Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 96417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 482(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 482(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
It all falls on me. It always has, and in some ways I’ve cultivated that. I work twice as hard and get half as far, but at least I’m still ahead. I earn what I have, and nobody can say that I’ve been given everything because of who my father is. If I weren’t so effective, I’d be out on my ass.
I can’t keep my mind on my work. Not with Siena sleeping in my bed. Pretty, beautiful, poisonous Siena. Emiliya’s sure to have spread her existence far and wide already. I’m positive my brothers know about her and are planning how they’ll use her against me. My parents are likely figuring out how they can best interrogate her over dinner to get every little secret out before they decide whether or not she’ll be allowed to stay.
Not that it matters, since I won’t let her go.
Why did I agree to this? Why did I open my fucking mouth and offer to marry her? There’s no way my father will allow it. Not as a parent, and not as a Pakhan. He simply cannot allow his oldest and highest-ranked son to marry the traitor daughter of a minor mafia Don. It would be a scandal the size of fucking Jupiter. All the other families would look at us sideways and start to wonder if maybe the Novalov family isn’t quite as smart and strong as everyone assumed. It could start a chain reaction of minor rebellions all over town.
And the worst part is, I don’t even know if I want this.
Marriage has always been a part of my world. My brothers and I have been expected to marry and pump out babies since the day we were born. It’s part of what it means to be in a bratva family. The continuation of our bloodline is paramount—though my blood is not exactly important—and nothing less than a big brood of babies will be accepted.
And yet now I wonder if it’s what I really want. Do I need a big family? Does Siena want that? Will she be miserable if she’s stuck with children? There will be nannies and plenty of help—my mother talks constantly about grandkids—but even still. I don’t know if she wants to be a mother. Not all women do, and I shouldn’t assume. Siena is a part of this, and her happiness must be a consideration.
I’m not such a monster that my wife’s feelings are of no concern.
Which is the problem, because I get the distinct impression that my wife feels nothing more than contempt for me at the moment.
Not that I can blame her. It’s partially my fault she’s here. Not entirely—but enough that she holds me responsible.
I don’t know how this will work. She’s defiant and doesn’t want to be here, and I’m not even sure I want to make her my wife. I don’t know how I’ll convince my father and my Pakhan that she’s the right choice for me when I can’t convince myself.
My head is all mixed up when someone pounds on the door. I grimace as the knob works, but the bolt is locked. I close the laptop lid and get up. “Who’s there?” I call out.
“Open up.” Jasha’s voice. “I wanna meet her.”
I sigh and unlock the bolt. I open the door and Jasha barrels into my sitting room. “Where is she?”
“She’s taking a nap.”
He looks disappointed. “Well, shit. Emiliya said she’d be here.”
“Does everyone know?”
“Within a mile radius by now. You know how Emiliya can be.”
“I do.” I scowl at him. I had a feeling this would happen.
Jasha pours himself a drink from my personal stash. He sips it and watches me over the rim, smirking. “What are you thinking, brother?”
“I’m thinking I want to take a mistress. Is that so much to ask?”
“I suppose not.” He swirls the ice. “There was that one time Feliks brought a woman home. You remember how that ended.”
She lasted three weeks before she disappeared one night and never returned. He doesn’t like to talk about her. “I’m pretty sure she decided she’d rather live on the streets than stay another second in his bed.”
Jasha laughs and shrugs. “Could be, or maybe the Pakhan tossed her out. You never know.”
“Father wouldn’t.”
“He would and you know it.” Jasha sighs and flops onto the couch. He kicks his feet up onto my coffee table and takes another long sip. “Now you’ve dragged this girl into the lion’s den. Are you trying to get her killed?”
“Apparently.”
“Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you. Feliks is already trying to come up with a way to use her against you.”
“I expected that.” I hesitate, leveling my coldest glare on him. “And what about you, littlest brother?”
He grins big. “Ah, now, Maxim. I know my place. I’d have to take you and Feliks both down, and that’s not my style.”