Ruthless Mafia King: A Dark Bratva Arranged Marriage Romance

“My beautiful girl is all grown up,” my mother says with a fond smile. “You’re going to break a lot of hearts.”

I snort. “I’m afraid that ship has sailed.”

“Don’t be so sure about that, Kata,” my mother tells me with a conspiratorial wink. “Trust your father. His hands might be tied, but that doesn’t mean that he’ll give up without a fight.”

I roll my eyes. There has to be something different I could do at a time like this, and yet, all I can think about is Nikolai’s heated, silver gaze meeting mine for the first time.

“What’s this dinner about anyway?” I ask in an attempt to get my mind off the devil to whom I’ve been given.

Before my mother can provide an answer, the mansion’s door opens. I don’t have to look to see who it is. The loving expression on my mother’s face is the only answer I need.

“Just behave yourself, Kata,” is my mother’s only response as she goes to kiss my father’s cheek.

“Our guests will be here any minute now,” Papa says, his eyes traveling between me and my brothers.

“What for?” Igor demands and cocks his head.

“Business,” is his only reply.

I wonder if the dinner has anything to do with me and the Nikolai situation.

“Is that Boris Olenko getting out of the Mercedes?” Mikhail asks, watching through the window.

I let out a low whistle.

Olenko owns the majority of strip clubs in Brooklyn. He’s a man that not even my family has a good relationship with. But my father’s biggest rival, Sergey Gargarin, has an even worse opinion of the strip club owner. I guess the old saying about my enemy’s enemy being a friend is a true one, after all. I have no idea how else Boris managed to wrangle my father’s invitation to dinner.

There’s a lot about the Bratva I don’t really understand.

“Is Boris having dinner with us?” Igor asks. “Wait, is that his entire family? What’s going on, Papa?”

I swallow, all of a sudden becoming more than just curious. There’s another reason why I stand stiff with excitement. If I’m right, I won’t be the only one paying for Igor’s fuckups.

Boris‘s daughter was Igor’s classmate. She always had a crush on my knucklehead of a brother.

“You’re all going to be on your best behavior,” my father warns us before turning to open the door.

I take a deep breath. This isn’t going to end well, and I’m anxious to see how it unfolds.

“Oh, no,” Igor whispers and shifts uncomfortably next to me.

“Karma’s a bitch,” I taunt him under my breath. “Now pay attention to the show, brother.”

Without thinking, I reach for his hand and squeeze it tightly.

Mikhail takes his place next to me, his disapproving blue eyes flashing at me. I ignore my little brother’s judgment of my actions. Of all three of my brothers, he’s the only one that fears my temper.

Aleksander stands next to Igor and fixes his tie just as the seven faces of the Olenko family come into view.

The first is Evgenia Olenko, Boris‘s wife. She’s sweet but powerless. After her comes Vladimir, Boris‘s brother. He’s usually left in charge of the clubs when Boris goes on a business trip. Boris‘s nephew and Vladimir’s son, Fedot, comes next. He’s followed by his cousins and Boris‘s children, Galina, Maksim, and Grigoriy.

The last to enter is Boris himself.

“We’re honored to be invited to your home, Dimitri,” Boris says, as he shakes my father’s hand.

“It’s been long overdue,” my father replies as he pats Boris on the back.

With the first step inside, the head of the Olenko family releases a big breath, as if he has already done some heavy lifting to achieve this moment.

“May I present to you my family.” My father gestures at us. “My beautiful wife, Irina, my three sons, Igor, Aleksander, and Mikhail, and my lovely daughter, Katarina.”

“We’ve met before,” Galina blurts out. A flicker of longing burns in her eyes as she surveys Igor.

Igor is the only one who flinches at the way she speaks.

Boris makes a similar introduction, and as soon as the initial awkwardness is over, we move to the dining room.

I sit down with some of the Olenkos at the table. Thankfully, none of them is Galina. Boris‘s daughter can’t take her eyes off Igor. I don’t wish to end up anywhere near her drooling, no matter how much I might enjoy watching Igor squirm.

“Fedot,” I offer the man a friendly smile, “it’s a pleasure to meet you again. The last time I saw you, we were in kindergarten.”

“Well, it’s nice to see you again too, Katarina. And yes, you were five, but I was seven,” he says with a smile and a wink. “I still remember your pigtails and how much I enjoyed pulling them.”

His wink sends butterflies to my stomach.

“I’ve learned a thing or two in the time you’ve been away,” I tell him as I take a sip of red wine that was served to us.

“Have you now?” His question is rewarded with a slight giggle that slips out of my mouth. He grew into a handsome man, though his good looks are nothing compared to Nikolai’s.

I nod as I lean in. “Being spoiled and pretty is something I’ve mastered,” I whisper. He laughs wholeheartedly at my confession. “What about you, Fedot? What have you been up to?” I inquire in an attempt to keep up the small talk.

“Besides living with a reputation of being my daddy’s heir to a whole lot of strip clubs, I’ve done nothing that’s interesting,” Fedot confesses.

He doesn’t act like someone insecure about his future position in the Olenko family.

“Have you heard about Volkov’s visit to Russia?” Boris asks my father.

The mention of Nikolai catches my attention. I give Fedot a polite smile before turning my head to listen to the conversation between the two power figures.

“Yes, I received a call from my contacts in Siberia,” my father confirms with a curt nod.

“Then you know that it was unsuccessful,” Boris clarifies.

“You were unsuccessful,” my father corrects, and Boris stiffens. “Don’t worry, Olenko. I wouldn’t have invited you here if I was angry with you. Our goal is still the same. We need to weaken the industry leaders to prepare for the shift. No one should have so much power in their hands.”

My jaw is threatening to hit the table. Though I don’t understand most of it, I can read between the lines enough to know that they’re planning something against Nikolai. Maybe my mother is right, and my father is doing more than I thought.

But if that’s so, why would he agree to the arranged marriage in the first place?

With trembling hands, I pick up the glass and drain the wine in one go.

“As soon as we get rid of the head, Fedot will travel to Siberia and insert himself at the top,” Boris murmurs, making me and most of the others watch him with unease. “With our two families standing together, no one will dare threaten us. Not even the Gargarins.”

I take a quick peek at my father. He gives Boris a solemn nod before giving me a reassuring smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Igor and Galina’s marriage will further strengthen our alliance,” Papa adds.

“Hear, hear,” Boris cheers, holding up his half-empty glass.

I grab the bottle and start to pour Fedot a refill before I top off my own glass. He gives me a grateful smile.

Galina giggles and leans closer to Igor’s side. “Oh, Igor, I’m so happy. I promise I will take good care of our home and future kids.”

Igor’s face turns pale.

“What?” he blurts out, looking ill.

I don’t blame him. I felt the same way when Father told me about my engagement to Nikolai.

“The wedding will take place in two months,” Papa says, narrowing his eyes at Igor in warning.

“To the happy couple,” Aleksander says, before Igor can dig himself an even deeper hole.

Mikhail lifts his own glass and salutes Igor and Galina while ignoring the looks exchanged between Father and Igor.

I join the toast, meeting Evgenia’s warm brown eyes across the table. She seems as clueless to the whole situation as I am.

“To our alliance,” Vladimir’s deep voice booms as he clinks his glass to mine. “And to a long-lasting, successful partnership with the Sokolov family. Hopefully, Fedot and Katarina will find their way to each other without us having to make arrangements.”

I choke on my drink, nearly spitting it out. My freedom isn’t even guaranteed yet, and they’re already decorating my next prison cell.

“Relax,” Fedot whispers by my side. “We won’t do anything we don’t want to.”

I’m barely able to fake a smile as the conversation returns to my family. Out of reflex, I reach for another glass of wine, gulping it down for the instant calm the alcohol provides. No matter how much I liked Fedot in the past, something deep inside tells me that Nikolai is the lesser evil. The Volkov name has more power than Olenko, but that could change in an instant.

Even among friends, there’s a hierarchy. Each Bratki must always remain watchful of the ones above and below them. My future would be as uncertain with Fedot as it would be with Nikolai, or with any other Russian mobster for that matter.

I only wish I had a say in any of it.

I finish my wine quickly, pouring myself yet another glass. He offers me a polite smile but says nothing. His arm is dangling around the chair behind me, but I refuse to let his comfortable gesture lure me into a false sense of security.

It’s a crazy world when a person has to keep their guard up in their own home.

The dinner seems to take an eternity. The conversation turns dull. The company bores me.

My drunken mind shifts to Nikolai and his silver gaze.

I wonder when our paths will cross again.