Chapter 4
Viktor~
I stared at my father, not quite believing what I was hearing.
The very idea that the Germans, Romanians, and the Chinese were conspiring to take over was, at the very least, insulting as hell.
Even if the alliance gave them the numbers, they still didn’t have the skills or firepower to end both the Korolevs and the Marchettis.
At least, I didn’t think that they did.
“It also has to be you because the others would never believe the alliance to be true if Marchetti were to marry off his only daughter to a Korolev second-son,” my father went on. “Which is understandable.”
“And Aurora Marchetti has already agreed to this?” I asked, hardly believing that she would. I mean, why would she?”
“I am not certain,” he answered. “Roman is to speak with her today.”
“And if she says no?” I posed.
“Then we go to war,” he replied easily, always ready for a reason to spill blood, and he and Kasimir were very much alike in that way.
Now, while he’d said it as if it were no big deal, I knew my father well enough to know that he’d rather die fighting than ever surrender to the enemy. Even if we lost everything, to him, it’d be worth it as long as he could say that we hadn’t given in.
“And how would all this work?” I asked, already knowing my answer.
My father shot me a look. “Razve vy ne znayete, kak ustroyen brak?”
I shot him a look of my own. “Of course, I know how marriage works.”
He smirked, and he really was an asshole most of the time. “Then I don’t understand the question, son.”
“Does she become bratva business, or do I allow her to continue working for her father?” I asked. “The devil is in the details, so I need to know if we’ll be married in name-only. After all, the enemy is still the enemy, even if she’s wearing my ring on her finger.”
“It was agreed upon that we’d leave those details left up to the newlyweds,” he remarked flippantly. “If you feel that she can be trusted to keep working for her father, then I see no reason why she cannot. Of course, it goes without saying that bratva secrets will remain bratva secrets.”
Truth be told, even if I weren’t about to marry a Mafia princess, discussing bratva business with my wife would never be an option.
Females weren’t part of the Russian hierarchy, and so they had the luxury of being able to live in ignorant bliss.
They did their duty by producing heirs, and then they just went about their business, shopping and doing whatever else the hell they did.
“I can handle my wife,” I assured him.
My father arched a brow. “So, is that a yes?”
I leaned forward in my seat, regarding my father carefully as he sat behind his desk. “Contrary to what you may believe, I know you, Pakhan. There is no way that you’d ever consider getting into bed with the Italians unless it was absolutely necessary.”
He just grinned. “Which is why you’re our Sovietnik.”
I dropped back in my seat, not appreciating his games.
After all, my entire life was about to change.
Sure, business would continue as usual, but my private life was never going to be the same after this.
I was going to have a wife that I hadn’t been expecting, and she was going to be Mafia royalty, something that I sure as hell hadn’t ever seen coming.
Nevertheless, the biggest challenge for everyone was going to be accepting an Italian woman in bratva leadership.
As my wife, Aurora Marchetti was going to be in a position of power, whether or not she wanted to be.
It also didn’t matter if she knew anything significant about our business dealings or not, she’d be the Korolev Sovietnik’s wife, and so that would put a huge target on her back from both our associates and our enemies.
So, I could only hope that Aurora Marchetti wasn’t the smelling salt type.
My future wife’s looks were also going to be another problem.
Though I’d never met the woman in person, the research into our enemies had produced enough pictures of her for me to know that she was quite a bit beyond beautiful.
In fact, she was the epitome of a sultry brunette, and it was said that she feared little, thanks to how her brothers guarded her with their lives.
Of course, that part was just a rumor, but it was an easy one to believe.
Traditionally, Italians were very protective of their women, and so it stood to reason that Aurora Marchetti would be well taken care of.
Eyeing my father, I asked, “And what if it doesn’t work? What if the others continue with their plan to take over?”
“Then we go to war,” he repeated, shrugging casually.
“Do you really trust the Italians to have our backs?”
“When they have just as much to lose as we do? Yes, I do,” he answered, and whatever had been discussed between him and the Marchetti Don, it was clear that my father believed that the man would honor his word.
“I suppose so,” I muttered, my mind working like it always did.
“Still, it wouldn’t hurt if you started your nursery as soon as possible,” he added, and he really was a tyrannical bastard. “Not only would that benefit everyone involved, but it would also help quell any rumors of the romance not being real.”
“Considering that my extracurricular activities are no secret, I seriously doubt that anyone is going to believe that Aurora Marchetti and I have been dating,” I drawled out.
“We’ll call it love at first sight,” he easily replied, an idiotic grin on his face.
“Yeah, because that’s believable,” I deadpanned.
With the grin dropping from his lips, my father regarded me seriously. “Despite how this union has come about, I expect you to treat it as a real marriage, syn.”
Now, while some people might assume that him calling me son was an endearing thing, it wasn’t.
He only called me and my brother son when he was trying to drive a point home.
For the most part, Aleksei Korolev didn’t have an affectionate bone in his body when he was acting as Pakhan, which he was doing now.
“I’m very aware of how serious my vows will be, Pakhan,” I said, letting him know that I saw right through him.
Ignoring that, he said, “While we’re both in this for the greater good, I cannot see Roman Marchetti comfortable with his only daughter being mistreated.”
I straightened my back, my chin going up. “Because you think that there’s a serious chance of her being mistreated?”
“No,” he replied evenly. “I just thought that it was worth remarking on.”
“Well, don’t,” I told him. “I’m thirty-five, not thirteen. I don’t need a lecture on how to treat women, Otets.”
He smirked, knowing that I only called him father when I was being a facetious little shit.
While I had a tremendous amount of respect for my father as Pakhan, I was still his son and knew a side to him that only me, my brother, and my mother were privy to.
I knew the man who used to stay up with us, teaching us about the stars whenever we were sick.
“I will inform Roman of your acquiescence and leave it up to you to let your brother know,” he said, and that gave me pause.
“Why would Kasimir need to know?”
“Because with the others attempting to create an alliance, it would not be wise for all of us to be gathered in one place,” he answered. “So, Kasimir will act as your witness in my stead.”
Now, because nothing would be gained by pointing out how it also wouldn’t be wise for the two Korolev heirs to be gathered in one place, I said nothing.
If my father felt that his life was more important than mine or my brother’s, then nothing that I could say or do would change that.
However, as the Korolev Pakhan, I understood why he would see it that way.
After all, even at the age of sixty-five, my father was still capable of producing more offspring.
Granted, there’d be a lot of safety concerns for my mother, but that’s what surrogates were for.
“And when do I get to meet my new bride?” I asked, getting back to the topic at hand.
“A week from Saturday,” he answered. “On your wedding day.”
“On my wedding day?” I echoed.
“We don’t want to tip off the others by continuously meeting up with the Marchettis,” he explained, and it made sense, even if it was rather...corporate.
“Very well,” I said before standing from my seat. “I’ll make sure that everything is ready before then.”
“I’ve no doubt that you’ll do me proud, Viktor,” he stated unnecessarily.
“Anything for the family, Pakhan,” I replied like a dick.
“Anything for the family, Sovietnik,” he echoed like a man without doubt.