1. Tatiana
1
TATIANA
H ow did we get here? I feel as though I could vomit as I stand helplessly in the courtyard of Lucian Agosti’s luxurious compound, the muzzle of his gun pressed to my sister’s temple. I never should have agreed to let Natasha come here. I should have known that the man who killed my father would be despicable enough to take her captive—to hold my sister hostage.
Since that horrific night when Lucian’s men gunned down my parents at our family’s charity event, he’s done nothing but rip my world apart. And once again, he holds the fate of the person I hold most dear in his hands. While he makes jokes.
“You don’t mind if I call you Tatiana do you?” he asks, his hazel eyes dancing as they find mine.
“You can call me whatever the hell you want,” I growl, “so long as you get that gun out of my sister’s face .”
He hums with amusement, his proud features feigning a thoughtful look. “Funny you should say it like that, because what I would love most to call you right about now is wife .”
My stomach drops, my blood running cold at the horrifying thought, and a gasp escapes my lips before I can compose myself. How could he possibly think I would marry him after everything he’s done?
Flashes of my father’s final moments burst into brilliant relief behind my mind’s eye. All that blood… It turns my skin to ice. Don Lucian Agosti murdered my father brutally and without hesitation. And for what? My father’s territory? I’ll never give it to him. I would rather die.
Then again, with my sister’s life on the line, I would do just about anything to protect her. What is the price of an unhappy marriage compared to watching my sister die? I’ve already watched Lucian kill both my parents. He won’t take Natasha from me too. No matter what I have to sacrifice. Still, my skin crawls with the thought of tying myself to the man I hate more than anyone in the world.
“So, what do you say, Tatiana?” he prods, his eyes greedy with the look of a man who knows he has me cornered and is about to get exactly what he wants. “Marry me. Today. And before you say a hasty no, just think of it. We could form a lasting alliance between our two great families. Any sons you bear me will rule over both our territories when they come of age. Hell, I’ll even agree to leave you in charge of the Sokolov men for as long as you desire. The rest of our lives if that’s what you want.”
That proposal almost sounds…reasonable. If Lucian hadn’t already dragged our feuding empires into an all-out war. I know my father never would have approved of the arrangement—he didn’t believe in bartering his daughters to strengthen ties with other families. But if it will save my sister’s life and stop the abhorrent bloodshed that makes me queasy every time I think about it, then isn’t it my responsibility as pakhansha to protect the men of my Bratva? “You…don’t want to rule my territory yourself?”
“Well, of course I do,” Lucian says coyly, his sculpted lips curling into a beautiful sneer, and it pisses me off to realize that, as much as I hate him, I can’t deny he’s one of the most gorgeous men I’ve ever met. “But that’s why it’s called a compromise . Now, that’s a pretty generous offer—if I do say so myself. But know, this marriage will be a contractual alliance, one you will be agreeing to in front of all your men and mine—and the Kings, for that matter. So, I would recommend you take a moment to seriously consider it before you give your answer.”
Another pregnant pause settles over the battlefield as my emotions wage war inside me. I’m not one of those self-sacrificing types. Typically, I prefer strategy to noble martyrdom. If I think long and hard enough, I can find a way around my enemies’ plots. But Natasha has been my family’s ace in the hole for as long as I’ve been concocting strategies. She’s our faceless assassin, our inside man who can take out any bastard who thinks he has the upper hand, and now Lucian’s threatening to expose her to the world. If anyone found out who she really is, it wouldn’t just destroy my sister. It would most definitely get her killed—in the most brutal fashion.
As if he can read my thoughts, Lucian adds, “If you won’t accept my conditions, just remember, I do fully intend to hand the lovely Mrs. King here over to the families she’s wronged over the years. Who knows, maybe I’ll set up an auction and give her to the highest bidder. I bet she’d go for an impressive price. Then I’ll let you watch as they tear her apart. And you and I will both know that you could have done something to stop it—if only you could have set aside your pride and looked at what’s best for your people.”
“I’ll do it,” I state, the answer jumping from my lips without hesitation. “I’ll marry you.” It rips my heart out to think of letting anyone touch my sister, and though I know it’s going to land me in a lifetime of misery, married to a man I loathe, I would rather suffer that fate than watch another person I love die. I can’t do it. I’m just not strong enough.
I can see Natasha’s look of horror, and I try not to think of what she must make of my decision. She’s always been the brave one, the first one to put herself and her safety on the line for our family. I always hoped that, if it came down to it, I would be strong enough to do the same. I just can’t believe that of all the ways I might sacrifice myself, this is how I have to do it. Giving myself willingly to the coldest villain New York has ever seen.
“Today?” Lucian presses.
“Today,” I agree, my throat tight, my heart pounding.
“Ti, no,” Natasha pleads, trying to take a step forward.
I can see the remorse in her eyes. She feels responsible for what’s happening, but she’s not. I’m the one who let her sneak onto Lucian’s compound. I’m the one who allowed her to walk straight into a trap, and I won’t let her suffer the consequences for my poor judgment. Killian was right. I never should have granted her permission to go in alone. Now, I have to face the consequences of my miscalculation because that’s what a true pakhansha should do. That’s what my father would have expected of me.
“Done,” Lucian says, bringing a ringing sense of finality to the negotiations. “Why don’t you come untie your sister, then? And you and I can head to the church together?”
The church? He can’t possibly intend to marry me today? Now? Could he? But I can’t back out of the agreement. Not without jeopardizing Natasha’s safety. So, chin held high, I stalk coolly up the gravel drive and climb the terrace steps. All the while, I feel as though I’m walking willingly toward my death.
The only thing keeping me on my feet is the hope that Natasha will be safe.
And when the deed is done, I will kill Lucian myself.
I’ve never taken a man’s life before. I abhor the sight of blood. But I don’t know how else to live with my decision. I’ll kill Lucian Agosti if it’s the last thing I do.
“Ti, please,” Natasha whispers as I climb the final step. “Go back. It’s not too late. Nothing is worth that sacrifice.”
With a soft smile, I stop in front of my sister and reach down to untie her bindings. “You are,” I promise. I would do anything for Natasha. I love her more than anyone else on this planet, and with our parents dead and gone, it’s my responsibility to protect her.
I know my sister thinks she’s the strong one. But I won’t let her die. If Lucian’s right about one thing, it’s that my pride is not worth her life. My pride isn’t worth anyone’s life. Not my sister’s, not the Sokolov men under my protection.
“And so are all the men Father entrusted to my care,” I add. “If this is what it takes to keep you all safe, then this is what I’ll do.”
Natasha’s restraints fall to the ground, and she throws her arms around my shoulders, pulling me close as she bites back a sob. I swallow the painful lump in my throat as I give her a gentle squeeze before pulling back. Then I cup my younger sister’s chin in my hand. “Go to your husband, sister.”
“I love you,” Natasha murmurs. She squares her shoulders, and her feet pick up their pace as she races down the steps.
Her new Irish husband rushes forward to meet her, sweeping her into his embrace, and only then does the icy fist around my chest relax. My sister’s safe. Killian will protect her, and he damn well better continue to cherish her if I can’t be around to make sure of it.
“Killian,” I say, lifting my voice commandingly. “You be good to her.”
Killian King gives me one solemn nod, the look of gratitude in his eyes reassuring me that his feelings for Natasha run so deep, I will never need to worry about her in his care.
My men, on the other hand, need a leader to protect them. To give them the order that will stop this bloodshed and save their lives. I only hope they won’t mutiny against me for my choice. I know Bratva men hate weakness, and surrendering to the enemy is about as cowardly as it gets in their eyes.
We came today to take back my sister and destroy Lucian, and now I’m willingly conceding to his authority to stop any more of my men from dying. I was already clinging to my new reign by a thread. This might be the straw that breaks the camel’s back. After today, I might not have an army to rule—even if Lucian is willing to let me keep my title.
Heart hammering against my ribcage, I command authoritatively, “ Muzhchiny, idite domoy, ” telling my men to go home.
And to my intense relief, as one, the Sokolov men gather our dead, hoisting them in our vehicles before they depart. The Irish Kings follow, and as the driveway empties, I finally feel like I can breathe again. No matter what happens to me now, I’ve done all I can to protect the people I swore to lead and defend.
“Come, principessa ,” Lucian says smoothly beside me, offering his elbow like a gentleman—though we both know he’s about as far from that as a man can get. “Let’s find you a suitable wedding dress.”
Icy horror grips my chest at his words. I feel the bars of my prison closing in around my freedom. This is the fate my father worked so hard to avoid. He didn’t want his daughters trapped in a loveless marriage. Hell, I’m pretty sure my father would have preferred if neither of us ever married—because he didn’t believe any man was worthy of us.
But I trust that Natasha loves Killian, and even if he doesn’t deserve her, I know my sister’s new husband would do anything to make her happy. That will have to be enough. I suppose in our world, if one good marriage comes out of a family, it’s better than most Bratva daughters can hope for.
And even if my marriage is miserable, I won’t lose the empire my father poured all his blood, sweat, and tears into building what it is today.
Cool air washes over me as Lucian guides me into the luxurious mansion occupying the vast majority of the compound’s acreage. I’m stunned by the beautiful, rustic classic Italian decor of his grand home. Exposed wood beams extend across the vaulted ceilings, with cream-colored walls and terra-cotta floors. Rather than doors, massive archways connect each room, creating a smooth, flowing feel to the elegant space. I’ve never been to Italy, but I imagine this is exactly how it would feel to step inside some Roman palace or Florentine estate.
My feet hesitate as I take in the beautiful entry, and I can tell Lucian observes my unquenchable awe by the way he pauses to smirk at me.
“Not what you were expecting?” he teases lightly.
“Honestly, I was picturing dungeons and torture chambers to go along with your black heart,” I state scathingly.
Lucian gives a low chuckle, and the deep sound of his amusement vibrates through my bones, raising the hair on the nape of my neck at the same time as it makes my stomach coil with a strange warmth.
It’s unfathomable that a man as cruel as my soon-to-be husband could be so dangerously enticing. I’ve never stood this close to him before, and I find it deeply unsettling that I like the way he smells. The soft, clean scent of lemon and vetiver surrounds him, and when I breathe deeply, a shiver races up my spine.
He guides me up the sweeping stairwell, my heels rapping sharply with each step. As I march to my doom, I can’t help but notice how peaceful the house is—mere minutes after a firefight. No one’s in a panic. The few guards that pass give me a respectful nod.
Lucian opens the wide double doors to a bedroom, and my heart jolts as soon as my eyes land on the bed. But my momentary flash of fear—that he might have other intentions than a wedding right now—is quickly squashed.
“These should all be in your size,” he says, gesturing to a rack of couture wedding dresses all tucked safely inside designer garment bags. His eyes skim down my body appreciatively. Then they flick back up to my face. “Gabriella will help you try them on. If any need alterations, she’ll do that as well.”
“You’re really going to insist we marry today? Why even bother with the wedding dress then?” I demand. “It’s not like my friends or family will be there, and I doubt you have anyone you could truthfully call a friend.” The snide remark is out of my mouth before I can think better of it—before I can consider how wise it is to be insulting Lucian when I have no real means to protect myself, no one to help me.
But rather than seeming angry, or even insulted by the remark, Lucian actually laughs. “You know, you might be right. But people in our position don’t really have the luxury of friends, do we? I will have an audience for us, though. Anyone who’s anyone will be here for the ceremony I have planned, and if you’d like, I’m happy to call your sister back to attend.”
“No,” I say sharply. I don’t want Natasha anywhere near Lucian ever again. Definitely not so she can attend this farce of a wedding. But then Lucian’s words really start to sink in. “You already sent out invitations? You planned for this wedding today?”
A wicked glint lights Lucian’s captivating hazel-gray eyes. “Took you long enough,” he teases.
“This is how you intended for things to go all along,” I realize, my stomach plummeting. “You knew I would agree to marry you to save my sister’s life.”
“I knew,” he confirms, turning to face me as I take a half step back.
“How long have you been planning this?” I ask, icy understanding trickling through my veins.
“Since the day your father refused to consider my proposal,” he murmurs, stepping close to hook a finger under my chin.
And I can scarcely breathe as he lifts my face so our lips are mere inches apart.
“What proposal?” I breathe, terrified that I already know.
“Poor Tatiana,” Lucian says, his voice laced with dark pleasure. “Don’t you even know? All this bloodshed, all this death could easily have been avoided if your father simply would have agreed to let me marry you from the start.”