Chapter 4 - Alisa
Of all the ways I had imagined my married future, calling Dante Lebedev husband wasn’t one of them.
Yet here I was, three days in as his wife, walking around the place like it was mine.
I stepped into the dining room to grab myself some breakfast and immediately froze.
What the hell? I thought he’d have left for work already. But as they say, god has a funny sense of humor.
Because Dante sat at the head of that ridiculous mile-long table, reading a newspaper while sipping his coffee like he didn’t have a care in the world. Which, of course, he didn’t. Men like him made their problems belong to the world, not the other way around.
Three days of marriage, and I still couldn’t believe this was my life now.
I turned on my heel with the intention of getting out of here before he noticed me.
“I don’t bite,” I heard him say. “Unless you ask nicely.”
I turned and crossed my arms in front of me, giving him a pointed glare. “Funny, I thought sharks did their biting without permission.”
“Remind me what kind of sound a shark makes again?” He cocked his head at me.
“I couldn’t say,” I said coolly, then nodded at the vase in front of him. “But maybe if I dunked your head in that, you’d get a taste of what home really feels like.”
He held back a smile as he rose. “The breakfast is good. Stay.”
“No thanks, I’ll eat in my room.” I shook my head as he started to walk toward me. “I’m still training myself to stomach food in the presence of the Russian mob.”
He reached closer, and closer, and closer. So close, in fact, that I remembered thinking I should step back and walk out of here, but I stood frozen like a sculpture.
I didn’t know why, but Dante always brought me to a standstill, waiting to see what he’d do or say next.
And then, he was right in front of me, so close that I had to look up to keep my eyes on his face. He smelt different, I remembered thinking. Probably bought himself expensive shampoo now.
“Stay,” he said again, leaning down to whisper a little too close in my ear. “I’m leaving anyway.”
And just as my heart started to race, he slowly brushed past me, his shoulder grazing against mine, even though there was plenty of room to leave a gap. “Work calls. The dining room is all yours.”
I stood there, trying not to tremble from how good that touch felt.
Was I going crazy?
No, I told myself. While I remembered how things ended, my body only remembered what it missed.
Traitorous little thing.
I took a seat at the table, and my hands still trembled when I poured myself a coffee. I grabbed a croissant and chewed slowly, scolding myself for forgetting why I’d agreed to this shebang in the first place.
Protection, my ass.
My father was the goddamn Federal Prosecutor. If I’d gone back to him and told him I’d been kidnapped and sold, I knew he would’ve found a way to protect me. And could anyone blame me for wanting to do the same for my father?
I couldn’t stop replaying that conversation in his office, the one where I overheard him cutting deals with criminals. There had to be a reason.
Maybe they were threatening him.
Maybe they had something on him.
Whatever it was, I needed to find out how this world worked and find something useful to help my father. I knew being married to Dante Lebedev, as insane as it was, might be my only chance to gather enough information to help my father break free.
Hopefully, I’d find something to help Papa put those dirty men he’d been forced to negotiate with exactly where they belonged: behind bars.
I was running out of time here. Was Papa looking for me? Did he even know I was missing? He must be worried sick. Three days in this house, and I was no closer to helping my father than when I started.
By now, I’d figured out my way around the house and had a decent grasp of Dante’s schedule. He’d be gone for hours at a time, and that day felt as good as any to finally start digging.
By the time I finished breakfast, the house was empty except for the kitchen staff, who rarely ventured out of their area.
This was my chance.
I went up to Dante’s home office first. I knew this was dangerous because if anyone caught me there, I couldn’t exactly say I got lost on the way to the bathroom.
But it was also the one place where I knew I’d learn the most, so it was a risk well-taken.
I tried the door, and holy moly, it actually opened. I glanced left and right one last time to make sure I was truly alone, then stepped inside and closed the door quietly behind me.
For a moment, I just stopped to take the room in. His office was the most office-like office I’d ever seen; Tasteful, beautiful, and rich in its entirety.
There was wall-to-wall carpeting, a small bar and lounge area in one corner, deep red maroon on all the leather couches, and the largest, most beautiful mahogany desk I’d ever seen. And the best part was the rows upon rows of books lining the walls. Some leather-bound. Most not.
I ran my fingers along the spines, hoping for a clue. In the movies, books conceal things. I lifted a few off the shelf, but found nothing in or behind.
I moved on, checking drawers, cabinets, and any other potential storage areas. In a cabinet beneath a window, I found photo albums. One was filled with family pictures. Dante as a child with his parents and siblings.
I felt a chill go down my spine at how normal they looked as a family. Run-of-the-mill. Nothing screamed criminal empire.
Behind the photo albums was a stack of folders. Bingo.
I pulled them out and started sifting through. Most were in Russian, but some had English translations. I saw organizational charts, business plans, and even some financial reports for a couple of casinos.
What struck me first was how… legitimate it all looked, like any corporation’s paperwork, ranging from information on construction companies to nightclubs to import businesses.
These had to be fronts, right? Nothing about these businesses seemed illegal.
I dug deeper and found something more interesting. A document outlining the structure of what it called “the organization.”
The Pakhan was the boss. Below him were advisors, the Sovietnik. Then came the Brigadiers, who ran different operations. Under them were the soldiers—the muscle. The enforcers.
Dante’s name appeared near the top. Not the Pakhan, that was his brother, Caspian, but positioned as one of the key Brigadiers.
I felt my hands begin to shake, and my heart turned frantic. Dante wasn’t just a guy in the Bratva. He kept the machine running. The way he owned every room and the way he acted like nothing could touch him suddenly made perfect sense.
I kept flipping through the pages and came across a set of financial records. At first glance, it looked standard. But then I noticed monthly payouts so large that it made my stomach turn. The numbers didn’t just show wealth. They showed reach, control, and influence beyond my wildest imagination.
A few of the names attached to those payments were familiar to me. A city councilman from New York, a media executive, and a federal judge who is on his way to becoming a Supreme Court Justice.
Just how powerful were these people? I made a quick mental note of the names I could for my father. Perhaps, if I managed to take these to him, it could prove useful to him. I lost myself in a little daydream, imagining the look of pride on Papa’s face when I brought him solid information.
My whole life, Papa had held me to the highest standards. Growing up, he was always hard on me. Nothing I did was ever good enough. I used to hate him for that, but now, I wonder if it’s because he simply wanted to push me to reach greater heights.
Just the thought of making him proud set my heart racing with anticipation.
I looked down at the names again.
This was gold… for someone like me. But my father? The Federal prosecutor? He probably knew how the Bratva functioned and needed more.
I was searching through the drawers by Dante’s desk when a distant sound made me freeze. A door closing, followed by footsteps?
Shit.
I quickly returned the folders to their place, making sure everything looked untouched. My heart was hammering so hard, I felt like I couldn’t think straight.
Then I heard some more sounds and knew that someone was definitely in the house.
Oh my god. What if Dante were back early? I completely forgot today was Saturday. What if he had a quick meeting out? What if he were making his way to the office now?
I needed to get out of here as fast as I could. I rushed to the door and peeked out of the keyhole. Only when I saw nothing suspicious did I open the door, just a crack, and peer out.
The hallway to my left and right remained empty, and I held my breath and winced as I stepped outside, closing the door quietly behind me.
And then?
With a frantic heart, I moved slowly down the hall, looking at the art pieces lining the walls, trying to aim for casual. If Dante had come home early and was en route here, I could pretend I was just exploring.
Once I reached the landing of the stairs, I started to panic. What if he saw me and decided to say nothing just then?
Oh my god.
What if he had a camera in his office?
What the hell was I thinking?
And just like that, my brain left the building.
I picked up the pace and ran down the stairs, heading for the back of the house, from where I could run out to someplace that would give me a solid reason for being where I was.
Going out for a walk seemed like the best alibi.
I burst through the back doors onto the patio, grateful for the air. And only when I caught my breath did I realize I wasn’t alone.
Water splashed. Droplets caught sunlight like diamonds.
Because there, cutting through the crystal-blue water of the infinity pool, was Dante.
I froze, watching as he curved a strong arm over his head, the muscles on his shoulders screaming with a life of their own.
I stood transfixed, unable to look away, unable to move.
He reached the end of the pool and turned, finally spotting me. For a second, he just treaded water with his eyes on mine.
And even from a distance, I could see how beautiful his eyes were. Out here, in the pool, with the trees overcast, Dante looked feral.
Then he pulled himself out of the pool.
Holy mother of—
What business did he have looking so good? The water beaded down his body, drawing my sight to places it shouldn’t register: the nape of his neck, the cuts of his abs, the gleaming V leading into his trunks.
The tattoos looked darker against his skin, shining black in the sunlight. His perfect hair was slicked back, making his jaw look even sharper, his cheekbones more defined.
He grabbed a towel from a nearby chair and ran it over his face, giving me a moment to compose myself. I took that time to remind myself that I hated him, he’d broken my heart, and he was the prince of criminals.
Not to forget, I was currently trying to spy on him to make my father proud.
“Enjoying the view?” he asked, one lip curling over as he bit into it with amusement.
“I’ve seen better,” I lied, crossing my arms.
He laughed. “No, you haven’t.”
I hated that he was right.
“What are you doing at home?” I tried to act casual. “I thought you had work.”
“Meeting got canceled.” He wrapped the towel around his waist, and I swear I didn’t know a man could have edges like that. “Thought I’d catch a swim before heading back in.”
“Well, don’t let me interrupt your busy schedule of… whatever it is you do.” My voice came out all wrong. I turned away before he saw me turn red.
“Have dinner with me tonight,” he said, stopping me in my tracks.
I looked back at him over my shoulder. “What?”
“Dinner. You and me?” He pointed at us.
That same traitorous part from this morning wanted to say yes, but I shut her down then and there.
“Over my dead body.” I rolled my eyes and turned to walk away.
I heard him chuckle and frowned. How dare he be amused when I just turned him down?
That cocky bastard.