my influence.

I can’t lose my club.

I eye the lighters in Boris and Arthur’s hands. All these fuckers have known me since I was a kid. “You would do this to me?” I ask. “To my father?”

Abram lets me go. “Your father would’ve done the right thing. He married your mother in an arranged marriage. He did it to gain power. He did it because he respected your mother. So, respect my Tatiana and marry her, Dimitri.”

I grimace. I can’t lose my club.

But I can’t marry Tatiana either.

Though Abram doesn’t need to know that. If I get married to a woman of my own choosing first, then I won’t have to marry Tatiana. Sure, Abram will be pissed. But by then, I can make sure my club is protected. Right now, it’s too vulnerable.

So, I decide to lie. I’m a fucking master at it.

I grip Abram’s shoulder and squeeze it tight enough that he flinches. Good. “Sure, Abram. I’ll get married.”

“Marry her ,” he emphasizes. “You’ll marry Tatiana.”

“I’ll get married,” I repeat. “Don’t you worry.” I nod at Boris and Arthur. “You boys can close your lighters. There doesn’t need to be carnage here today.”

They flick the lighters shut and put them back in their pockets .

I let Abram go. “Now, go home to your daughter. I’ll make this right.”

He audibly sighs. “Thank you, Dimitri. You’re doing the right thing. Tatiana will make a wonderful wife.”

“I’m sure she will.” For some other poor sucker who has to listen to her grating voice all day long.

I watch Abram and the other men leave.

Then I slump back against the bar. I never let people see me vulnerable. That’s just not how a Bratva boss works.

But now that I’m alone, I can’t stop how my hands shake slightly as I pour myself a drink.

I’ve gotten myself into quite the predicament. Now, I just have to figure out how to get out of it.

I can’t marry anyone. I love to fuck women. Women , plural. If I got married, I’d have to be faithful. I mean … I wouldn’t have to be, but then I’d be a pretty shitty man.

Granted, I’m already a pretty shitty man.

I just can’t stop thinking about my father and how much he loved my mother. The respect he gave her. He never would’ve cheated on her.

If I got married to avoid marrying Tatiana, it would have to be to the perfect woman.

But how do I find her? And does she even exist?

EVIE

The vomit in the carpet does not ruin my day. Not when I’m surrounded by books.

Little Jackson, a four-year-old who comes to the library often with his parents, just left behind a sizable vomit stain on the carpet. Cleaning it up would be a job for one of the volunteers—they tend to get stuck with more grunt work.

But I do the cleaning myself.

I’m not going to subject any of the teenaged volunteers for this job. It’s inhumane in my eyes. I’ve been working at the New York Public Library since I was sixteen years old, but I’ve been volunteering since I was fourteen. At twenty, I work part time to help pay my way through school. Once I finish my degree, I’ll be able to be a full-time librarian, and that’s the dream. The pay is terrible, but if I get to be around books all day, then nothing could be better.

Not even this vomit can bring me down.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Sally, one of the librarians, says as she walks by. “We have janitors. And volunteers.”

“I know. But I don’t want someone to have to walk by this. It won’t take me long to clean it up.”

“Fine. But tie your hair back at least. I don’t want to see you get any puke in it.”

I give her a kind smile as she walks away then pull my brown hair back into a bun. The librarians here have known me for a quarter of my life. We’re like family.

“God, that’s disgusting,” the familiar voice of my best friend says. Her high-heeled shoes are right in my face. “Who would do that?”

“A four-year-old,” I say, sitting back on my heels and wiping my forehead with the back of my arm.

Katya flashes me her mega-watt smile. “Of course. I can forgive it, then. But god knows that bums frequent this place. So, you never know.”

“You can’t call them bums,” I tell her. “Everyone is welcome here. Even people without money. The library is a free resource, after all.”

She rolls her eyes and plops down onto a seat in a private corner. The library has tons of little reading nooks everywhere. It makes everything cozier. I love it.

“So, when do you get off?” she asks.

“In an hour. But I have an essay to work on when I get back home.”

“Jeez, it’s never ending with you, isn’t it?”

“Well, you don’t work or go to school. Not all of us can be rich.”

“True. It pays to be me.”

Katya was born to be rich. With her long blonde hair and even longer legs and perfectly formed face, the universe just had to make her beautiful and wealthy. I’m not jealous, though. I learned a long time ago not to compare myself to anyone. Going to a private boarding school as a scholarship student taught me to love myself. If I didn’t learn that lesson, I would’ve been miserable at school. Fortunately, Katya took me under her wing, and we’ve been best friends ever since.

“Follow me.” I head to the restroom with my bucket and rag. Katya makes a disgusted face but comes along without complaint.

“So, why are you here?” I ask as I pour the soapy water down the toilet.

“Can’t I check in with my bestie?”

“Of course. You just rarely come to the library.”

“That’s because it’s boring,” she groans, dropping her head back dramatically. “I’m bored.”

“Then go do something. I’ll be off in an hour.” We leave the restroom. I find a cart full of books and start pushing it toward a stack. Everyone helps keep the library running. If you find something to do, do it. I place a book on the shelf after finding the right call number.

“You know I can’t just go do something. My brother won’t let me do anything fun.” She crosses her arms. “He’s such a hypocrite. He gets to go out every night to his stupid club while I have to remain back home like a good little girl.” She shudders. “I’m not a girl anymore.”

“You’re twenty,” I remind her. “He can’t legally control you.”

Her eyes darken. “In my world, he does.”

I stare at Katya with curiosity. I know she comes from a different culture than me. I always just assumed it was because her family is Russian, and they have different standards for women, but … I always wonder if there’s something else. She rarely talks about her life except to complain about her brother. The librarian in me wants to learn more, to really ask her why her brother is so controlling, but I know Katya. She won’t tell me unless she wants to. She’s a talker, but she’s not an open book.

“And what about you?” She nudges my arm. “It’s not like you’re going out, living a crazy life.”

“That’s because I prefer books to people.”

“Evie, you haven’t even kissed anyone yet. ”

My face flushes as I shush her. “Not so loud.”

“I’m just saying.”

“Oh, and you have? I know you always complain that you’re not allowed to date.”

“I’m not. My brother would kill any man who tried to touch me.”

I set another book on the shelf. “I’m afraid to ask if you mean that literally or if you’re just being dramatic.”

She grabs a book of the cart and waves it around. “Literally, Evie. I mean it literally.”

I still think she’s being dramatic. “Katya, you have your own agency. Live your life for yourself. That’s what I’m doing.”

“By keeping yourself locked up in books and not out in the real world?”

“I happen to love books. They’re my safe place.”

Katya’s eyes soften. “I know. But, Evie … it’s been years now.”

I turn away from her as tears threaten to spill out. “Doesn’t mean I don’t miss him every day.”

“I know. I lost my dad, too. But, Evie, he wouldn’t want you to stay cooped up in the library all day.”

“I’m not.” I face her again. “Half the time I’m at school. Or at home.”

“With Juno,” she mutters.

“Why do you say her name like that?”

“Because your stepmom is a bitch.”

I push the cart of books to another aisle. “Juno can be … a lot sometimes, but she was there for me after my dad died. That’s what matters. I can’t hate her for that.”

“But I know she expects you to come home right after work or school. She doesn’t let you live either. I think you should ignore her ass and go out more. With me.” She smiles again.

“I listen to my stepmom, and you listen to your brother. It’s not so different.”

“Mmm.” There’s a look in her eye that says she doesn’t agree with me, but she doesn’t voice it. “Well, anyway, I have to get back home soon. Dimitri only lets me come to the library because he doesn’t think any man could hurt me here. His words: ‘Only dweebs and dorks go to the library, and they’re not a threat to you.’” She rolls her eyes. “He’s such an ass.”

“Tell him that more than dweebs and dorks go to the library.”

“Tell him yourself. Dimitri doesn’t listen to me.”

“Seeing as I’ve never met him, I couldn’t exactly talk to him.”

Despite the fact that Katya and I met when we were fourteen at our private boarding school, I’ve never been to her house. I’ve never met her family. She’s met Juno. She met my dad before he passed.

But I’ve never seen her true, intimate life. I’ve asked her before why she never invites me over, and she always told me it was just easier that way. For my own protection. Of course, that prompted me to ask more questions, but she would always evade. Eventually, I dropped the subject.

Now, I know not to ask more questions. Katya has a home life she doesn’t want me to be a part of it. I try not to take it personally.

“Trust me, you don’t want to meet Dimitri. Knowing him, he’d try to get in your pants.”

“I’ve never let anyone in my pants, so I don’t think it would be a problem.”

“Trust me. You haven’t met my brother. He could make a nun turn against her faith to be with him. It’s disgusting.”

I laugh as I place the last book from the cart onto the shelf. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

She checks her phone and groans. “Ugh, I have to head back. Please, Evie. Just tell me you’ll start to live more so I can live vicariously through you.”

“I’ll do that.”

But we both know I won’t.

DIMITRI

The club is being transformed from a nightclub into an elegant ballroom.

Not that I really care, but I figure if I’m going to get a woman to marry, I might as well host a party to meet eligible women, and I assume that women want nice things like elegant ballrooms. I don’t really know, though. I’ve never cared to ask before.

There is someone who would know. My sister.

“Katya,” I say, finding her in the living room, scrolling on her phone.

“What?” she asks, not even looking away from it.

I rip it out of her hands.

“Hey!” She sits up trying to snatch it back, but I hold it out of her reach.

“I have to ask you a question. Do women like balls?”

She blinks then snorts. “Are you really asking me that?”

I sigh. “I don’t mean testicles. I wouldn’t talk about shit like that with you. I mean balls as in ballrooms, gowns, fancy music. Shit like that.”

“Oh.” She slinks back into her seat. “Yeah, sure.” She perks up. “Wait. Are you throwing a themed party? Can I come?”

“No.”

She pouts. “Why not?”

“Because I promised our father I would take care of you, and that means keeping you here where I know you can’t get into trouble.”

“I went out today. I could’ve gone anywhere.”

“Oh, I know. But I have a tracker on your phone and car and in your purse.” Her eyes slowly widen. “And if you think about removing any of those, I’ll just replace them. So, you’re not going anywhere I won’t know about. And why the fuck do you spend so much time at the library anyway? You hate reading.”

“No reason.”

I look at her closely, but she keeps her eyes wide and innocent. It’s something she learned to do with our father. Act like an angel and he would treat her like one. But I know there’s a little bit of the devil inside Katya. There’s a whole lot of devil inside me.

On the surface, we don’t look alike. She’s blonde hair and fair whereas I’m dark haired and tan. We share the same father but different mothers .

That doesn’t change the fact that we’re family. I protect my family even if it means controlling Katya so she doesn’t go out and do something stupid.

That’s my job.

“Fine,” I grumble, tossing her phone back at her. “Just don’t get into trouble.”

“Why are you throwing a party? I don’t think you’ve ever thrown a party in your entire life.”

I open my mouth but am interrupted by the doorbell. Our housekeeper, Lizzie, answers it, and then I hear the voice that haunts my nightmares.

“Oh, Dimitri!”

It’s Tatiana.

I push down my growl as Lizzie leads Tatiana into the living room then leaves because Tatiana isn’t her problem. She’s mine.

“What are you doing here?” I demand.

“I’m here to start the wedding planning.”

“The WHAT?” Katya exclaims, jumping to her feet, which is impressive in her stiletto heels. Why she insists on wearing them around the house, I’ll never know.

Tatiana gives Katya a smug smile. “The wedding. Your brother and I are getting married.”

I can feel Katya boring a hole into my head, but I keep my eyes on Tatiana. “Sure. We’ll start the wedding planning, but I’m a little busy right now. So, why don’t you head back home, get started, and we’ll discuss it later.”

She stomps her foot like a fucking child. “But I’m here now.”

“Look, Tatiana, we fucked. Once. That doesn’t give you the right to come into my home and act like this.” I’m one to talk. I’m always going into other people’s houses uninvited and making myself at home. Just ask my business partner, Nikolai.

Katya watches this exchange like it’s a soap opera. and she can’t take her eyes away.

“But—” Tatiana starts to whine, but I grab her shoulders and gently nudge her to the door .

“As I said, I have work to do. And I trust your decisions.”

“You do?”

“Yes. Plan the wedding however you want.”

“Yay!” She throws her arms around me and pecks my cheek. I grimace and push her off me. Fortunately, she doesn’t notice as she bounces out the front door.

I turn to Katya, who doesn’t say anything. That’s a first for her. “Say it.”

“You’re getting married!?”

“No.”

“Well, she”—Katya nods at the door— “seems to think so.”

“Ok. Her father, Abram, is forcing me to marry her. I took her virginity.”

“Oh, god, Dimitri. Tatiana is a Bratva daughter. You don’t do that to Bratva daughters. I should know. That’s why you refuse to let me date.”

“I know. But I slept with her anyway. I’m not going to marry her, though. That’s why I’m throwing this party. It’s an eligible bachelorette party to find a different woman to marry.”

“You’re going to get out of this by marrying someone else? Even though you hate the idea of marriage.”

“I figure this is the best way out of a bad situation. If I’m married to someone else, then Abram can’t force me to marry Tatiana.”

She flops onto the couch and begins to laugh. I give Katya a lot of leeway because she’s my sister, but if she were one of my men, I’d set her straight. But because she’s my sister, I grit my teeth and wait for her to finish laughing.

“Ok,” she says, clutching her stomach. “You’re going to marry someone else, someone you don’t even love or know, just to get out of marrying Tatiana?”

“Yes.”

“But that’ll just make Abram angrier. I’ve met him before. He has a total stick up his ass.”

“But by then, Abram won’t be able to do anything. I’ll already be married. He would make himself and Tatiana look more like a fool if he tried something.”

She stares at her nails. “If you say so, Dimitri. If you say so.”

“I’m going to find a wife, Katya. It just won’t be Tatiana.”

“Thank god for that. Her voice is so annoying.”

“Anything else you want to comment on?” I’ve learned to let Katya speak her mind before walking away. It’s the best way to shut her up.

“Nope, I’m good. I just think you’re going to get yourself killed by Abram, but what do I know? I’m just a girl.”

I grumble under my breath as I walk away.

EVIE

Juno is lying on the couch, in the darkness, when I return home from the library. “I have such a headache,” she says in greeting, “so you’ll have to make the dinner tonight.”

“Yes, Juno.” More and more lately, she’s been having headaches, and I’ve been having to cook. It’s a good life skill to have, but I have a ton of writing to do tonight. If Juno would just be ok with a simple, quick meal, then no problem, but she demands a three course elaborate meal every night that takes me hours.

I think back to Katya’s words. How I should live my life more for myself. How I should get out more. I do truly love being alone with my books, but … I can’t help but wonder what my life would be like if it had a little more fullness to it.

If it wasn’t just Juno and me.

“Can you make dinner any faster?” she asks, coming into the kitchen and grabbing a chocolate bar to snack on. “I’m starving.”

“You’re eating.”

“Chocolate isn’t a food, Evelyn.” She takes an even larger bite. For someone trying to watch her figure, she sure does eat a lot of chocolate. But I would never tell Juno this. The last time I made her angry, she guilt tripped me into giving her my nice, queen-sized mattress. She gave me a hard, lumpy old mattress to use instead.

Rationally, I know I can leave Juno behind, but this is my father’s house. It’s small and not worth a lot, but it’s his house. I can’t leave it. And Juno refuses to leave.

So, it’s her and me, and if I want to stay here, I need to make Juno happy so she becomes slightly more bearable.

I cut up tofu and put it into a pot to simmer.

Juno makes a face. “Tofu? Again? Can’t we have steak?”

“Steak is more expensive. Besides, tofu is better for us and the environment.”

“I don’t care about the environment, Evelyn. I just want a good meal.”

“Then make it yourself,” I mutter. The moment I do it, I regret it.

Juno stands right beside me, her hot breath smelling of chocolate. “I could kick you out of this house, Evelyn. Your father left it to me, remember?” She runs her hand down my slightly wavy hair. “You have such beautiful hair. It would be a shame to lose it during the night.”

I gulp and pull away from her. Juno knows how much my hair means to me. I look exactly like my mother. I never knew her since she died in a car accident when I was a young girl, but from her pictures, I know we could pass as twins. That means something to me. Dad always spoke about Mom so fondly, and I want to honor his memory.

The memories I have of him and his stories of my mom are all I have left.

“Sorry, Juno. I’ll try to make dinner faster. And I’ll try to buy steak next time.”

“Great. You do that.” She heads back into the living room and turns on the TV. I can hear the news from here.

“Another murder,” the news reporter says, “of a young woman occurred today. Her body was discovered in Central Park. The murder of Sarah Johnson is the fourth murder of a twenty-year-old woman in the past few months. She matches the description of the other victims. Brown hair. White. Young. Here’s Police Chief Williams to say more.”

“We think it’s a serial killer,” the police chief comes right out and says it. “The pattern fits. We’re asking any woman who fits the image of the other victims to be mindful. Be careful. And to the killer, we’re going to find you, and we’re going to bring you down. ”

“Another murder,” Juno says. “Such a shame. The killer could come after me!”

I roll my eyes. Juno is too old to match the victims. Whereas I … I fit the victim profile to a tee.

I stir the tofu in the broth, thinking about what I’m going to do. I guess I need to be extra vigilant and extra careful.

And then I get a text from Katya.

My brother is throwing some stupid party at his club. What to join me in crashing it? It could be fun!!!

The last thing I need to do is go to some club. I need to stay here, where I’m safe.

My fingers hover over the keypad on my phone, ready to tell Katya no, that I’m staying in for the night.

Then Juno speaks. “Evelyn, if you don’t bring me dinner soon, I’ll grab the scissors. I wasn’t joking about your hair.”

I gulp. I can’t lose my hair. I can’t risk Juno kicking me out of the house.

But I can’t stay here another minute.

Katya is right. I need to experience more of life. I can’t live in fear of some killer out there. Besides, Katya will be with me. I won’t be alone.

I text her back. Where and when?