Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 76121 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76121 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Loosen up.
Relax.
I do loosen up, and I’m not always serious, but when I’m on the cusp of making a monumental decision that will not only affect my life but the good of my brotherhood, I don’t fucking loosen up.
Stefan claps me on the back. “Another hour, and she’ll be yours.”
I’ve treated Nicolai and Stefan well, and in turn, they’ve become my most trusted allies. My closest friends and confidantes.
“Now while the plane lands and our car prepares to bring your future wife to our compound, let’s meet Nicolai and Marissa, shall we?”
“Yes,” I say. “I’m ready.”
“Let’s go then,” Stefan says. He sighs as he opens the door to his office. “You know, many people scorn the thought of an arranged married. But in many ways, it removes so many of the complications of relationships.”
“Right,” I tell him dryly. It also introduces a whole host of further complications. “Easy for a man who isn’t going through with this to say.”
“I’m serious,” he says. “With the blessing of her family, you don’t have to worry about them interfering. She’s had no previous lover, so there will be no jealousy or baggage. And she’s young, still what one might say, in her formative years.”
I grunt but don’t respond. She’s twenty-one years old and has never gone to college. I wonder if her brother is one of the old-fashioned sorts who doesn’t believe in higher education for women.
“You don’t have to worry about seducing her, or having her fall in love with you,” he continues.
At that, I grow serious. Though her duty to me will trounce any romantic notion of love, I can’t help but wonder if feelings between us will grow. I’ve seen arranged marriages in which both became devoted to one another and some that merely fulfilled a duty, though I’ll admit I don’t much care about her feelings toward me as much as I do her obedience and loyalty.
We step outside and head to a little walkway that takes us to a separate apartment. Almost like a series of in-law apartments, the Atlanta Bratva’s quarters are unique from others I’ve visited. Small, private residences all lie within a gated community, though the main estate, large and sprawling, is where most of the men conduct their business.
Why the hell did I let Nicolai talk me into this?
“What if she’s hideous?”
He looks at me curiously. “I thought you looked at her before you agreed to this?”
I shake my head. “It was an old picture, taken years ago,” I tell him.
“And she was beautiful then?”
“She looked it.”
Stefan shrugs. “It’s unlikely she’s grown less attractive.”
“It isn’t unlikely. It’s really fucking likely. And what if she’s a nag?”
He quirks a brow at me. “You’ll have to teach her not to be.”
“And if she’s willful and defiant?”
Stefan’s eyes twinkle, and a corner of his lips quirks up.
“Do you mean to tell me that you, pakhan of one of the most powerful brotherhoods in all of America, don’t know how to handle a spoiled little girl?”
I can’t help but smile at that. “I think I can handle it.”
He nods. “You can, and you will.”
I’m not really worried, but somehow feel that asking Stefan these questions is a sort of rite of passage, like seeking the advice of a father before taking vows. It helps to voice my fears and hear his calm, steady response. And I like Stefan. He has a paternal air about him others don’t. My own father would have sneered at me and decked me for asking anything at all, for committing the unforgivable crime of displaying weakness.
When we arrive at Nicolai and Marissa’s door, we pause at the sound of raised voices behind it. Stefan looks at me hesitantly before he knocks, and the voices cease. A minute later, Nicolai comes to the door, his face flushed and blue eyes sparking.
“Welcome,” he says tightly, gesturing for us to come in. Marissa stands inside the doorway to their kitchen wearing a little black dress, her arms crossed on her chest, glaring. She’s heavy with child, one of the youngest women married into the brotherhood, but she holds herself erect and gives me a look that would rival the ferocity of a much older woman.
“Marissa,” I say in greeting, as if she’s just welcomed me in politely and offered me a cup of tea.
“Tomas,” she says through gritted teeth.
“My wife and I have a difference of opinion when it comes to witnessing your marriage,” Nicolai explains curtly, shutting the door behind him.
“It isn’t right,” Marissa says, ignoring the fierce look Nicolai shoots at her.
I point silently to my chest, asking him if I can interfere. I wouldn’t normally butt in at all, but Marissa and I are friends. Nicolai leans against the arm of a sofa in the middle of the living room and nods, giving me permission to speak to her.