Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 69662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
I was an idiot, naive to think that the dangerous and greedy world that he—that I—surrounded myself with wouldn’t touch me. This was, after all, how things were done in the Bratva, so why did I think I’d go unscathed? Why did I think I would go untouched within it?
“Sweetheart, you know I love you, more than anything else.”
I glanced up at him and gritted my teeth, loving my father with all my heart despite the fact I knew he did horrible things.
“But I spoiled you for your entire life. I bent to your whims, gave you everything you wanted, anything you needed. I was lenient, broke rules for you so that you would be happy. But there comes a time when we all have to yield to the higher powers that be. You know this is how things work.”
I shook my head even though I knew what he said was true.
“As much as I wish I could keep you away from the ugliness that we’re so accustomed to, none of us are immune to that. Do you understand?”
Although his voice was soft, almost gentle, the kind of tone I remembered for so long growing up, I could see the hardness in his eyes. He wouldn’t bend to this.
“So the freedom you gave me growing up was nothing but an illusion?” I said those words more to myself than him. His frustrated sigh was loud, but I refused to look at him. “What was the point of any of it, of letting me stay in the city, having my own place, thinking that I had a chance to create my own future, if at the end of the day none of it was real?”
“Again,” he said softly. “I’ve sheltered you for far too long. And the reality of our world is that you should have been married with children by now. These are the rules, Anastasia.”
“Sometimes rules are meant to be broken,” I said in a harder voice, looking him directly in the eyes. He exhaled and shook his head as he brought his tumbler to his mouth and took a long pull from it, staring off into the distance.
“Not when it involves the Bratva, princess. You know this.”
Perhaps I did.I had to try. I straightened my shoulders, forced myself not to cry out in frustration, and then breathed out slowly.
“This is my life and I will not have it dictated. I will not marry Ivan. I can’t.”
“I want you safe, and Ivan will ensure your safety and security. It will also make strong alliances.” He took a step forward. “You will do this, darling, because you’re my daughter, and going against what I say looks bad and trickles down. It makes me and the organization look weak, and that is not what is going to happen.”
He glanced down at my locket, and I lifted my hand to cover it in a protective manner.
I knew at the end of the day what I said was an empty threat. Short of me running away, how could I ever stop this?
And even escaping this arranged marriage wasn’t going to solve anything.
My father would find me. Always.
I found myself in a daze as I left my father and headed toward the front doors. I passed waitstaff, vaguely aware of murmuring my hellos and goodbyes to them.
“Shouldn’t you be with Vladimir and doing the heinous things men like you do?”
It was my mother’s clipped voice that drew me out of my thoughts. I stopped and glanced toward the sunroom, where I knew my mother was probably guzzling a carafe of wine.
“Vladimir asked me to leave his office because Anastasia came by and they’re discussing things.”
I recognized Timur’s voice as he answered. My mother gave a very unladylike snort in response and then there was a long procession of silence, which I could picture was because she was downing a glass of chardonnay.
“Well, regardless, go loiter somewhere else.”
I knew I was supposed to love my mother, but she made it unbearably hard. She was the most uncaring woman I’d ever met, and I was pretty sure the only reason she became pregnant was because my father wanted a child.
She never really saw me as a daughter, not that I ever felt like one to her. I felt as if I were an accessory, a tagalong that she was forced to bring with her to functions and to show off.
When I heard footsteps coming down the hall, I started making my way to the front doors, not wanting to be caught eavesdropping. But as soon as I walked past the archway of the hallway, Timur walked out, his hands in his pockets, his head lowered.
He had a scowl on his face, and we nearly would have collided if I hadn’t sidestepped.
“Izvinite,” he apologized but when he saw it was me, he gave me that brilliant smile I was so accustomed to.