Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 78627 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78627 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
“Sorry,” I say as I set the bowl on the table. I prepare the tray with baking cups and pour some batter into each one.
When I place the tray in the oven, Mrs. Aslanhov asks, “What had you so deep in your thoughts?”
If I’m honest and tell her about Armani, it will get me in trouble because, as a woman, I’m not allowed to choose my own husband, and it’s expected of me to marry to strengthen business ties for the bratva.
Deciding to play it safe, I answer, “I was thinking about Misha and Aurora. I hope they’ll be happy together.”
Mrs. Aslanhov lets out a deep sigh. “They have no choice but to make it work.”
It’s risky asking the question, but I can’t keep it from falling over my lips. “Were you happy when you married Mr. Aslanhov?”
She prepares herself a cup of tea, and only when she’s sitting at the kitchen table does she answer, “No. I was terrified of him.” She shrugs before taking a sip of her tea. “But I grew accustomed to the way things are. Once a marriage is arranged for you, you’ll do the same. Just be a perfect wife, and there won’t be any problems.”
Mrs. Aslanhov has gone to great lengths to teach me how to cook and bake. It’s one of the ways we bonded. I know everything that’s needed to be a good wife.
Her eyes soften on me with something like pity in them. “And if he sleeps with other women, take it as a win. At least it will keep him out of your bed.”
Jesus.
My mouth drops open, but knowing better, I say nothing in response and start to clean the countertops.
My hands freeze when she adds, “And try not to anger him. The men in the bratva live stressful lives. When they come home, they want peace and quiet.”
In other words, a wife should be seen and not heard, just do her tasks and not cause any trouble.
“Tiana, bring tea for two to my office,” Mr. Aslanhov suddenly says from the doorway. “And add some of the medovik you baked.”
“Yes, Papa,” I answer obediently.
I didn’t even know he was home and hope he didn’t overhear any part of the conversation I had with Mrs. Aslanhov.
Feeling nervous, I quickly prepare a tray with the tea and slices of honey cake I baked this afternoon.
Mrs. Aslanhov gives me an encouraging smile as I carry the tray out of the kitchen, and with every step I take toward the other side of the house, the tension in my stomach grows.
I don’t interact much with Mr. Aslanhov, because he’s always busy with work. The rare instances we talk, it always feels formal and awkward.
When I reach the study, I let myself into the room. I hardly glance at the man sitting across from Mr. Aslanhov and quickly set the tray down on the coffee table.
“Take a seat, Tiana,” Mr. Aslanhov orders.
What?
The shock of being asked to stay for their meeting takes a moment to hit. Cautiously, I sit down on the edge of an armchair, my spine stiff and my muscles tense.
My heartbeat speeds up until it’s pounding against my ribs.
Slowly my gaze travels from Mr. Aslanhov’s serious face to the other man who’s looking at me as if he’s considering a purchase. He’s easily in his late thirties.
No.
Mr. Aslanhov waves a nonchalant hand over me. “As you can see, she’s beautiful and healthy.”
Oh, God. No.
“Hmm,” the man grumbles, his eyes raking over me again.
Even though I’d classify him as attractive, there’s something cruel in his eyes that makes my skin crawl.
“I feel you’re getting the better end of the deal,” Mr. Aslanhov says. “Tiana is fully trained to perform all wifely duties expected of her.”
The way they’re talking about me, as if I’m a horse that’s for sale, makes my heart shrink into a tiny ball.
“And her innocence is intact,” Mr. Aslanhov mentions.
Intense embarrassment washes over me, setting my face on fire.
“Good.” The man lifts an eyebrow at Mr. Aslanhov. “Do you have medical proof of her virginity?”
A dark expression tightens Mr. Aslanhov’s features until he looks like a thundercloud. “You’ll take my word as proof.”
The air is so tense it turns my breaths to shallow puffs.
“I accept the deal,” the man mutters with a tone that makes me feel like we’re wasting his time.
Mr. Aslanhov turns his stern gaze to me. “This is Karlin Makarova, Tiana. I’ve arranged a marriage for you.”
It feels as if a ton of lead fills my veins, and my stomach sinks. I have no idea where the bravery comes from as I ask, “Does Misha know?”
Mr. Aslanhov gives me a look filled with warning. “Misha will find out when he returns from his honeymoon. With your brother married, it’s your turn. You will not argue and accept the arranged marriage like any other bratva princess. Do you understand?”