Dad leans forward. “Rosie, listen?—”
Even though there’s a table between us, I jerk back in the chair to get away from him. “You knew about this? You brought me here for this?”
“Drew?” Danyl says mildly. “Why don’t you let us talk.”
Dad hesitates, then drops his hand. His face is pale. “I’m trying to protect you,” he mutters.
“From what?” I ask, but I don’t really want the answer.
“From what happens when you owe Bratva money,” he says, voice thin, scared. “It’s not like a bank loan, Rosie. They make a statement when you don’t pay. They make you a cautionary tale for others.” He’s shaking now.
“You’re making it sound like they’re going to kill you,” I say, and even as I say it, I feel stupid. I know he’s exaggerating, but I can see how scared he is. Beads of sweat covers his forehead.
“Kill?” Danyl repeats, almost amused. “That’s a little extreme.” He leans forward, hands on his knees, and my dad flinches. “If you don’t pay, you lose things. Property. Respect. Friends,”Danyl continues, “Maybe fingers. Maybe limbs. Maybe your daughter’s future.”
“That’s a lie,” I say, but my voice wavers. Because I can feel all my dreams about college, about a legal career, crashing down around me.
“It’s a possibility,” he says. “Your father owes a lot of money. If he can’t pay, we must make an example of him. Do you mind being his caretaker for the rest of your life? To help him wash, to change his adult diapers because he can no longer walk?”
“Rosie,” my Dad keens, “help me.”
My mind races and I can’t think. One of my legs starts bouncing like it does when I’m anxious or overwhelmed. I’m so scared. These men are serious, but at the same time, anger fills me. How could Dad get himself into this situation? Why do I always have to be the adult in our family?
Danyl watches me for a beat and then turns to Alexei. “Explain it to her.”
Alexei pushes away from the door frame and walks over to the couch, but doesn’t sit. He stands beside it, his cold gray gaze boring into mine. “You marry me,” he says simply. “I gain permanent residency. Your father’s debt is cleared. Your father keeps his fingers, his kneecaps, his life. You get… stability and protection.”
“Protection from who?” I ask, even though I already know.
“From people who might want to hurt you because your father also owes them money,” he says. “From your father’s bad decisions, in general, to be honest.” He shoots my dad a derisive look.
The way he says it, in that flat tone, like this is just another business transaction, twists something in my chest.
For once, my dad is quiet. He’s rocking back and forth, staring at the floor.
I look at the folder on the desk. The word “Contract” is printed on the cover, the letters small but their weight heavy.
I reach for it and pull it toward me. My hands tremble so badly, I have trouble flipping it open. Alexei leans forward like he wants to help, but Danyl holds up a hand, stopping him.
Forcing my leg to stop bouncing on the floor, I read the first page and then flip to the second. Numbers. Dates. Clauses. Legal language I barely understand, even though I try to read it carefully.
I’m not stupid, but my brain is firing like a machine with a short circuit. I’m reading the words, but my head is full of noise.
Subject: Rosie Morgan
Consideration: Marriage to Alexei Kedrov, a full legal commitment.
Residency: Conditional on… bloodlines, continuity… issue of the marriage?—
“Bloodlines?” I mutter, and my throat feels tight.
“Faithfulness,” Danyl says. “Call it whatever you want. But if there are children, we must know they are his.”
I swallow. My eyes burn. I will not cry. I will not break. At least not here, in front of these men. These horrible men, including my dad.
I force myself to keep reading.
In the event of non-compliance, within two years, obligations will revert to initial debt terms, with penalties for… breach of contract. Financial indemnity. Breach of… procreation clause.
