by Brook Wilder
“Promise me you’ll do whatever is necessary to stay alive,” she whispers. “Promise me.”
“I promise,” I reply and hug her. There’s no way I can give up on my plan to get out of this life, not now. If Danya gets in my way, I’ll just have to take him down too. I’m probably going to get myself killed, but if I don’t try, I’ll hate myself forever.
Chapter 5
Danya
I shoot back another shot of whiskey then hold out the glass. Lukas has been keeping me company every day since the deal was made with Joseph Russo. Once my glass is filled, I shoot it back, then chuck the empty glass into the hearth in the study.
“Tell me how you really feel,” Lukas murmurs.
“This is bullshit. How am I supposed to marry her with a straight face after what I’ve done? And what Mikhail is plotting? How?” I take the bottle from Lukas and drink straight from it. In two days, I’m getting married to Stella.
Only it’s not Stella, at least not the girl I knew from five years ago. She’s changed, possibly more than I have. Those green eyes I used to get lost in for hours as she talked and laughed are no longer bright and full of life. Now, they’re cold, just like her father’s. The fearless, sweet Stella has been replaced by a stranger that I’m being forced to marry in order to save her life.
“Why don’t you just tell her the truth?” Lukas asks. “No one said you can’t, right?”
“How will that make it better?”
He shrugs. “She has a reason for marrying you then.”
He has a point, but I can’t see that conversation turning out for the best. If she does find out the truth, she’ll be furious at what Mikhail’s planning. If she is more loyal to her father now, she could turn against me. The Russo family might be on the decline, but they have plenty of men to make a takeover difficult and bloody. Stella could wind up dead in the process.
“I can’t. She has no reason to believe me or trust me.”
“Then make her.” Lukas glances toward the study doors, but they’re closed. There’s no one in the house right now anyway. I ordered the guards to remain outside. Having them in the house left me with the eerie feeling that Mikhail would overhear anything I said about him. “You and I both know you hate this shit. Show her the truth. Show her you’re the same Danya.”
“But I’m not. That’s the issue. We’ve changed.”
“You’re honestly going to tell me you didn’t sense a hint of the old Stella in there anywhere?”
“Not like I took the time to speak to her.”
“Wait, you didn’t even talk?” Lukas exclaimed. “What the hell is wrong with you, man? She’s probably even more ticked off because of that.”
I blow out a furious breath. The second she stepped through the study door, any words I had prepared just vanished. It’d been so long since I was that close to her, I forgot how breathtaking she is. Part of me wanted to cross the room, wrap her in my arms, and kiss her until we were both struggling to breathe. The other warned me to keep my distance. This entire wedding deal is a touchy situation that I fear is going to wind up getting her killed. The rest of the family isn’t stupid. Mikhail is pushing me to marry for one reason only. I’ve seen the calculating looks the twins share any time I’m around. They’re plotting a way to take over, I feel it.
I’ll marry Stella, but I’ll keep my distance, not get attached. If everyone believes she means nothing to me, then maybe I can keep her safe.
“So, you’re going to keep her in the dark?” Lukas asks, bringing me back to the current conversation.
“It’s how it is, right?”
“You and I both know you don’t believe in that shit.”
He’s right, again, but I’ve got too many other things on my mind to worry about how the Mafia treats its women. Mikhail has yet to give me a definite date for when we’re going to assassinate De Luca. The men are growing anxious, and so am I. Every plan we’ve come up with ends with far more lives lost than I’m comfortable with.
“You should talk to her before the wedding,” Lukas suggests. “Just some advice from a friend.” He stands and stretches. “I’m off. See you in the morning.”
“Like always.”
Once I’m alone, I walk slowly around the study as memories come unbidden to my mind. Stella’s laughter fills my ears and I shut my eyes, thinking back over our time together. How she would always slip her hand into mine any time we were walking together. Or the time we went from being just friends to something far stronger and deeper.
We were at the lake, walking along the rocky shore. Her black hair blew in the wind as she laughed, searching for smooth rocks as the water lapped around our bare feet. Our cousins and parents were far away, up by one of the estates. The sun was warm on our faces. I can almost feel it again, the memory is so strong. I spun her around so she faced me, then kissed her. It was the first of many we shared, always in secret. She always smelled of autumn. It didn’t matter what time of year it was; she’d walk into a room and we were back at the lake while the leaves turned to vibrant shades of orange and red.
I take another long swig from the whiskey bottle as that memory fades into so many more. As I sink into the armchair in front of the stone hearth, I can’t stop my mind from wandering to the last night we were together. I was nineteen and she was eighteen. My family was away, and I snuck her into my room. We talked all the time about the different lives we could have if we could find a way to escape. They were fanciful daydreams, but then, one day, I realized if we got married, we’d have access to whatever we needed. We could escape. She was so happy at the notion of running off to the West Coast, or another country entirely, that she leaped into my arms. We fell onto the bed in a heap of quiet laughter and tangled limbs.
It was the first and only time I had Stella. Then we were caught, and I had to send her away.
I drain more of the whiskey, cursing Mikhail for everything that happened next. He told me quite plainly Stella wasn’t fit to be my wife. She was from a small family that would do nothing to help ours. I tried to play to his ego, reminding him that we were the most powerful family in the state. Who gave a shit who I married?
It was the first time Mikhail threatened me with Stella’s life. He and my mother decided I would be with someone else. If I didn’t agree, they would remove the temptation from my life. I was terrified they would do it anyway and broke off any contact I had with Stella to keep her safe. If I had told her, she would’ve fought back or convinced me that running was our only option. But they’d come after us, and I couldn’t watch her die. She never got to learn the truth because my speaking to her would have risked her life.
And not marrying her now is risking it all over again, only this time I don’t know who she is.
Maybe Lukas is right. I should at least talk to Stella briefly before we get hitched. It’s partially my fault, I guess, anyway. I sabotaged any other potential wives using bribery and threats to convince the other families I wasn’t the right man for their daughters or nieces, or whoever they threw at me. If I’d given in, Stella wouldn’t be in such dire circumstances again without even realizing it. Then again, Mikhail would still be going through with his takeover plan, and in that scenario, there’s a very large chance Stella would have been killed along with the rest of the Russos.
I swore to stay single so Mikhail could never use a future wife against me. That plan backfired in the worst way possible. Cursing my own stupidity, and letting my hatred for Mikhail grow, I finish off the bottle of whiskey, stagger up to my room, and fall face-first into bed. Tomorrow, I’ll drive to Stella’s home and speak with her. I have no idea what I’m going to say, but I’m sure it’ll come to me in the morning.
Chapter 6
Danya
I spend half the morning talking myself out of going to see Stella and the other half reminding myself that remaining loyal to my father is the only thing keeping Stella and me alive. No matter how much I want to tell the man off for getting me into thi
s situation, the obedient son in me resists. Someone has to take over when Mikhail dies. If it falls to the twins, I hate to think about what the city will become.
When I finally reach the Russo mansion, small compared to the home I reside in, I knock on the front door and wait. An armed man answers and beckons me inside.
“Is Stella around?” I ask. “I want to speak to her for a minute.”
The guard motions to an older woman. She, in turn, takes me to the screened-in porch out back and tells me to wait, Stella will be down in a moment. I shove my hands in my pockets and wonder why I’m not at the training facility. This is a terrible idea. I’m going to make things even worse for both of us.
“Fuck it,” I mumble and make for the door right as Stella appears.
She’s wearing tight jeans, a black T-shirt, and her hair is pulled back in a messy braid. She’s barefoot, which means I have to look down to see into those dark green eyes. I almost forgot how petite she is. The sight of her without being all dolled up hits me like a punch to the gut. For a moment, I catch a glimpse of the old Stella standing in front of me. The longer I stare, the more her gaze softens, and she shifts on her feet, shoving her hands in her butt pockets.
“What are you doing here?” she asks.
“I wanted to talk to you before tomorrow.”
“About what?”
She looks like she wants to say more, but glances over her shoulder. A door slams, and she jumps with a curse. I’m about to ask her why she’s so jumpy when I catch the bruises on her right arm. When she turns back to face me, I see the matching ones on her left arm. I take a step back and really look. Her bottom lip was recently split and when another door closes, she jumps again, wrapping her arms around herself as if that’ll keep her safe.
“What happened?”
Her eyes narrow and she shrugs. “Why do you care?”
“I’m about to be your husband, that’s why.”
“Right, so you can treat me just like all the other men in my life. It’s nothing, I’m fine. Why did you come here?”
I forget exactly what I’d wanted to say in the face of those bruises. Joseph did it to her, probably, because she resisted this entire wedding idea. Maybe the reckless Stella is alive and well after all. If I tell her the truth about this marriage, she’ll do something impulsive like go after Mikhail.
“I wanted to make sure we could come to some sort of understanding,” I say lamely.
“Understanding,” she repeats.
“Yes, about our new arrangement. I understand it might not seem ideal, but it’s the cards we’ve been dealt. I would like this to be a civil agreement. A business deal if you want to call it that.”
Her eyes narrow more as she nods slowly. “You Ivanovs and your deals, it’s all you care about.”
“That is not true,” I argue, and her brow rises.
“Oh, no? You want to tell me how much you’re not going to turn out like Mikhail? Or any other male in this world we got dragged into?” She runs her hands over the bruises covering her arms. If Joseph hoped to scare her into submission, I’m pretty sure he just did the opposite. A determined glimmer appears in her eyes, and I stiffen. “What?”
“I don’t want you to do anything stupid,” I say, then mentally kick myself the second the words are out of my mouth.
“Yep, you know me, stupid Stella. Always screwing up. You know, I’m sorry you’re stuck with me, truly I am. Guess we’re both just going to have to live with disappointment for the rest of our lives. You can thank your father for that. If there’s nothing else, I have to finish packing.”
She turns to go, but I say her name and she stops short of the doorway. “I’m not Mikhail,” I assure her firmly. “And I’m sure as hell not Joseph Russo. No one will ever hurt you again, Stella.”
“Not even you?” she asks without turning around.
“Especially me.”
She scoffs as she glares at me over her shoulder. “Like I’d believe anything that comes out of your mouth. You’re an Ivanov. You might not be your father yet, but one day you will be. I’ll see you tomorrow, Danya.”
Then she’s gone. I see myself out and speed back to the training facility. The wedding is to take place tomorrow evening if it can even be called a wedding. The whole affair should take no more than five minutes, then we’ll be married, and Mikhail’s plans will begin to unfold. Today told me one thing: Stella is certainly the same woman beneath those cold eyes, only worse. Her recklessness won’t just involve us sneaking out at night to be together. Whatever she’s up to can get her killed. That determination has me on edge.
“How’d the talk go?” Lukas asks after I’ve changed and returned to the main training floor in my combat pants and T-shirt. I take my anger out on a punching bag and he whistles. “That good, huh?”
I catch the bag and lean in closer. “Promise me one thing. If anything happens to me, you’ll keep her safe.”
Lukas’ brow furrows. “Swear it, but why are you asking me this?”
“The old Stella is alive and well,” I inform him stiffly. “Only now there’s nothing holding her back. She’s up to something. I think her father beating her up just pushed her enough to cross that line.”
“Seriously?”
“She’s got bruises a few days old. I swore I wouldn’t let anyone hurt her again.”
“And?”
I punch the bag hard a couple of times, then stop when I remember the pain that warred with the mistrust in her final glare. “She doesn’t believe me. She thinks I’m going to be just like Mikhail.”
“Then you’re just going to have to work your ass off to prove her wrong.”
Ever since the night Mikhail forced me to break it off with Stella, I’ve been working on my own plans for which direction to take the family once the time comes. I didn’t expect it to be this soon, or to have Stella back in my life. Until Dad’s out of the picture, I have to bide my time and keep us both alive. Lukas and several others are loyal to me and only me. If I’m to pull away from the rest of the family, however, I’ll need them all.
No matter what I decide to do, I’m putting myself in danger and by extension, Stella. I should just tell Mikhail to fuck off, find Stella, tell her the truth, and convince her to run with me. But the timing’s all wrong. Always is.
Chapter 7
Danya
“Nadia, will you stop fussing over the boy? He’s fine.”
My mother scowls at Mikhail as she tugs on my silver tie one more time. “I still don’t understand why you’re agreeing to this union. It’s pointless.”
I bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from arguing with Mom. She was the loudest out of the two when they told me I had to break it off with Stella in the first place. Nadia Ivanov might appear submissive and obedient in front of others, but when she’s alone with any of us, she lets her opinions be known. She disliked Stella back then, and she seems to dislike her even more now that I’m marrying her.
“You know nothing,” Mikhail states. “And if you keep arguing with me, you will regret it.”
Nadia’s eyes narrow, but she smooths her hand down my tie once more then steps back. She tugs the silver shawl over her shoulders and the black evening gown she picked out for the occasion. Diamonds cover her neck and hang from her ears. This might be a small affair by Mafia standards, but the heads of all the major families are present, minus De Luca of course. That would be too convenient. It would be an embarrassment for the wife of the Mafia king to appear in anything less than the most expensive outfit and accessories she could find. The dress alone cost almost ten thousand. Mikhail is wearing a tux much like my own. He waves to Nadia to leave the master suite of the mansion.
“You know your duty,” Mikhail says as he rests his hand on my shoulder. “After tonight, you’ll have your wife. I suggest you find yourself with an heir on the way as soon as possible to solidify your claim to the family.”
I swallow hard but nod. The urge to punch him is strong
, but I keep my hands relaxed at my sides. “I know what I need to do.”
“Good. Time to show the rest of the city we can bring the Russo family to heel. Show them you are your father’s son. It might be hard at first, dealing with an arranged marriage, but she’ll learn her place.”
If only he ever paid attention to who Stella is, he’d know that is not the case. I say nothing and follow him out the door. The brief ceremony is taking place in the garden out back. I let Mikhail and Mom go first, lingering a few more seconds. I was up most of the night, working out any scenario where I could get Stella or myself out of this, but no matter what I came up with, each one ended with Stella dying and me either being thrown in Mikhail’s cells or dying right along with her. Now I’m simply torn between the best way of keeping her safe. Do I let everyone know that I do, in fact, love this woman? Or do I keep my distance and suffer the consequences of whatever hate she throws my way?