Chapter 3 - Katya #2
I glance around—the display cases I painted myself, the menu board I lettered, the kitchen light still glowing behind me. I can’t lose this, not like this.
Sure, my family knows about my bakery. But they never said they’d turn it into a cover for the family business. No, if anything, they’d just shut me down completely.
I choke down the lump in my throat and force out the words.
But if I were to marry Tikhon and have him promise never to use the bakery for the family's businesses, then I can keep it.
Tikhon could be my leverage to keep what I love most in the world.
But there have to be stipulations.
“Fine.”
His shoulders drop a little.
“I’ll marry you,” I say. Every word scrapes on the way out. “But listen close. This is just paperwork. You don’t touch me. You don’t own me. And if you ever use this shop for anything but pastries, I swear I’ll burn it to the ground before you lay a hand on it.”
He just looks at me for a long moment. Something shifts in his eyes—regret, maybe, or something uglier. I can’t read him.
“Understood,” he says, voice low.
I turn away so he won’t see the tears start to fall.
“Get out.”
He only pauses for a second.
The bell gives a soft little ring as the door swings shut behind him.
So I just stand there in the half-dark, arms wrapped tight around myself, wondering how the one person who made this place feel safe just became the thing I’m most afraid of.
***
The drive back to my dad’s house is just rain and smeared traffic lights—red and green bleeding across the windshield, everything blurred. I leave the radio off. I can’t drown out Tikhon’s words anyway. They play over and over, sharp as glass.
“I was obsessed with you. From the first day.”
“I couldn’t see another way to make you mine.”
“I used the threat because I was desperate.”
My grip on the steering wheel tightens until my hands hurt. Obsessed. Desperate. That’s not love. That’s something else. That’s the language of someone who wants to own you. The kind of words my father’s always used—family, duty, sacrifice. All those words are just a mask for control.
I pull up in front of the house. It looms, stone and cold, with lights blazing like an old fortress. I kill the engine and just sit there, breathing hard, staring at the front door. It looks like a mouth, waiting to swallow me whole.
Finally, I get out. I slam the car door—way too loud, but I don’t care.
The sound bounces off the bricks. Inside, the foyer feels stifling, heat pressing down.
The chandelier throws shards of light everywhere.
My heels echo with every step, too sharp, so I kick them off and leave them by the table.
Bare feet on cold stone help. At least the ground feels real.
I head straight for his study.
The door stands half open, warm lamplight spilling out. I don’t bother knocking. He’s at his desk, papers everywhere, a half-drunk whiskey in his hand, tie loose. He looks up when I walk in. Not surprised—just tired.
“Katya.”
I stop in the middle of the room, arms crossed, chin high.
“He lied to me.”
Dad sighs, puts his pen down. “Sit.”
“I’ll stand.”
He studies me for a long moment, then leans back in his chair. “What did he tell you?”
“Everything.” My voice is solid, even though my hands won’t stop shaking. “That he’s been watching me for months. That this was all planned. That he threatened the shop because he’s obsessed with me. Because he couldn’t stand the idea of me saying no.”
Dad’s face doesn’t change. He just nods, like he expected every word.
“And you’re surprised?” he says.
That hits like a slap.
“Yes,” I snap. “I’m surprised my own father would hand me over to a man who was ready to ruin my life just to own me.”
He leans forward, elbows on the desk. “I didn’t hand you over.
I arranged a marriage. One we needed. The Sokolovs and Letvins have been at each other's throats for years. Ilariy and Arina bought us time. You and Tikhon end it. No more bodies in the street. No more car bombs. No more kids growing up without fathers over territory. You know what’s at stake. ”
“I know you think that makes it okay.”
“It does.”
I laugh—a sharp, ugly sound. “You sound just like him.”
His eyes narrow. “Careful, Katyusha.”
“No.” I step in closer. “You don’t get to warn me, not after this. You knew what he was doing. You knew about the shop. You let him go after me. You probably pushed him to.”
“I gave him permission to pursue you. Yes. He’s the best match we could want. Strong. Loyal. Smart. He’ll keep you safe.”
“Safe?” My voice cracks. “He threatened me, Dad. He threatened to turn the only thing I’ve ever built into a front for his dirty business. And you just… let him?”
“I was fine with whatever it took to make you see sense.”
That hurts more than anything he could have done.
I look at him. Really look. The man who used to carry me on his shoulders. The man who cried when Mom died. The same man who taught me to shoot when I was twelve because “a Letvin girl has to know how to protect herself.”
He’s still that man.
And he’s also this one.
“I’m not marrying him,” I say, quiet but steady.
He rises—slow, big, filling the room. His voice drops, dangerous and final. “Yes. You are.”
“No.”
“Katya—”
I said no.” My voice stays steady. “I’m not for sale. Not for peace, not for power—nothing. I’m done.”
He gives me that look. The one he saves for people who go too far.
“You know your place in this family.”
“Yeah, I do.” I hold his gaze. “And it’s not sitting on some bargaining table.”
The silence between us grows heavy. Feels like it could crush me.
Then, softer than I expect, he says, “You really think you can just walk away? You think he’ll let you? Or that I will?”
I don’t bother answering.
Instead, I turn and leave.
He doesn’t stop me.
I pull the study door shut behind me, quiet but sure.
Then I run up the stairs to my room. I slam the door and lock it.
I slide down to the floor, pulling my knees in, breathing too fast.
He’ll come for me.
Tikhon.
Maybe tomorrow. Maybe the day after.
“And when he does…”
Honestly, I don’t know what I’ll say.
But I do know this—I’m not marrying a man who has to threaten me just to make me his.
And I’m done letting my father, or anyone, decide what happens to me.
That ends now.