Page 6

Nikolai slaps me on the back as I’m watching our families arrive. I flinch, pulled from my thoughts.

“Why are we doing this again?” he asks, eyeing his wife Anoushka as she greets her brother Boris and sister-in-law Robin with enthusiasm.

“Where are the others?” Anoushka inquires, glancing around.

“Behind us,” Robin replies. “They were running a little late.”

Anoushka nods and ushers them in, offering drinks. Nikolai taps me on the forehead.

“What the—?” I grumble, turning to him.

“You still haven’t answered my question,” he says. “Why are we doing this here, at my house?”

“Because I have some news,” I reply with a straight face. “And it’s easier to escape your threshold than my own with guests around.”

“And the Zolotovs were needed for this news?” Nikolai presses.

I nod, but just as he’s about to pry further, I spot our youngest siblings walking in, arm-in-arm. “Oh, look! Natalia and Artyom. It’s been ages.”

I deftly avoid Nikolai’s inquisition and greet them, pretending to be just as confused about the sudden gathering. Soon, the Pakhan arrives with his younger brothers, their wives, and sister. The room falls silent for a moment before Boris and Anoushka embrace Ivan, Sergei, Mikhail, and their wives.

“So,” Sergei bellows through the crowd. “Who killed who, and where should we hide the bodies?”

Natalia bursts out laughing, and the tension eases. I say my hellos.

Despite my reservations about the Zolotovs, I respect their Pakhan, Ivan Zolotov. He’s built the most powerful Bratva empire in the U.S. simply through sheer force of will.

As the last guests finish ordering drinks, the air is electric with tension. Everyone’s eyes dart around, trying to figure out why they’ve been summoned, though they all pretend to be engaged in small talk.

This is neutral ground—home to Nikolai Orlov and Anoushka Zolotov. Given their union, we’re supposed to be friends here.

I’m itching to relieve the unspoken curiosity of the room, only except she’s not here yet—the woman of the hour. I impatiently tap my foot, checking my watch over and over again.

Where the hell is she? She hasn’t chickened out, I pray. Not to mention, it feels like it’s been forever since I’ve seen her. Dare I admit—I might miss her?

Just then, the last of our party arrives. Lara enters on the heels of her brothers, their hulking forms dwarfing her petite frame. She looks petrified, doe eyes round with fear. But still so beautiful, the way her inky hair falls in soft waves over her bare shoulders. I allow myself a moment to admire her, drinking in the sight like a man dying of thirst.

When her eyes meet mine, the world around us fades away.

Pippa tries to speak to Lara, but Lara remains transfixed on me. I see the confusion on Pippa’s face. One wrong move could spark suspicion. It’s better if I handle this.

Everyone is here, I think, my heart racing. It’s now or never. I stride across the room, ignoring attempts at conversation and questioning glances, focused solely on reaching Lara.

“Dima,” her oldest brother Abram says. I nod but keep walking until I’m in front of Lara. She gazes up at me, fear evident, her eyes darting between mine and her brothers behind me. I sense the growing agitation from them.

“What’s going on?” Denis comments, his tone sharp.

Despite her initial fear, something shifts in Lara’s demeanor. She stands more confidently now, her eyes warm as they lock with mine.

“May I?” I ask quietly, extending my hand. She hesitates, then places her trembling hand in mine. The contact is electrifying. I pull her close, and we turn to face the crowd.

A hush falls over the room.

Then?

The room erupts in disbelief—gasps, shocked whispers, and outraged exclamations.

“What the hell are you playing at?” Abram demands, stepping forward with fury. “Let go of my sister!”

“Abram, please,” Lara whispers, but he’s deaf to her plea.

Her brothers glare at me with rage, but I focus only on Lara, squeezing her hand for reassurance.

I clear my throat and address the room, my voice steady. “Attention, everyone! Lara and I have an announcement to make.”

Abram’s face is inches from mine as he demands, “What is the meaning of this?”

I step back, raising our joined hands. “Lara and I were married a month ago.”

“Dima!” Nikolai gasps while Anoushka pales in the face. Ivan and Boris carefully glance over at each other, the Zolotov cousins assessing if they might need to step in.

The admission hits Abram like a physical blow. He staggers back, bracing himself against the antique table that groans under his weight. Lara’s brothers echo his look of disbelief, practically snarling as they close in on me, their faces contorted with fury.

“How could you do this?” my sister Sofia steps forward in anger, her blonde hair lashing across her chair as she shakes her head in accusation.

"Without telling anyone? Without our consent?" Lara's brother Denis seethes.

I brace myself as the storm breaks. On the one hand, Lara’s brothers stand passing accusations. On the other, my younger siblings fight back. Ivan, Boris, and Nikolai remain neutral, trying to appease the tension.

Voices overlap into an incoherent din.

“I’m going to kill you!” Denis shouts, lunging at me, but his cousin Lev steps in to restrain him. “Let go of me!” Denis demands, trying to push Lev aside.

“You took advantage of her!” Mark accuses. “She’s innocent and naive, and you’re ruining her life!”

“Watch yourself, Mark,” my brother Nikolai warns, stepping beside me. “Dima wouldn’t act without a reason.”

“Like hell, he wouldn’t!” Mark screams, hurling his scotch at the wall. My own relatives return fire, everyone shouting and gesturing wildly.

Amid the turmoil, Lara grips my hand so tightly it hurts. I see the fear in her eyes. This situation is spiraling out of control.

I catch Nikolai’s eye and subtly nod toward the door. As the eldest Orlov sibling, his authority carries weight. Nikolai moves to intercept Abram, who is pacing angrily but happens to be the only one who can bring his brothers under control.

"That's enough," Nikolai rumbles, placing a hand on Abram's shoulder. Abram tries to shake him off, but Nikolai clamps down. "We'll get nowhere carrying on like children."

Nikolai's words, although harsh, have a meaningful effect on the room. Ivan, Lara’s cousin and head of the Zolotov empire, takes this moment to continue with the appeasement.

“My brother-in-law is right.” He comes and joins Nikolai. “The step has already been taken. Now that the initial shock has passed, let’s settle down and have a proper discussion. Dima and Lara have something to say, and we must hear it.”

“That would be wise,” Boris adds.

Lara’s brothers and my younger siblings, though still angry, stand down. I notice Nikolai and Anoushka look relieved that war hasn’t yet broken out in their household.

“How? Explain yourself,” Abram begins, falling back into a chair. Anoushka hands him a scotch, which he takes with a grateful nod.

I feel Lara trembling beside me, and a protective instinct surges through me. I squeeze her hand reassuringly, offering what little comfort I can amidst the chaos. I clear my throat. "Lara and I have been secretly seeing each other for a few months. We realized we wanted to be together, so we decided to get married. I know it was a drastic decision, but I couldn't bear the thought of losing her."

A murmur ripples through the crowd as they absorb the news. Nikolai and Anoushka exchange a glance, their faces tense. "You realize what you've done, Dima," Sofia says coldly. “You’ve gone and chosen a girl who could be of great threat to our family.”

“Sofia,” Nikolai warns. “Stand back. Lest you forget that my wife is a Zolotov, too.” His face glowers.

Sofia’s eyes flicker to Anoushka and then back at our oldest brother. “Anoushka is not Lara,” she hisses. “This girl Dima’s gone and brought into our folds has just come to America. We know nothing about her.”

“And we know nothing about your brother,” Lara’s second oldest brother Vladimir bellows back.

Sofia and Vladimir stare at each other like two cats on the hunt, neither backing down.

"Enough!" Nikolai's booming voice cuts through their anger. He steps between them, his gaze stern and commanding. "This is not the time or place for this, given how our families are now united."

"Your brother has disrespected our family," another of Lara's brothers, Denis, growls, his eyes never leaving mine. "We won't stand for it."

“And we won’t stand for it either,” Fedor growls. “For all we know, she seduced him!”

"Fedor!" I say sharply, angry at my brother for how he’s reduced Lara to a seductress when she’s anything but. Lara looks up at me with surprise, and it pains me to see she didn’t expect me to defend her.

And here I thought we’d come to know each other. "I understand that you're upset, but we made this decision together. Lara is my wife now, and I will do everything in my power to protect her and make her happy. That means you all need to stop attacking our decision."

"Protect her?" Abram scoffs. "From what? Her own family?"

"From anyone who threatens her happiness," I reply, tightening my grip on Lara's hand. She seems so small and fragile amidst the storm of emotions swirling around us. "Including her family, if necessary."

"Enough!" Nikolai repeats more forcefully, glaring at both families. "Dima and Lara are adults, and they've made their decision. Whether we agree with it or not, we must respect it."

"Fine," Abram spits, narrowing his eyes at me. "But don't expect us to just accept this quietly. I have questions."

"Nor should you," I tell him, meeting his gaze unflinchingly. "But know that I love your sister.” Beside me, Lara gasps, and I feel her hand freeze in mine. “And I will do everything in my power to be the husband she deserves. Anything you wish to know, you need only ask.”

“Why didn’t you come to us earlier?” Abram asks.

“We didn't want to cause any trouble or upset anyone until we were certain about our feelings," I clarify.

“Where did you meet?” Mark narrows his eyes at us.

“Often at night,” I say. “I’d pick her up outside your apartment, and we’d head out to town.”

A murmur of shock ripples through the room, followed by hushed whispers. They seem intrigued by how we’ve been fooling them all this while.

Lara nods, playing along. "Dima and I…we're in love. Truly. When you see us together, you'll understand."

Her brothers scoff in disbelief, but I focus on her cousin Boris. He's always been a romantic and is one of the few Bratva heads to have married for love, even defying a previously arranged marriage contract for Robin.

"What was it?" Boris asks gently. "What made you fall for our little Lara?"

I glance at Lara, my heart swelling with affection as I remember the moment I truly realized how much she meant to me. "It was during that first dinner we all had when the Zolotovs landed from Russia, remember? There was an ice sculpture on display at Ivan’s, carved into the shape of a swan. I watched as Lara's eyes lit up with childlike wonder when she saw it. She was so captivated, so full of joy, her neck craned up to admire that piece for a long time indeed…I couldn't help but fall in love with her right then and there. It’s a rare trait to find beauty and wonder in perfectly ordinary things."

The room goes quiet, everyone taken aback by the sincerity in my words. Even Lara seems surprised by my admission, her cheeks flushing a soft shade of pink.

"An ice sculpture?" Abram scoffs, clearly unimpressed. "That's all it took?"

I caress Lara's cheek, and her eyes flutter over her pink cheeks. "She makes me feel young again. Makes me believe in second chances," I whisper. She parts her lips, eyes widening from this admission.

But the moment is broken when Abram sneers. His response is a slap across the face, his disdain palpable. His eyes flick between Lara and me, sizing us up, looking for any sign of weakness. The atmosphere in the room thickens, the divide between our families growing deeper by the second.

"Is that so?" Abram challenges, crossing his arms over his chest. "A little bit of childlike wonder, and suddenly you're head over heels?"

"She’s your sister," I say possessively, suddenly angry that Abram even challenges why I’d love her. “By now, you must know how wonderful she is. She’s a woman of many virtues, not least of which is her beauty and kind heart. She’s beyond reproach, and our love is not up for debate. Any man would be lucky to have her.”

Whispers run through the gathered family members like wildfire, their faces a mix of shock and confusion at how strongly I defend her.

Before another word can be spoken, I make a decision—one that will change everything and set our boundaries clear.

"Listen," I announce, my voice steely and resolute. "In order to avoid further conflict within our families, Lara and I have decided to live together, but away from the family home for the time being, in an independent place."

Murmurs of surprise greet my announcement. Lara stares at me, stunned.

"Just until tensions ease," I add, holding her gaze, trying to assess how she might feel in this moment.

Lara looks hurt and confused and takes a step back, her hand slipping out of mine. I panic, aware that everyone is watching us. They have to believe we’re truly in love.

Before she can show that there might be a wedge between us, I slide my hand around her waist and turn to face the room.

“You all have a lot to process, and it might be easier if we’re not here,” I inform them. “I’ll let you know where we’ll be if you need us.”

Abram stands in protest as I gently lead Lara out of the room, but Nikolai jumps in, stopping him to welcome him into the family.

***

When we're alone in the car, Lara turns to me, eyes shimmering with tears.

"Why didn't you discuss this with me first?" Her voice wavers.

I sigh, hating that I've hurt her. "There wasn't time. I had to make a decision in the moment to protect you. I didn’t think your brothers would be that angry."

"But I don't need your protection," she protests.

I cup her delicate face in my hands. "You do, Sweetheart. Our families are on the brink of war. If we don’t stay together now, I fear what might happen. We need them to believe in this act, don’t we? Would they believe we’re madly in love, defied them all to get married, only to live separately?"

A lone tear escapes down her cheek. I brush it away with my thumb. She nods reluctantly. I know she understands, though it pains her.

But I had no other choice. She belongs by my side.