I still turned and glared at her and she held up a hand to stem my protests immediately, already expecting everything that I was about to say.
“Alexander has found a wife, and now it’s time for you to find a husband, Katya. Do not disobey your father or there’ll be hell to pay with him.” She sipped her glass of champagne, her gaze directed towards the window. “This vacation is to bring us all back together. To welcome Marisha into our family, and to seek out a husband for you. You’ll do well to remember your responsibilities, Katya,” she said, looking back at me, and though her tone was harsh, her gaze was softer.
My responsibilities… I rolled my eyes at her and she pursed her lips as she tried not to scold me again.
I’d been told about my responsibilities since I was a little girl.
Find a powerful husband, settle down, have his babies to keep the Bratva bloodline strong. Blah, blah, blah. They were the same responsibilities that my mother had been gifted and no doubt my grandmother before her. When I thought of having children, of having a daughter, I wondered if her future would smack of the same flavor. Loyalty to the family. Duty to a husband. Motherhood. No talk of love and her own deeply planted dreams. Though we all knew that my mother and father had lucked out with each other. Their love, despite it being an arranged marriage, was the strongest you could imagine.
Of course, there was the power and wealth that came with all of that, but there was no talk of my desires, my wants. The Bratva women were aimed at keeping a man pleased and nothing more. The men were powerful. They were rich. And we were their pretty arm candy, only there to make them look good and to bear their children.
I loved my family, but I hated this side of it.
It was the one thing I actually liked about Nik...his mother had never bowed down to this side of tradition. She was a strong, powerful woman, who had built her own empire on the death of her husband, and now people feared her, even while she soaked up sun in retirement. I longed for that feeling too. I was not crafted for domestic bliss. I wasn’t built for kowtowing to a man. I was made of stronger stuff, though no one else seemed to realize it.
“It’s time,” mother soothed again.
“I’m not ready,” I whined, the words slipping out before I could stop them, and even I could admit I sounded like a child.
But it was true, I wasn’t ready. I had everything going for me right now. My body was in its most perfect condition. My mind was full of ideas and plans. I wanted to travel. I wanted an education. I wanted to choose my own husband...after I’d finished seducing the rest of the men in the world.
She looked back at me with softness in her eyes. My mother was beautiful and caring, and she loved both Alexander and I dearly. Yet, she had her place in this family, just like we had ours. She took my hand in hers and looked into my eyes softly, but with fierce resolution.
“This is the Bratva way, Katya,” she soothed before sighing. “I may be able to postpone it for a little while since we’re arranging Alexander and Marisha’s wedding, but you won’t have long.”
Despite the fact that she was trying to help me and be understanding, I snatched my hand from hers and pulled my eye-mask down to cover my eyes. She was trying to be kind. She was trying to be caring, and I knew she only wanted what was best for me, but who or what was to say that she or my father knew what was best for me? Shouldn’t I have some say in it?
And whether she admitted it or not, my mother had been blessed that her own arranged marriage had linked her with a man who respected her opinion and who wanted her to be happy. Not all Bratva wives were so fortunate.
“I need to sleep,” I said bitterly. “I need to look my best for my suitors.” I said the word suitors with as much disdain as I could muster.
I heard her sigh again as she stood up. She patted my hand softly and left, heading back to her own seat to tell my father that I had agreed even though I hadn’t. I stayed hidden behind my eye-mask, not wanting to face the world right now.
Moments later, I felt someone brush past and sit in the seat next to me and I lifted my eye-mask to check who it was, seeing it was only Nikolai.
“Urghh, you again. You’re like a bad smell that won’t go away, Nik,” I scowled.
He chuckled and took a sip of his vodka.
Vodka. It was always vodka with these Russian men.Or hundred-thousand-dollar scotch that they hoard away and won’t share with the lowly womenfolk.I thought derisively, wanting to rip the locked cabinet from its hinges and chug the entire amber bottle in one go just to piss off my mother.
“You’re sexy when you’re angry, Katya. It’s a shame that you look like you’ve swallowed a thorn the rest of the time.” He chuckled again and I rolled my eyes at him.
“Don’t you have a flight attendant to screw somewhere?” I pulled off my eye-mask completely, resigned to the fact that I wasn’t going to be sleeping any time soon. “Or did they all get the warning memo?”
“Warning memo?” he asked, his eyebrow raised and his dimple showing as he tried to hold in a smirk.
“Yes, I sent it to all the staff on board telling them you had crabs,” I laughed loudly and to my astonishment so did he.
God, I hated him.
Tall, dark, handsome...he was the epitome of a Bratva man, and everything I despised. His only endearing quality was his intense eyes and the dimple in his right cheek. The dark eyes made him look dangerous and the dimple made him look playful. He was the perfect oxymoron.
“That’s okay,” he replied, his gaze boring into mine, “I know your penchant for blond American men and told the pilot that you had syphilis.” He grinned and held up his glass to me before taking another sip.
“You bastard,” I snapped, my cheeks feeling hot. No wonder Kyle, the pilot, had ignored my advances earlier. I sighed, irritated but accepting of it since I’d done the same to him. “Well, it seems like neither of us are getting any pre-holiday screwing in. Aren’t we the clever ones?” I lifted my champagne and we clinked glasses.
Nikolai’s smile grew wider, his hand reaching out to land on the top of my knee and my eyes narrowed. His thumb stroked slowly back and forth, sending delicious shivers across my skin. “I mean, it doesn’t have to be like that. I may have crabs and you may have syphilis, but we’re still free and single.”
