Bonus Content
Did you like this book? Then you’ll LOVE Merciless Union, the first book in a 4 book Russian Mafia romance series!
His duty was to choose me but his desire claimed me…
I am married off to the head of the Bratva, Maxim Petrov.
Taken from my safe home,
I’m thrust into an entirely new world:
One filled without mercy.
My new husband is a cold, ruthless man.
My body is consumed by him,
While my heart knows he could break it.
I want to love him,
But he’s made it difficult.
I try to break through the ice surrounding his heart.
Can I do it in time to save our marriage?
If I can’t,
Both me and my husband will be bound together forever…
Stuck in a marriage without love.
Start reading Merciless Union NOW!
Sneak Peek - Chapter One
Maxim
I watch as my father’s body is lowered into the ground, listening to the cries around me. My hands clench at my sides. Most of those cries are fake. My father wasn’t the most loved man—in fact, more people hated than loved him. But it’s a mafia funeral.
Everything is for show.
I glance around at the guests attending my father’s funeral. Over a hundred people showed, probably to get in my good graces. With my father gone, I’m head of the Bratva now.
The men who used to work for my father now work for me. I see some of them nod at me, offering pitying looks. Others exchange secretive glances as if I can’t see. We all know what’s about to happen.
A bloodbath.
Even though I’m the rightful heir to the Bratva in New York, many of my father’s men will want to contest it. The majority of them will fall in line the minute I’m officially made the boss, but I know—and they know—some of them will try to take over.
A few might even try to kill me.
I have to be on my guard and take ownership of the Bratva as soon as this funeral is over, claiming my rightful place.
I won’t get killed because my father unexpectedly died at fifty-eight. He should have had many more years left. But drinking and sleeping around will take a toll on the body. He died in the arms of one of his many mistresses, much to my mother's shame, Vasilisa.
She’s standing beside me, her head held high, no tears in her eyes. With her cool blonde hair and startling blue eyes, my mother is a fierce-looking woman. She won’t cry for anyone, which I learned growing up. She especially won’t cry for the man who left her with unsteady leadership and fucked another woman in her bedroom.
I’m proud of her, but I know my mother—she’s never needed anyone’s approval. She’ll make it clear how she feels about you, whether you like it or not.
A smaller hand grips my own. I glance down at my baby sister, Kira. She has our mother’s looks while I take after my father with his dark hair and deep blue eyes.
At only fifteen, Kira will feel the death of our father the hardest. She looks up at me, tears leaking from her eyes, and I offer her a small smile. I can’t show any affection to my siblings in public, not in front of the men who expect me to be a ruthless leader. But Kira needs my support as best as I can offer it.
I squeeze her hand, hoping she finds some comfort in it.
Elena, my other sister, sighs as she watches the casket disappear. She’s the spitting image of our mother and a lot like her, too—cold and reserved. The Ice Princess of the Bratva, as she’s nicknamed.
At her side is our brother, Alexei. He wipes at his eyes, trying to look tough. Good. He needs to learn that Bratva men don’t show their emotion in public. If something were to ever happen to me, Alexei would be next in line to take over. I can’t have him breaking down, even though it’s our father’s funeral. There’s no mercy within the mafia.
It’s something I had to learn the hard way growing up.
Quick, hard fists from my father. I had bruises throughout most of my childhood. Eventually, I got used to them, though my father stopped trying to hurt me after I got bigger and stronger. I was no longer weak. Now, at thirty, I haven’t let anyone hit me in over ten years. It’s a good feeling. A strong feeling.
Once the casket is fully lowered into the ground and everyone is dispersing to head to the reception, I take one last look around at everyone who showed up. I recognize many of the men since they’ve attended meetings with my father for years. Though, I don’t recognize their families. Now that I’ll be the leader of the Bratva, I need to start memorizing faces and names. I need to know who’s on my side and who’ll cause trouble.
A flash of red catches my eye.
A younger woman is standing next to an older man, her eyes downcast. Her features are stunning, elegant, and refined. There’s a poise to her I find intriguing. Red hair frames her face so perfectly, and I feel the urge to wrap my hands in it.
The older man, George Smirnoff, one of my father’s most trusted employees, nudges her. She opens her eyes and nods, following George as he walks away.
Still gripping Kira’s hand, I turn away to lead my family to our car. Once inside, Elena says, “I’m glad that’s over with.”
Alexei shoots her a glare. “He was our father. Show some respect.”
Elena doesn’t dignify Alexei’s comment. Instead, she looks out the window, silent and icy as always.
“Don’t snap at your sister,” our mother scolds as the driver starts the car and takes off. We’re all in the backseat, Kira, our mother, and me on one seat, with Elena and Alexei across from us. “You’re a Petrov. We don’t show our emotions, and we certainly don’t show it in front of others.”
Alexei scowls, crossing his arms. “So sue me for crying at our dad’s funeral.”
“You’ll learn in time,” I say. Kira rests her head on my shoulder, sniffling. I can feel my jacket shoulder grow wet.
Alexei nods at Kira. “She gets to cry.”
“She’s fifteen,” I remind him. “You’re twenty-three. And you might have to rule someday. You can’t ever show weakness.”
“It’s not fucking fair,” he mutters,
Our mother snaps, “Language.” Alexei fixes his jacket, not responding to her.
I look down at Kira. “How are you doing?”
She wipes her eyes, not meeting my gaze. “I’ll be fine.”
I put a finger under her chin, lifting her face. My thumb wipes one of her tears away, and she makes a face. “It’s all right to be sad.”
“Is it?” she asks.
I smile softly at her. “For you, it is.”
Alexei mutters under his breath, rolling his eyes. “You baby her.”
I ignore him, focusing on Kira. “Everything will be all right. I’ll take care of you.”
“You’ve already been taking care of me,” she says, lowering her voice so Mother can’t hear. “More than father ever did.”
Our father hit Alexei and me but never laid a hand on Elena or Kira. He had other ways to control them growing up, like never letting them leave the house unsupervised. They’ve been kept on tight leashes their entire lives. I know that’s why Elena isn’t upset about our father’s death. At twenty-five, she’s never been allowed to get married, while most girls in the Bratva are married off by the time they’re twenty. She’s never seen freedom. I was too young to protect her growing up.
But for Kira, I made sure to take the brunt of our father’s attention, so he couldn’t hurt her in the same way. It also helped that Kira was my parents’ miracle baby, which explains why she’s so much younger than the rest of us.
I had the strength to take care of her, and I’ve made sure to do so ever since she was born.
Alexei thinks I spoil her, but she’s my baby sister. I can’t help it.
The rest of the car ride is filled with strained tension. It’s like a bubble popping when we reach the reception hall. Alexei scrambles out of the car while I help my mother and sisters out. A Bratva man is ruthless and cold but also respectful when it comes to the women in his life.
Alexei doesn’t head inside. Instead, he walks away from the reception hall, going down the street.
“I’ll meet you inside,” I murmur to my mother. She glances at Alexei, pursing her lips before nodding, then ushers Elena and Kira to follow her inside.
I walk fast to catch up to Alexei and grab his arm to stop him. “Where do you think you’re going?”
He rips his arm out of my hold. “Does it matter?” His blue eyes flash in anger. He also got out father’s looks—dark and menacing. Everyone commented on the Petrov children growing up. Half of them are dark, the other half are light. It got old, real fast whenever someone said so at a party or function.
“Yes, it matters,” I growl, grabbing his arm again. “I know what you’re doing.”
Alexei smirks. “Yeah? And what am I doing, Maxim? Hmm?”
“You’re going to get into trouble. This isn’t the first time you’ve pulled a stunt when you’re upset. Don’t be stupid.”
He jerks his arm away again. I don’t try to grab him this time. “I’m not stupid,” he seethes. “And I can do whatever the hell I want.”
I glance around, noticing that as the guests arrive, they’re glancing at the scene Alexei and I are making. “Keep your fucking voice down. I want you to go in there and be on your best behavior. No chaos.”
He shakes his head, chuckling darkly. “Are you commanding this as my brother or my leader?”
“As your brother. But that can quickly change if you want to play it that way.”
Alexei looks at me as if I’m the enemy. “Then, as my brother, you don’t get to boss me around.” He looks toward the reception hall. “I’m going to grieve Dad in my own way.”
“If you do this,” I say, stepping in front of him, “it won’t look good for the family. It won’t look good for me that I can’t even get my brother to attend our father’s funeral. You’re going to make it harder for me to gain the trust of our father’s men. Think about your actions, Alexei.”
He scoffs. “You don’t think I do? You guys don’t need me in there. I’ll just fucking mess it up like I do everything else.” He gives me another disappointed look, then walks away.
I could try dragging him into the reception, but that wouldn’t be a good look either.
So, instead, I straighten my shoulders, fix my tie, and head off into the reception. I need to be present. Alexei can be the fuckup all he wants, but I need to do my duty for my family.
I rejoin my family as our guests offer condolences. The reception hall is decked out in the finest furnishings, fanciest foods, and most elegant décor imaginable. My mother went all out planning everything. Nothing but the best for my father, even in death.
Kira takes my hand again, and I give it another squeeze.
“So sorry for your loss,” one of my father’s men says as he approaches—I guess I’ll have to start thinking of them as my men. It’ll be an adjustment. This one is named Stepan Pasternack. He laundered money for the bratva, using his bar, casino, and strip club as lucrative businesses to hide the income from our drug shipments.
A small, hairy little man, Stepan has a glint in his eye I dislike as I shake his hand.
“Thank you,” I murmur.
Stepan’s eyes glide over to Kira. “I’ve never seen you out of your castle before.”
Kira doesn’t reply, ducking her head instead. While Elena chooses to be reserved to retain her ice princess status, Kira is genuinely shy. It’s another reason why I feel the need to protect her.
“Our father preferred her safe,” I cut in. “Nowhere safer than at home. I’m sure you can understand that, having daughters of your own.”
Stepan chuckles, making the skin crawl on the back of my neck. “Oh, I do. I hope you enjoy your time out of your castle, Princess.” His eyes slide over to Elena, who’s giving him a look of disgust. “Ah, the Ice Princess herself.” He extends his hand to her. Elena looks down at it as if his hand is covered in poison.
“No,” she says simply, turning her nose up to him.
Stepan’s face falls before he turns his smile on my mother. “Vasilisa, my condolences.”
She smiles tightly. “Thank you.”
“And Maxim,” he says, turning back to me. “I hope you have a long and eventful reign.”
I nod, then watch as he walks away. This job is going to be tougher than I thought.
The next guest to approach is George Smirnoff. Following him is the beautiful woman from earlier—the one with the red hair.
“Maxim, you know I’m here for you if you need anything,” George says, shaking my hand. Even at my father’s funeral, he’s already trying to get in good with me. I don’t mind. At least I know I can trust George. I can’t speak the same for a lot of the men here.
“Of course.” I pat his shoulder. “I appreciate that.”
George gestures for the woman to step forward. “This is my daughter, Arina.”
I offer her my hand, and she gently takes it. The handshake only lasts a second, but I can still feel her hand in mine long after it’s gone.
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Petrov,” she says in a sweet, twinkling voice.
I nod, keeping my face composed in a cool manner.
“Keep in mind what I said,” George comments before he guides his daughter away.
Kira squeezes my hand. “She was pretty,” she whispers.
“Where are you going with that comment?” I murmur out of the corner of my mouth.
She shrugs. “Just commentating.”
“Maxim,” a deep voice says as Nikolay Volkov approaches and shakes my hand. “Terrible loss. Your father will be missed.”
“Thanks, Nik,” I say dryly. Nikolay, or as I call him, Nik, has been my best friend ever since we were children. He’s the only one here I can completely trust. I also know he hated my father just as much as I did.
Nik glances over at Elena, but she turns her head away, sniffing as if he were a dog. With dark hair and a scruffy demeanor, I’ve seen women fall at Nik’s feet over the years. He always told me that women couldn’t resist his tattoos. I’m sure it’s a surprise to him that my sister has never swooned over him. I’m proud of her for that.
Nik smirks and looks back at me. I raise an eyebrow, but his smile just grows wider.
Glancing around, I lean in closer to him. “Listen, Nik. I’d like to talk to you about something. Come with me.” I start to walk away when Kira grips my hand tighter. I give her a small smile. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. I promise.”
She nods, letting my hand go.
I gesture for Nik to follow me, and we find a more secluded, quiet room away from the main reception hall. It’s a small library, with thick leather chairs all over the room for reading.
“What did you want to talk about?” Nik asks, entering the room.
I shut the door firmly behind me. “I want you to be my second in command.”
Nik’s eyes widen before a smile breaks out on his face. “I would be honored.”
“Good. That’s settled.”
Nik chuckles. “Just like that?”
I shrug. “Just like that. When I’m sworn in as leader tomorrow, I want you by my side. Everyone will know to follow you after me.”
“Thank you so much for this opportunity. I won’t let you down.” He rubs his hands together, a glint in his eye. “So, what’s first on the agenda for us?”
An idea pops into my mind. “Marriage.”
Nik frowns, dropping his hands. “Not what I was expecting.”
“I need to get married. I can already sense the rumblings of shifting power. I know a lot of those men out there would love the chance to be in charge of the Bratva and get me out of the way for good. They would also come after my family, and I can’t have that.”
“Of course not.”
I sigh. “So, I think marriage is my best bet to keep some of these men in line.”
Nik leans against a chair. “True. A strong marriage alliance could help enact goodwill. Did you have anyone in mind?”
“I do. George Smirnoff.”
Nik smirks. “You’re going to marry George Smirnoff?”
I give him a look. “No. His daughter. George has a lot of sway over the others. He’s been with my father for years, one of his most trusted employees. If people see that George likes me, more will give me their vote of confidence.”
“And,” he says slowly, “the best way to get George completely on your side is to marry his daughter.”
“Exactly.”
“What’s her name?”
“Her name?”
Nik sighs, shaking his head. “You don’t even know her name.”
“I know her name. Arina.” Her billowy red hair and elegant features come to mind. “Her name’s Arina.”
“Well, does Arina know what she’s getting herself into?”
“No. But she’ll soon learn. Then she’ll be mine.”