14. Natasha
14
NATASHA
I t’s a beautiful day out. Which is why we stay in the rooftop garden long after breakfast is finished to enjoy the sunshine and the fresh scent of blooming roses, juniper, and lavender that mingle in the air.
The hint of a smile touches my lips as I listen to my mother coercing my father to take the entire day off. That he doesn’t spend enough time relaxing—and what’s the point of being in charge if he can’t leave his men to run things every once in a while.
“Perhaps I ought to start sending Tatiana to do more of my negotiations,” he says cheekily.
And though I don’t open my eyes from where I recline on my sun chair, I can just picture his playful smile directed at my older sister.
“I’m doing just fine with the concrete side of the business,” she points out matter-of-factly. “You said so yourself just last week.”
I slit an eyelid to catch the imperious way she tips her chin.
“No doubt,” he agrees. “But I would like to make sure you have that side fully in hand before we alter the chain of command?—”
“Maksim! What happened?” Mother gasps, cutting my father short as her hand jumps up to cover her lips. And from the concern etched in her features, I know something’s wrong.
Bolting upright on my lounge chair, I turn to look at my father’s trusted captain. One eye is nearly swollen shut, the opposite cheekbone a reddish purple. Several of his men hesitate behind him, all looking as if they were beaten with equal brutality.
“He was at the pub—along with that damn behemoth of a guard who’s like a second shadow. We must have interrupted a meeting because they outnumbered us nearly two to one. We managed to smash the place up a bit. But they were on us before we could get the job done.”
Maksim’s gaze flashes from my father to my mother, then quickly between me and Tatiana, like he’s uncomfortable speaking about business so openly in front of us. But he better get used to it, because someday, we’ll be the only ones to talk to.
That won’t be for years to come, though. It must be Killian’s taunts niggling at the back of my mind that make me more conscious of the future and what it will look like once my father’s gone. Certainly not as seamless as it is now. But I trust that Tatiana will make a fine pakhansha . So long as she and I can stand our ground.
“Did we lose anyone?” Papa asks, his hand fisting on top of the patio table.
To my surprise, Maksim shakes his head. “We’re a bit worse for wear but all alive. He sent us to you with a message—he’ll stop harassing you if you give him your daughter’s hand in marriage.”
My heart skips a beat at the suggestion. And though he made the same proposal at the charity ball a few weeks ago, it strikes differently now. Now that I know what it might be like to end up the wife of the infuriating Irish mafia boss.
Would marrying him be the worst thing in the world? Maybe not, if it could stop the conflict that’s been weighing heavily on my father since that night. For the breadth of a moment, I open my mouth to say it might not be the worst alternative.
But before I can speak, my father rises from his chair.
And in a fit of rage, he turns the glass patio table upside down. Glass shatters across the paving stones of our rooftop garden. I jump at the unexpected display of temper that I’m not accustomed to seeing from my father.
Maksim and his men look no less shocked.
The color continues to rise in my father’s cheeks until he’s a brilliant shade of red. “That bastard will see me in my grave before I let him marry one of my daughters. All the parasites who think they can claim my girls will face the full force of my wrath. Killian King is scum, and I would sooner go to war with the Irish than even think of forming a marriage alliance with that man.”
Maksim gives a silent nod of confirmation, and a moment later, he bows from the patio, leaving us alone once more.
Turning my eyes back to my father, I watch in stunned silence as I consider the weight of his words. They unleash a mass of confusion inside me because I’m both intensely relieved to hear him be so supportive of our independence, so protective of our autonomy.
It’s not often like that in such a male-dominated world. Most mafia daughters born into high-ranking families are sold off into arranged marriages that would better their families. Most girls are used to make alliances—just like the one Killian is proposing.
It solidifies empires and strengthens ties.
But our father is forward-thinking enough to realize that we don’t need men to give us strength. And Tatiana doesn’t need a cock in order to have a brain. I love that about him.
He wants to give us everything he would have given a son. Because he has faith that we can rule his empire just as successfully as he does.
Still, I can’t help the sinking feeling in my stomach to see him react so poorly to Killian’s proposal. It solidifies what I already know—that my father would be horrified about the deal I struck with Killian if he found out.
He would be dismayed if he knew just how weak I really am. How could he possibly understand why I took the deal I did? He couldn’t. Not when he won’t even consider a proper match with Killian to stop the feud between our families.
And I strongly dislike the hint of disappointment it brings to know it for certain.
Eyes burning with fury, my father turns to me. “You need to kill that Irish mudak ,” he snarls. “To protect your sister and your family.”
My heart jumps uncomfortably at the mention of Tatiana, and a dark foreboding trickles into my mind. Though I can’t quite put my finger on why.
“Killian’s clearly after Tatiana and the power she wields, and I won’t see her inheritance fall into that Irish bastard’s hands,” Papa states flatly.
And it hits me then. Why I don’t like the idea of needing to protect my sister from Killian.
Because when Maksim brought the proposal to my father, I hadn’t even considered the possibility that Killian might be referring to Tatiana. I’d automatically assumed his offer involved me.
But he hadn’t asked for my hand in marriage. He’d asked for Boris’s daughter. And that could just as easily mean he wants to marry Tatiana— in fact, why wouldn’t it? Papa’s right. As the elder of his two daughters, Tatiana would be the more appealing option.
She always has been the first choice.
And until now, that’s never bothered me.
But a shockingly powerful sense of rejection slices through me at the realization that Killian’s terms could, in fact, mean he wants to marry Tatiana. Who am I kidding? They probably do.
He’s already gotten everything from me he could ever want.
Now, he’s after the key to the kingdom.
Heat radiates through my core as I think back on my conversation with Killian about how I learned to kiss from my sister. I hadn’t noticed it then, but while I thought he was picturing me and Tatiana together, he was probably picturing kissing her himself.
And then he went and fucked me.
Again and again.
Hurt flashes to white-hot rage in an instant. And suddenly, I’m all for protecting my sister—and my family—from the Irish bastard.
Rising from my seat, I lift my chin with fierce conviction. “I’ll go now and watch for an opening. Tonight, I’ll rid us of Killian King once and for all.”