Chapter 3
“What the fuck?” I roar to Aleksy when we’re in a private room inside the cathedral. “You can’t just throw a random woman in front of me at the altar.”
My pulse hasn’t slowed since the moment I lifted the veil and saw her.
Not Dasha.
Liliya.
The wrong fucking bride.
The wrong fucking sister.
I played along with their game long enough to recite our vows, to tie her to me for the rest of her life. All of it was a part of my strategy to completely fuck Aleksy and the Russian Bratva.
I did what I had to do and then sealed my scheme with a kiss.
Then, I pushed Liliya away as if her kiss had poisoned me, turned to our guests, and told all of them but Aleksy to get the hell out.
Liliya stared at me, speechless, her green eyes wide in shock.
I’m not a man who plays games.
I’m the one who cheats in them.
Luckily, our guests, along with the priest and my bride, did as I’d demanded.
Antonio, the boss of the family I work for, also stayed. So did his underboss, Damien, and a capo, Julian. As did the mother of the dishonest bride.
Aleksy, along with his underboss, Lev, and Antonio, Damien, and Julian, followed me into this office that I’m positive belongs to the priest.
Aleksy stands in front of the door and leans back on his heels. “Technically, she’s still a Morozova.”
I smirk at his lack of concern, pull my fist back, and punch him square in the jaw.
He stumbles back, slamming into the door, and his skull makes a thud against the wood.
“Technically,” I sneer, shaking out my hand, “that was just a love tap, you mouthy motherfucker.”
Aleksy lunges toward me, which I happily welcome, but Antonio steps between us. Aleksy stops in his tracks, refusing to break through Antonio.
I square my shoulders, staring Aleksy down in a silent dare.
Do it, you dumb motherfucker.
Give me an excuse to break every bone in your fucking face.
“All right,” Damien says, stepping to my side, as if ready to intercept me if Aleksy gets mouthy again. “Let’s work this out before someone ends up dead.”
“I don’t mind a few dead Russians.” I keep my glare on Aleksy.
Aleksy spits blood from his busted lip on the ornate rug. His jaw is already swelling, and I clench my fist, wishing I could punch the fucker again. My knuckles still tremble from the first blow, and it’s like they’re begging for a second go at him.
I shove aside a stack of paperwork on the desk, lean against it, and cross my arms while waiting for Aleksy’s pathetic excuse.
He wipes the corner of his mouth with his sleeve. “Dasha ran off.”
“Ran off where?” I pop my knuckles.
“We don’t know.” He slaps his lanky arms to his sides, looking too weak for my liking.
“Then why the fuck are you here, playing Swap the Fucking Bride, instead of tracking her down?”
“We found out she was missing only thirty minutes ago,” Aleksy explains. “Liliya was here, so we made a judgment call. It’s a small change.”
“A small change?” Julian repeats with a dry laugh, shaking his head. “Jesus. You’re talking about a woman like she’s a lunch order substitution. Sorry, we’re out of Dasha. How about a Liliya instead?” He grins. “Good thing my wife isn’t listening to this conversation. She’d tear you a new one.”
I shoot him a death glare.
He chuckles in amusement. The fucker clearly isn’t as pissed as I am about the situation, which only frustrates me further. I’m ready to punch him next.
“Look,” Antonio says in an all-business tone. “We can make this work.” He shoots me a work with me look. “She’s a Morozova woman. Be glad we found out the other was a runner before the wedding.”
“I won’t let Dasha get away with this,” Aleksy bites out. “When I find her, I’ll kill whoever helped her run off. Then you can wed her to any man of yours.” He presses his palm to his heart. “We’ll make this right, Antonio.”
I work my jaw, knowing I won’t let Aleksy off the hook for this.
But Antonio’s right. It’s not that big of a deal.
The issue is, he doesn’t know why I wanted the other sister.
Dasha was the safe option.
When I looked at her, there was nothing but disinterest. In the short conversation we had, I knew she wasn’t a bride I’d care about.
But her sister?
She’s a different story.
The moment I saw Liliya, she captured my attention.
I’d never seen such a beautiful woman before.
Her red dress clung to her every curve, and her heels brought her closer to my height.
When she glanced at me, her green eyes burned in my direction.
Her dark curls fell down her back, and I clenched my fist every time I thought about gripping those strands in my hand.
I wasn’t the only man who noticed her either. A stab of jealousy hit me anytime another man looked at her—an emotion I’d never felt before. Liliya was trouble—everything I shouldn’t want—and I was thankful she hadn’t been chosen as my bride.
I wanted to touch her, to fuck her, to possess her.
That’s not indifference, so I couldn’t have that.
I only agreed to the marriage contract for the sake of business and peace.
“You want to make this right?” I ask.
Aleksy nods.
I let the silence hang for a moment and run my tongue over my front teeth.
“A change for a change,” I finally say. “Your ploy will not go unpunished, Aleksy.”
“What do you want, Lastro?” Aleksy raises a thick brow.
Antonio cocks his head to the side. He didn’t expect me to follow through with Aleksy’s offer.
“My new wife moves in with me tonight.” I stare Aleksy down. “No more surprises. I’m not in the business of chasing runaways or tracking down wives.”
Aleksy steps forward. “That wasn’t part of the contract—”
“Neither was me marrying the other sister,” I interrupt before grabbing the closest notepad, yanking off a page that looks like it belongs in a sermon binder, tossing it over my shoulder, and tapping the pen against the fresh sheet.
“You broke the deal, Aleksy. That means, I get to rewrite it. Liliya moves in with me, or I nullify this wedding. And your little empire?” I use my hand to create a slashing motion across my throat.
“Dead. No more Bratva influence in this city for the next thousand fucking decades.”
Aleksy pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Liliya won’t go for that.”
I scoff. “Are you not the Bratva boss?”
His face hardens at my disrespect.
In the first contract, where I married Dasha, I didn’t press the issue of her moving in with me.
Cohabitating with someone sounded like a fucking nightmare, especially with a woman I didn’t care about.
Liliya and Aleksy both knew this. I’m sure it’s one of the reasons Liliya agreed to even walk down the aisle.
Aleksy hesitates, fumbling for the right words, like a lost puppy in a new home.
He’s a new boss, and the Bratva will crumble under his rule.
Some men are born to lead.
Aleksy isn’t one of them.
He’s bound to fuck up early and get himself killed.
Liliya should be grateful she’ll now be under my protection instead of his.
“Tell her to pack her bags.” I scribble words onto the paper, rip it off the notepad, and fold it before slipping it into my pocket. “After all, it’s just a minor change, right?”
Aleksy runs a hand through his buzzed hair, his face red and rigid.
I jerk my chin toward the door, holding back the urge to say chop-chop. My patience won’t last long with my new brother-in-law.
“Fine,” Aleksy says, jabbing a finger in my direction. “That’s the only fucking change.”
I shoot him a cocky smile. “Pleasure doing business, Aleksy.”
He opens the door and stalks out of the room with a huff.
Lev follows him. A few seconds later, Julian, Damien, Antonio, and I do the same.
I almost instructed him to pass my note to Liliya, but I don’t trust him not to open it. When I return to the nave, I spot their mother sitting nervously in the pew. Liliya is nowhere to be seen.
I step closer, sliding my hand into my pocket, and pull out my note.
“Give this to Liliya,” I tell her. “You open it, I’ll chop your fucking fingers off.”
“Excuse me—”
I talk over her. “You played Switch It with the wrong man. Now, you play by my rules.”