This is it. There’s no going back.
“Me. As the head of the syndicate, I will”bear this burden“get the privilege to join the families.”
“Interesting.” I can tell he’s already decided. “And who do you wish to marry?”
I can sense the trap. If I were to select a Bratva woman, he’d take offense on behalf of all the others. And, technically, I shouldn’t know any Bratva woman. But I do. I wouldn’t be a good leader if I didn’t know my enemy. And my youngest brother, Sebastian, has computer skills that come in handy in obtaining knowledge we shouldn’t have.
“I have no preference. I trust whoever you select will make a fine wife.” I doubt it. They’ll be Bratva. And God forbid they’re related to him.
The room descends in silence as he thinks. I can practically see his wheels turning. Only when his expression morphs into a sinister grin does my heart accelerate.
“You’ll marry my daughter,” he says gleefully. “She is the perfect candidate. Young, beautiful, pure. There’s no finer Russian girl. She’s been raised to be the perfect Bratva Princess. She will do you well.”
My stomach drops. So, I’ll be marrying Katerina Sokolov, the girl in her twenties. Viktor’s young daughter.
“Thank you for this honor,” I say calmly and call up a grateful smile. “I will treat her well.”
“Yes, I’m sure you will,” he says flippantly. “My Katerina will be a good, subservient wife. She listens well and will be at your command. She’s untouched by any man, an unadulterated virgin. She won’t give you any trouble.”
A subservient wife? Listens well? At my command?I’ve never thought much of what I’d want in a wife, but it would’ve probably been something along those lines. A woman who respects me and obeys me seems ideal.
But for some reason, the thought of it disgusts me. I don’t know what I want, but a wife who’s basically my servant is not it.
And a virgin? That sounds like a nightmare. I don’t want some young, inexperienced girl. I don’t need someone who still has to grow up.
The way he speaks of her makes me sick. What kind of man can so easily get rid of his daughter? Sell her without a second thought. Without even discussing it with her.
“Thank you.” I nod in acceptance. “Let me know when she has decided.” I give him the chance to prove he’s not a total piece of shit father.
“I have decided. She’ll be your wife,” he assures me. He doesn’t even hesitate or take her feelings into consideration.
Despite not knowing or caring about the girl, I’m furious on her behalf. For fuck’s sake, this is the twenty-first century. Women get a say in who they marry. And a daughter should be protected by her father, not sold like cattle.
“Let’s talk logistics.” I switch the topic because any more talk of his slave daughter, and I won’t be able to stop myself from throwing a punch. “What do you want on your end?”
“Ever the businessman.” He laughs. “I want a ceasefire. Not one more of my men should have a finger laid on them. None of your men are to interact with my own. I need you to stop monitoring my activity. When we agree to peace, the threat will be gone, so no more observation is required… And your brother must pay for what he’s done.”
I nod along until the last one.
“I agree to all the terms except the last one. Roman has done his penance in the form of being shot, twice, by your men. No more will be asked of him.” My tone leaves no room for argument. My family is off limits. It’s my job to protect them.
“Fair enough,” he concedes.
“Do you have any more demands?” I need it all on the table now.
“Port control. I want your ports near mine to be handed over. I have more…productbeing delivered, and with a higher supply, I need more docks.” His stern eyes show this isn’t negotiable.
“Deal. I want the same terms as the previous treaty. Total ceasefire. No men of mine are to be harmed. Any of your men found in our territory are at risk of being interrogated. If you start any wars, then the treaty is over. Also, you are required to attend every meeting of the families.” I add the latter as a precaution if things go south.
“My men can be interrogated but not killed.” When I nod, he proceeds. “I agree to these terms.”
I stand and shake his hand.
“My lawyer will draw up a contract and send it to you,” I say. I don’t trust him to make the contract.
“It’s been a pleasure doing business with you.” His grin makes me anxious. This was almost too easy. “Should we celebrate over a glass of vodka?”
He’s already making his way across the room towards his cabinet. I’m not a vodka man, but I know better than to turn him down. I can’t risk offending him.
