3. -2-
Nina
The expansive floor-to-ceiling windows in my father’s Manhattan office provided a magnificent view of Central Park, but my eyes were set on the stunning glass tower in the distance.
The Starlight building was the work of the best architect in the United States and gloriously combined a modern design with classy elegance.
During the day, it looked like it danced, depending on the angle of the sun’s rays falling on the glass. At night, it shone like the brightest star. Tourists called it the heart of Manhattan because its energy illuminated the streets and gave them life.
For me, though, it was a lighthouse of hope. On Friday, four never-ending days from now, Dorian Zhumagulov planned to throw an afterparty in the Starlight casino after the grand opening of his new hospital. Hopefully Lucas could find a way to get us inside.
Sighing, I turned to Dad’s desk, my eyes automatically falling on the paperwork spread all over the surface. I spent countless days going through numbers with Grandpa, but Dad kept me away. It wasn’t my job, he said, but one look couldn’t hurt, right?
One look turned into a whole inspection.
I reviewed the numbers and accounts and quickly noticed irregularities Dad missed.
One of our associates was constantly late with payments, which caused trouble with sending money to our other contractors.
The schedule was outdated, set years ago and never adjusted to the current situation.
With a smile, I called the lead accountant, instructed her to make changes, and asked her to send me the updates. That should fix the problem.
The sound of the door made me raise my head from the paper.
“I’m glad you joined us, sweetheart,” Dad said, smiling.
I closed the file, my lips turning into a snarl as my eyes collided with Sonny’s pretentious face.
“Why is this one here?” I asked, motioning at Sonny.
His eyebrows shot up. Treating him with disrespect was dangerous, but if I managed to show my dad his true colors, it could change my fate.
“This one is your future husband, Nina,” Sonny said in a controlled voice, but a furious tornado swirled in his light blue eyes.
He stood beside my father, tall and dressed in an expensive grey suit, his nut-brown hair perfectly styled as if he were starring in a gangster movie.
This was a man who could have any woman he wanted.
However, I knew what was hidden behind the facade of a well-mannered gentleman—a sadistic psychopath with his gaze locked on me.
“I never agreed to marry you, Sonny,” I retorted, noticing the tic in his cleanly shaved jaw and his fist clenching.
“It’s because women don’t have a say in the men’s business,” he fired, taking a step closer to me. I raised a brow, opening my mouth to provoke him more, to snap, but I barely inhaled before Dad interjected.
“You’re not even married yet, and you already argue like an old married couple,” he joked, walking around his desk. He motioned for Sonny to take a seat opposite him while giving me a shut-up look.
My lips pressed into a thin line, and I refused to obey and sit beside the lunatic who glared at me like he wished to bury me six feet under. Instead, I stood behind Dad, staring daggers at Sonny to make him understand I wasn’t afraid of him anymore.
“Your father and I have arranged a dinner to discuss the details on Thursday, Sonny,” Dad interrupted our deadly staring contest, oblivious to the silent war between us.
My stomach twisted with panic and disgust when Sonny’s lips curled into a victorious, arrogant smirk.
“That’s terrific news.” He leaned into his seat, confidence radiating from him on all sides. “I’ll join you two after my squash practice. Uncle Ray will gladly help you with Zyon’s little problem.”
“What problem?” I asked, my curiosity spiking. If I knew what the king needed, perhaps I could find a solution for us both. Sonny’s uncle couldn’t be the only man on earth with the power to help him.
“That’s not—” Sonny barked, flashing me another glare, but Dad shut him up with a mere raise of his right hand.
“Nina deserves to know why I want her to marry you,” he stated firmly, turning in his office chair to me. “Zyon’s youngest brother, Ramzan, is in a Russian prison. Sonny’s uncle is a diplomat in Russia and has connections to a judge who can make some arrangements.”
My eyes widened in surprise. I expected many things, but not this.
Ramzan Zhumagulov was like a ghost. The news and my life were filled only with information about the triplets.
Zyon was the calm force. Malin was the bloodthirsty monster, or the cleaner, as my father called him.
And Dorian was the charmer. Together, they were like hell’s trinity—indestructible, invincible, unstoppable.
Whatever it meant, whatever the consequences, they would turn us all to fucking ashes if someone touched them. Precisely as they did with the Italian Five Families. They restored their rule and forced us to our knees, not from respect but from fear of what they might do if we didn’t obey.
“But why can’t Sonny’s uncle help Zyon without me getting married?” I shot my dad a confused glance.
“Because the meeting between the American diplomat in Russia and Zyon Zhumagulov would turn the political scene upside down,” Sonny interrupted, talking to me in a bored, lecturing tone like I was an incompetent child.
“Zyon has many powerful friends, but they don’t want to be publicly tied to him.
This is a sensitive matter, and it must be solved quietly.
He needs a middleman who can guarantee the best possible result. ”
“You,” I whispered, the pieces finally coming together.
“Yes, Nina,” Dad confirmed. “And you’re involved in it to tie us together. We’ll all sleep better once we’re a family. Zyon will get what he wants, and we can finally start to rebuild our business.”
Dad’s words rang in my ears even an hour after the meeting.
I stormed out of his office shortly after the clarification, hurrying back into our house so Sonny wouldn’t find me wandering around.
I didn’t want to meet him alone. Who knew what his sick mind planned to do to me in retribution for my obvious disrespect?
“Judging by the amount of mascara on your pillow, I’d say the meeting went well?” Lucas said when he found me curled into a ball in my bed. He quickly climbed beside me and hugged me tightly.
“You have no idea,” I sobbed. “Their game is completely out of my league. I have no way out if I don’t want to sign Dad’s death sentence.”
He pressed a kiss to my forehead, brushing his fingers through my hair.
“Would Zyon really kill him?” A frown formed between his elegant eyebrows.
“I don’t want to risk it,” I whispered, pulling away and wiping my tears.
“Why don’t you tell the truth then?”
“What truth?” I breathed.
“That Sonny not only bullied you and called you nasty names, but beat you as well,” he answered, snatching my hand when I flinched in shock. I never told a soul about that accident. No one knew who attacked me that night.
“Nina, I may be pretty, but I’m not stupid.” Lucas rolled his eyes exasperatedly. “I knew there had to be more than a dream about true love behind your resentment of the marriage. You’ve been part of this family long enough to understand it can happen anytime.”
A shaky exhale left my lips as I tried to gather my thoughts into meaningful words. Yet the answer to Lucas’s question was plain and simple.
“Dad would think I made the story up to avoid the marriage,” I admitted eventually. “And with the information about what Zyon wants from the Carliles, I don’t have a choice. No other family has a diplomat in Russia.”
“That’s unfortunate,” Lucas grimaced, biting his lower lip. “So, you’ll marry Sonny? Despite all he’s done?” He cast me a doubtful look, his gaze following me when I sat up and hugged my knees.
“What else can I do?” I mumbled, resting my cheek against my knee.
My head hurt as if someone had hit me with a shovel, and my eyes stung. I either had to accept my poor fate or fight until my last breath. I knew I would go with the second option, but fuck, my mind was blank. I had no plan, no idea how to avoid this fucking disaster.
“This.” Lucas slipped a white envelope under my hand, prompting me to open it when I shot him a hesitant glance. Slowly, I did, and pulled out a beautiful invitation written in golden letters.
Dear Mr. Colapino,
Please join us for an exclusive After-Party following the Grand Opening of the Sovereign Medical Center. Enjoy an evening of good food, drinks, music, and great company as we toast to a new beginning in healthcare excellence.
I blinked at the signature at the bottom, my heart missing a beat.
I spent the past week learning everything possible about the man who signed this, and my hand slightly trembled when I traced his name with my fingertips.
I was becoming obsessed with a guy sixteen years older than me, who seemed to be the only person capable of saving me.
“Where did you get it?” I whispered, clutching the piece of expensive paper as if it were my lifeline.
“I stole it and put my name on it,” Lucas answered nonchalantly, earning a roll of eyes from me.
“Be serious,” I whined, holding the envelope close to my heart. “Whose invitation is it?”
“Ours.” He grinned. “Did you honestly think I’d let you stalk Dorian Zhumagulov alone? Haven’t you seen him?”
A soft laugh escaped me when he tossed himself on the bed with a dreamy expression.
“I love you.” I lay on his chest, unable to put into words the gratitude I felt.
“I love you, too,” he whispered, soothingly patting my back. “We’ll get through this. I promise.”
And I believed him. I wasn’t a person who gave up easily. I had my moment of weakness, but it was long forgotten. On Friday, I would meet Dorian Zhumagulov, and he wouldn’t be able to escape me. If I had to ruin my life with marriage, I would at least ruin it my way.