Chapter One
Lauren
I have about five seconds before I’m tackled down by security.
My heart pounds as I duck under a floral arrangement the size of a car and slip inside the estate. A juliet rose petal has transferred onto my dress, and I flick it away with shaking fingers. Classic Bratva. Opting for the most expensive kind of flowers to flaunt all of the blood money they have.
The estate is much bigger than it needs to be. It’s a goddamn fortress and guards stand at each entrance waiting to pounce. They all wear black suits and poker faces, their hands clamped around their guns, itching to use them. Ready to kill.
Crashing this wedding was a mistake. A big one. One I might not make it out alive of. All of the thugs here are three times my size and ready to tear anyone apart without a hint of hesitation. They could simply blow me away if they wanted. Make me disappear and never be seen again.
But I have no choice.
I must save my bestie from the stupidest, most ridiculous mistake of her life.
Sophia and I go back since high school. It was the first day of freshman year and we were both friendless in math class, so we decided to sit together. We clicked almost immediately. Same sense of humor, same taste in music, same taste in everything that mattered. By the end of the week, we were inseparable besties and vowed to be the maids of honor at each other’s weddings. We even practiced our speeches in my bedroom mirror, giggling until our stomachs hurt.
Funny how that’s all turned out.
But this is deeper than a fourteen-year-old girl’s promise. This is about loyalty. About a friendship that’s supposed to last forever.
Sophia and I always dreamed of breaking free from our families and carving out our own lives. As daughter to the all-powerful Charles Watson, those dreams remain dreams for me, but there was a real possibility for her. A chance at freedom.
Emphasis onwas.
What sort of life is she going to have with a Bratva ring on her finger? What kind of future awaits her in that world of blood and violence?
Something was off from the start. She only told me about the wedding two days before the date.
Two freaking days.
That’s the sort of thing you tell your bestie as soon as you get engaged, and that didn’t happen either. No excited phone call. No squealing about the proposal. Nothing.
Sophia didn’t even have a boyfriend. She’s always been the type to stay clear of men unless it was something serious. We used to go to the bar and guys would come up to her, but she’d always turn them away, even the handsome British ones with good hair. She always told me that boys are a distraction and that she wanted to focus on her career first, working as a nutritionist.
About a year ago, she started her own business, and it blew up. She always had an eye for it. Sharp instincts, good with people. On coffee dates, we’d talk about what was going on presently in our lives. I’d talk about my father’s shady financial transactions, what it’s like to work under him, and Sophia would go off on a tangent about niche topics, like how blueberries and garlic can positively influence a person’s metabolism. We rarely spoke about men, and that was simply because we rarely entertained them. We had bigger things to focus on.
Then, all of a sudden, two days before the ceremony, Sophia messages me.
She’s getting married.
To Timur Gusev.
TheTimur Gusev.
The ruthless Bratva enforces who is probably responsible for my mom’s death.
And I’m here to stop that from happening.
I curl around the wall and observe my surroundings, waiting for the perfect moment to make a move. I must admit, my plan wasn’t very well thought through, but I had to do something. I acted on impulse. I often do. One of my bad traits that has a tendency of getting me into trouble.
Deep trouble.
Like it will do now.
But I’m not backing out. I can’t bear to see another loved one taken away from meagain, because of these people. Not Sophia. Not after everything I’ve already lost.
The Bratva are more vicious than birds of prey.
