Chapter One
SAINT PETERSBURG, RUSSIA
SIX YEARS LATER
L ooking down at my toes, I wiggled them ever so slightly.
The cherry red paint on the tips of them were finally dry, so I was ready to go party the night away with friends.
Reaching over for my flute of champagne, I finished what I had left, then rose from the couch.
It was small, as was my luxury apartment, but it was in the swankiest part of Saint Petersburg, which had always been home to me.
Even after my father had moved to Moscow, I had talked him into allowing me to go to boarding school in America instead of moving there.
Upon leaving that same school, I returned back to the place I had always loved so much.
Although, if I knew then what I knew now, I might’ve just sucked it up and joined my father.
I wouldn’t let what had happened back in New York consume me.
As it was, I still relived that tragic night often enough in my nightmares.
I certainly didn’t need to waste any of my waking thoughts thinking about it, too.
While my entire time in the country hadn’t been bad, that one singular event dominated any thoughts about the place.
It now seemed as if the only good thing I still had from the States was my friendship with Rebekah, a girl whom I had kept in close touch with ever since returning home.
“I almost wish you were here tonight to join me and the others,” I murmured.
She wasn’t, and one of these days, I would take her up on her offer to return for a girls’ trip, but until then, I had plenty of friends here in Russia. In fact, this evening we were headed out to Union for a night of debauchery. If I didn’t intend to be late, I needed to finish getting ready.
Thankfully, I had thought to do my hair, makeup, and even get into my dress before I’d summoned my nail girl to my apartment to do my pedicure.
I swung my legs over the front of the couch and proceeded to put on my strappy heels in silver, which would complement my dress.
Once they were on, I rose fully to my feet and stopped in front of a set of mirrored doors.
The red mini dress barely went down to my mid-thighs.
It had a shimmery swirl that started on one arm, then perfectly split my breasts before curving around my hips and coming just back around at the bottom of the dress.
I was in the mood for more than a simple night of dancing, and upon realizing how long my sexual drought had actually been, I needed to remedy that tonight.
Once upon a time, I had been a bit more prudish, as some would say, but that all changed by the time I returned home.
I didn’t mind sex, and actually quite enjoyed it, but only when I felt in control.
I was not one to be submissive, although I could be if the mood struck me. Fortunately, it rarely did.
I say who, when, and how, and nothing will change that.
I walked into the bathroom to inspect my makeup once more and to apply a few spritzes of perfume before exiting and returning to the living room.
When I did, I noticed a series of missed messages on my cell phone.
I must’ve accidentally turned the volume down again because I hadn’t heard the first call.
As I picked it up, I noticed they were all from my father, and in the off chance that whatever it was happened to be important, I hit redial on the last missed call.
“Papa,” I said the moment he picked up.
“Where have you been, Katya?” he asked, using the nickname he’d always had for me.
“I’ve been home, but I won’t be here for long. Is something wrong?”
I heard his exhale of breath, and I briefly started to wonder if he’d heard about the other night’s shenanigans. Something was troubling him, and I dreaded to know what it was, or who, because odds were that it involved me in some capacity.
“There is, and it’s something only you can help me with.”
“Okay,” I said slowly before sitting down at my vanity. “What do you need?”
In recent years, my father had been including me in more Bratva related things.
I’d wanted to learn about the business even though I knew he’d never turn it over to me.
A lot of men like my father prided themselves on tradition, and as was standard in his world, the sons inherited the empire, and the daughters married others who could one day do so if no son was available.
I wasn’t a fan of antiquated ideas such as that, and if I ever did settle down to marry, it would be to a man of my choosing and not some stooge my father picked out for me. Fifty years ago, I would’ve been the good little girl. Now, I preferred being a bad bitch, and would be until the day I died.
“Papa,” I said when he didn’t immediately answer.
“You have to promise me that you’ll do everything I say,” he responded.
“I can’t promise that, Papa. You should know?—”
“I’ve fallen into some real trouble, Ekaterina.” At his pause, I narrowed my eyes. My father was usually more direct, but he appeared to be struggling mightily with whatever it was he needed to say. Finally, he spoke again. “I need for you to save not only my life, but that of our family.”
“Save our lives?” Now, I was getting concerned, especially after hearing the panic in his normally calm voice. “How? By doing what?”
“It’s already done. You’re betrothed, and he’ll be coming in two days’ time to take you home with him to Yerevan.”
“Betrothed? What the hell? To whom?”
“Katya,” he said, “Please understand that if there was another way, I would’ve done it.”
“You’re not making any sense. How is my marrying someone going to save our lives? Are you in some sort of trouble?”
“Yes!” It was definitive, and the single word sent a shudder down my spine.
“What kind of trouble?”
“I owe some very powerful people extremely large sums of money.”
“If it’s money they need, surely I can help. I have those inheritances?—”
“You don’t have them any longer, Katya. I needed them to get you out of the trouble in New York.”
And just like that, my nightmares were now encroaching on my waking thoughts. “What do you mean?”
“Surely you cannot be so delusional as to think that it didn’t take a large sum of money to buy your way out of that sort of trouble.”
“It’d been an accident. You know?—”
“Underage drinking...Driving under the influence...Illegal drugs...Breaking and entering...And that doesn’t even count vehicular homicide of an heir to the Irish fucking Mafia, Katya. Getting the charges dropped and protection for you set in place nearly bankrupted the family.”
“I never knew,” I said softly. “That changes nothing, though.”
“I’ve been living on borrowed time and borrowed funding. Now, it’s all gone and I’m unable to pay it back.”
“Who do you owe?”
“The man you’ll marry to pay for your sins and mine.”
“Who is this man?”
Dread filled me, as did regret. I’d never known how financially taxing my actions that night had been to my family, but I now knew. Still, I refused to even entertain the idea of being sold off like a possession.
“Aram Grigoryan.”
And certainly not to him. “With the AP?”
“Yes. He’ll make a fine husband for you, and we’ll never have to worry about anything else again. His name and title will protect us.”
“I can’t do this, Papa. I won’t.”
“You have to, Katya. You owe this to me for what I had to do for you.”
“I would have preferred you let me rot in an American prison than sell me off to someone who’ll keep me in an Armenian one. I’m not marrying Aram. Not now, or ever.”
“He’ll kill me, then torture and force you to bend to his will anyway. If you go in willingly, you can salvage your pride and my life.”
“I'm sorry. This is something I'm unable to do. Even for you.” I hung up, my heart racing. I was shaking because there was much truth to his words. Aram would take me and force me into subservience. He’d likely force me to bear his children, then lock me away for the rest of my days.
I won’t do it.
I can’t do it.
If I didn’t want to be forced into matrimony to a tyrant even older than my father, I needed to get out of Russia, and as quickly as I could.
For all I knew, the man could be on his way now to get me.
Realizing my night plans were now ruined, I canceled on my friends, then scrolled through my contact list until I found the one person who might be able to help me.
There was a considerable time distance between us, but I pressed the call button.
Desperate times call for desperate measures.