Page 2

"Alana, you’ll hurt yourself," I hear, and it's Batya's voice again, begging me to calm down. But how, after what he did to me?

When I realize fighting is futile, I arch my back and let my head drop backward, praying I will just die. That whoever is holding me will drop me on my head and death will consume me. I will succumb to the darkness and this nightmare will be over.

"Please. oh, God. please." But my prayers go unanswered, heaven's ears closed to them as whoever carries me lays me down on a bed.

"I should go to the council." I open my eyes to see Batya standing over me. I'm in a different room now, in a bed. But the room is dark.

"You should keep your mouth shut. You have sins too, Nikolai." Mr. Sokolov stands at the foot of my bed, though I’m still so delirious that I can't be sure it's really him.

"Sins greater than what your son did to my daughter? Your family is disgusting, you are all svinya and vyrodki."

"Both of you, take this out of here. She needs to rest. We're waiting for the doctor. Get out! Now!" My mother chases them away, and I let my eyes fall shut again. "I'm here, Alana. I'm here."

Her caring hand smooths the hair off my face, though strands of it stick to my skin. He hit me on the head too. It's probably blood that makes the hair cling.

"Mamulya," I mewl, but I'm too weak to even reach for her.

"Batya will handle it, Milaya, okay? Let Batya handle it."

Usually, when my family says the words "handle it", it means bloodshed will happen. But I watched him shoot Ivan Sokolov in the head right in front of me. Who knows whether the blood that stains me from head to toe is mine or that monster's, and who knows how Batya will "handle it"?

I try my hardest to keep my eyes open and stay aware, but I can't. I know he drugged me. Whatever is in my system is sucking me under.

And for the love of God, I pray I never surface again.

2

DIMITRI

Iwalk into the council meeting and the council head stops talking mid-sentence. Every head turns except my father's, who's sitting at the long table with the Volskaya Pakhan like they're business partners instead of men who've been trying to destroy each other for five years. It sets my teeth on edge to see them chumming it up. Have they no actual decency?

"Take your seat, Dimitri," the council head finally says, gesturing toward the chairs where Alexei sits next to my father. Neither of them looks up, like they're too engrossed in the business at hand to give a fuck whether I'm even here. Of course my brother doesn't care. He's firmly seated in the place I once held and gave up willingly.

I walk past them and lean against the wall instead of sitting, crossing my arms over my chest. My father's jaw tightens but he doesn't look at me—typical. The council head clears his throat and picks up his documents, continuing where my entrance interrupted.

"The proposed agreement calls for the marriage of Natalia Volskaya to Alexei Sokolov on Christmas Eve," he reads out loud. "Upon the signing of the marriage certificate, both families will cease all hostilities and return to their previous territorial boundaries."

I watch Alexei while he talks, staring at his hands tucked carefully in his lap like a good, obedient boy. He's thirty years old and he's letting them sell his life away like he's property—and to an opposing family, no less. It's disgusting. I can't believe he isn't protesting this more. We've done nothing but war with them as long as my mind could make memories. I'm thirty-two years old and one hundred percent of my adult life has been tension with this specific family—some of which caused my very downfall.

Natalia sits between her parents, unblinking, looking like someone reached in and removed whatever part of her might've objected to this. Alexei I could—by the farthest stretch of my imagination possible—understand, but her? The only thing she stands to inherit in all of this is a life of servitude to my brother and some money. She can't be that desperate that she'd trade her future happiness for some money today and the pat on her back by her own father, could she?

I scan the room because I can't stand watching and notice Alana pressed into the corner like she's trying to disappear into the wall. Her face is a mask of grief and rage. At least one of the Volskaya family members understands this farce for what it is. Batya talks of peace, but there will be no peace so long as blood runs through any Sokolov's beating heart.

"Does anyone wish to speak before we call the vote?" the council head asks after reading a lengthy paragraph about the specific terms of the marriage contract, including pushing our territory lines.

My father stands up. "The Sokolov family supports this union, Mr. Chairman, and I want to add that I'm happy we're finally setting this in stone. The future is bright for our families."

I look at Alana again, staring at her father now with hatred in her eyes. I feel the very same hatred about this event, though I can see why Alana might be more defensive. Her sister's life will never be the same. She probably sees that and wants to protect her. I, on the other hand, have my entire family's history and future on my mind. My father circumvented Bratva council orders and procedures and hid facts from them—facts, that if anyone in this room discovered them, would change the entire agreement. I can't stand for it. Things should be done the right way, and the Volskaya name should never be tied to the Sokolovs in anything but blood.

"All in favor?" the council head asks, and hands start shooting up.

But I push off the wall and stand up straighter, refusing to let this go even one more second longer. "I object."

The room freezes, and my father turns slowly to look at me for the first time since I walked in. "Sit down, Dimitri."

"No, this marriage is a mistake," I say, stepping away from the wall. "The politics are wrong and you all know it. You're burying your heads in the sand. Forcing these two to marry just to⁠—"

"Enough!" my father shouts, standing to his feet again. His eyes are bulging out of his head and his face is bright red.