Chapter Four
KATERINA
Walking up to Luka’s truck, the bodyguards appear with my luggage, just long enough to set down the suitcases in the back of Luka’s truck and then hand him the garment bag, then they slip back towards the private jet without a word.
Scottie eyes the hanger bag warily. “Is that the—?”
“The dress,” I say.
“Right.” He clears his throat. “I wasn’t going to ask to see it.”
“Yes, you were.”
“Okay… yeah, I was.”
Luka chuckles. “She’s superstitious.
“And practical,” I say, and then glance over to Scottie. “Mostly practical.”
Luka takes the garment bag around the passenger driver's side and hangs it up. Scottie reaches for my door first. I stop for a second. Being in New York, I’ve forgotten what it’s like to have the door opened for me. He waits for me to climb in and get adjusted, and then he shuts the door behind me.
Soon, we’re moving. The car is too quiet.
Seattle blurs past the window in muted greens and grays, a city that looks soft compared to New York and compared to Moscow. Maybe it’s beautiful. I can’t tell. Everything feels temporary, like I’ve stepped into someone else’s life and am only borrowing it for a moment.
Now it’s just me, my brother, and the man I’m supposed to marry.
In the front seat, Luka is explaining the situation to Scottie in low, even tones. I catch pieces…family…leverage… our father—but my mind is spinning too fast to hold on to any of it.
“Kat?” Luka says softly in Russian. “You’re quiet.”
“I’m thinking,” I answer.
He nods and switches to English for Scottie. “I was telling him why this is the only option.”
Scottie turns slightly to look at me, brow furrowed.
He’s trying to piece everything together—trying to understand the storm he willingly stepped into.
Or I think it was willing. Unless my brother has some kind of leverage he’s holding over Scottie.
It makes me curious why a good-looking, successful guy like Scottie would agree to marry a teammate's sister.
It's obvious that Scottie seems a little like a deer in headlights. And based on the fact that my brother seems to be just now filling Scottie in on the details of our family dynamics, I would say he was blindsided when I got off the jet.
What I really want to know is… why? Why is he agreeing to this?
It can’t just be because he’s a nice guy. No one is that nice.
And it can’t be because he and my brother are the best of friends. My brother’s not all that warm and fuzzy as it is. I’ve known him all my life, and I can barely stand him most days… though I do love him. But love is different. You can love someone and not particularly like them.
“So your father is forcing you into a marriage you don’t want,” he says slowly.
“Yes.”
“And if you go back, you have no way out.”
“Yes.”
“And marrying me keeps you here.”
“That’s what Luka believes,” I say, locking eyes with Luka in the rearview mirror for just a moment. I’m still not one hundred percent sure that his plan will work, but it’s the only option I have.
Scottie hesitates. “Is it true?”
There are softer versions of the truth I could offer him. Safer ones. But he deserves the real version, even if it terrifies him.
“My father is… well, let’s just say he has a lot of influence,” I tell him.
“His influence reaches far beyond Russia. A marriage between Maxim Volkov and me would give him the political access and legitimacy he’s been desperate to reclaim.
The climate in how mob families are allowed to conduct themselves is changing, and quickly. ”
Scottie’s jaw tightens. “And you’re just supposed to let him use you to make this change.”
“I don’t get a choice.”
“That’s bullshit.”
A small breath escapes me—almost amusement. “Yes. It is.”
“So this,” he gestures loosely between us, “is about giving you a choice. Any choice.”
“Yes. I can’t be married to two men. If I’m married to you, Luka believes that our grandmother won’t allow my father to drag me back. It won’t look good for the family, and image is everything. Especially since they are supposed to be lying low.”
Silence settles again, heavier but clearer.
We’re nearly at the building when he speaks again. “Earlier, you said your dad disowned Luka. Why?”
Luka exhales through his nose, the sound clipped. “You want the full story?”
“I think I should have it,” Scottie says.
Luka’s voice stays calm, but I hear the tension beneath. “I was supposed to inherit everything. The power, the responsibilities, and all the expectations. There’s a path for the oldest son in our family, and it’s carved from blood.”
He pauses.
“I didn’t want it.”
He doesn’t need to elaborate. I already know every part of this story. Every wound.
“I chose hockey,” Luka says. “I chose a different life. At first, he didn’t cause too many waves since I was bringing honor to Russia on the Olympic team, but with so much changing, he wanted me to use my two-time Olympic run to help put a new face on the organization.
When I told him I had no plans to stop playing in order to be his puppet, he called me a traitor. Cut me off completely.”
“He let you go?” Scottie asks Luka.
“Babushka,” I say softly. “Our grandmother did. She’s the one my father answers to.”
“And she approved?” Scottie asks.
“She allowed it,” Luka corrects. “On the condition I leave everything behind.”
He glances at me in the mirror. “But there’s one thing they can’t make me leave behind. Our mother made me promise to protect Katerina at all costs, and I will.”
Scottie absorbs that with a solemn nod. “Where is your mother now?”
“She passed away when I was fourteen,” I mutter.
I hear Luka let out a sigh and his hands tighten around the steering wheel. Losing her was a blow for both of us. He had to play in the Olympics the night she passed. I can’t imagine how hard it was to get out on the ice when my brother’s heart was broken. He’s the strongest man I know.
Scottie shifts in his seat. “If your dad is as dangerous as you’re saying… why hasn’t he tried to force you back already?”
“He’s trying to. My father made a deal with me that I could train where my mother learned to dance, at Juilliard. And then, when it was time for me to fulfill my duties, I would return.”
“Your mother was an American?” Scottie asks.
I nod. “Our father came to the States when he was younger, before he took over the family. He saw her at a theater. She was performing as a prima ballerina. He stayed in the States two more weeks longer than he planned just to work up the courage to talk to her. He fell in love instantly. My grandfather was the head of the family back then. I don’t think our mother quite understood the gravity of who my father would become.
But she loved him until the day she died. ”
“Why do you think my English is so good?” Luka teases.
“So why can’t you just turn away from the family like Luka did?” Scottie asks.
“I’m more useful now with how everything is changing for the kind of 'family business' our father runs.”
Scottie frowns. “Useful how?”
“Women in my family are assets,” I say flatly. “Married for alliances. Traded for connections. I’m leverage.”
“That’s insane,” he mutters.
“That’s our reality,” Luka says simply.
“So if he’s so controlling, how does marrying me stop him from taking you back home?” Scottie asks, glancing between the two of us.
“Babushka for the save again,” Luka says, his eyes finding me in the rearview mirror.
“Our grandmother believes in optics, and my father is being watched right now. If you two are married, our father can’t make her marry Maxim.
Our grandmother won’t stand for it. It’s our only hope.
It should buy Kat enough time to find a company in Seattle, out of our father’s influence, to renew her visa that is set to expire in six weeks. ”
Luka pulls into the underground garage of a tall sky-rise apartment building, with a sign that says, The Commons. The concrete swallows the sound of the engine, leaving the moment quiet and suspended.
We all file out of the truck. Scottie and Luka grab all the bags, not allowing me to carry anything else.
If they only understood that I’ve been living in New York for the last eight years without a car, they would understand that I’m fully capable of carrying things long distances, like bags of groceries and my ballet duffel bag.
I’m not as helpless as Luka makes me out to be.
I shouldn’t care that Scottie might think that too… but I do.
The elevator ride is worse.
Luka checks emails. I watch the floors climb. And Scottie… fidgets like the walls are closing in.
“Are you nervous?” I ask before I can stop myself.
He startles. “What? No, I mean—maybe. Are you?”
“Yes.”
“Oh.” He straightens. “Well, that’s… oddly comforting.”
My lips twitch. He catches it instantly.
“Was that almost a smile?” he asks.
“No.”
“It was,” Luka snorts. “She smiled.”
“I did not.”
Scottie grins, big and bright and infuriating. “We’re bonding.”
“We are not bonding,” I say, trying not to like the way he smiles at me.
“Give it a week,” he nods, as if it’s inevitable.
I clear my throat and ignore the idea of bonding with the man I’m about to marry.
“You don’t have anything to worry about, by the way.
Our father won’t put a hit out on you. He can’t afford that kind of attention.
There are a lot of people who want an excuse to put him away for life.
You’re too high profile and, again, our grandmother won’t allow it.
If he wants me, he’ll find another way to drag me home.
My grandmother is the only protection I have… and being married to you.”
“I’ll try to let that make me feel a little better,” he says sarcastically. Then Scottie pipes up. “Wait, we just passed my floor.” He looks at Luka with confusion.
“I know. I rented the penthouse suite from Coach Haynes. He and Juliet bought a house in the gated community that everyone else has been buying houses in. He’s subleasing it to me.”