Chapter 9 #3
Sister. He used to call me that once, when I was a girl. It was a pet name, one I cherished until I got older and realized what kind of monster he is.
“I wanted to talk with you,” I say hesitantly, leaning against a wall of kitchen cabinets for support.
I’m not sure how this is going to go.
“Ah.” He drags out the word, making a show of drying his busted knuckles on a dish towel. “This has something to do with the visit from Scorpion Andriani, no?”
I’m not surprised he knew Scorpion came to see me. He’s probably got cameras hidden everywhere, and his security detail would have told him if Yana hadn’t.
“He brought me a contract,” I say instead of answering him directly.
“Marriage contract, yes.” He opens the freezer and reaches for a bottle of vodka. “What about it?”
“There’s a particular section of concern.”
I don’t want to tell him I’m infuriated by the way he has mapped out and sold off every aspect of my life from now until I die.
The contract was so disgusting and infuriating, I had to stop reading it because I couldn’t take in more.
But making Misha angry won’t get me anywhere. So I’m trying to phrase it gently.
He retrieves a glass and fills it with the vodka. “Which part?”
I take a deep breath and then blurt it out. “Why do you want me to have a child with Andriani?”
Misha sips his vodka. “Collateral.”
That’s what I was afraid of, even if I am deeply disturbed by the fact that my brother is willing to use any child of mine, his niece or nephew, as a bargaining chip against the Mafia.
“You’d use a baby, Misha?”
He takes another calm sip, unperturbed. “Blood of their blood.”
I want to smack him, but I know I can’t risk inciting his wrath.
“You can’t believe I’d allow you to use any child of mine like that.”
“Do what I ask you to do, and you’ll be rewarded.” He lifts the glass back to his mouth calmly.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“It means that I need to make them think I’m remorseful. Marrying my sister to an Andriani and making sure she gives him a child will go a long way toward that.”
“Make them think you’re remorseful,” I repeat. “About blowing up their restaurant, you mean?”
Misha tsks. “Sestrenka, you believe their lies about me?”
“I don’t know what to believe. Andriani told me you planted a bomb in their restaurant.”
“I didn’t plant anything.” He shrugs. “Must have been someone else. This city is filled with Andriani enemies.”
“He said that a Russian handcuffed his brother’s girlfriend to the bed. He thinks it was Dmitri.”
“It may have been.” Misha finishes his vodka. “I wouldn’t know. I’m not my brother’s keeper.”
“He follows your orders now. If Dmitri is the one who did it, then it’s because you told him to.”
With Misha the new Pakhan, Dmitri has no choice, even if he wants to do the opposite. Misha says jump, and Dmitri asks how high. That’s the way it works, or Misha will remove Dmitri the same way he did the old Pakhan.
Misha sets his glass down on the marble counter with a clink. “Katya, Katya. I begin to wonder whose side you’re on. I don’t like to have to question loyalty. It makes me feel…unsettled. And when I’m unsettled, do you know what happens?”
I swallow hard, afraid to play his game and also afraid not to. “What happens?”
He slowly unscrews the lid from the vodka bottle. “People die.”
Then he calmly pours himself another drink as a chill goes down my spine.
“You know I’m loyal to you, Misha,” I force out, understanding exactly who and what he’s threatening.
Not just Svetlana, but me too. He’ll kill us both if I make the wrong move. I understand what I have to do until I can find a way out of this mess. I have to go along with everything Misha says like it was my idea and I can’t wait to marry a stranger and start popping out his offspring.
“Then prove it to me, sestrenka.” Misha goes to the cupboard and gets another glass out, placing it alongside his. “Marry Andriani like I’ve asked you to do. Give him a kid or two. Women love to have children. It is only natural, da?”
He splashes an ample amount of vodka in each one before he sets the bottle back down and calmly screws on the lid while I bite my tongue to keep from arguing.
I don’t know if Misha is being serious and believes the misogynistic shit he’s spewing, or if he’s goading me, playing with me and pushing me to see how far he can go before I’ll break.
Misha holds out the fresh glass he’s poured for me to take. “Here, sestrenka. For you.”
I don’t want the vodka any more than I want to marry Scorpion or have anything to do with my brothers or the Bratva or give up everything I’ve worked for my entire life to be a Mafia housewife.
But I also don’t have a choice, so I accept it, the glass cold against my fingertips from the chilled vodka.
A new shiver goes down my spine. “Thank you.”
“I can count on you, can’t I, Katya?”
“I’ll do whatever you need me to do,” I force out.
Misha lifts his glass to me in cheers. “That’s what I like to hear. Za lyubov.”
To love.
I hold my glass up. “Za lyubov.”
Then I take a sip of the cold liquid, feeling it burn all the way down.