Seduction: A Dark Bratva Fake Marriage Romance (Wicked Vows)

We sit next to each other in the grand ballroom that my mother has decorated. She’s pulled out all the stops, but she had to. The setting must reflect the power and wealth of the Romanov family as we unite with the Ivanovs. A rehearsal dinner is an American tradition, but we are in America, and this is our chance for the families to meet, the night before the wedding.

“Have you met everyone?” I ask Vera. My future wife. I haven’t let her go since we’ve reunited.

Vera shakes her head. “I’ve met Polina, Katerina, and Harper,” she says, smiling. “I assume that’s Aria because she’s the only other woman I haven’t met, and I’ve heard so much about her,” she says with a smile, pointing in fact to Aria. “The man next to her must be Mikhail, and let’s see. . . You’ve mentioned your brothers, but you need to introduce me to them.”

“Ollie’s the one with the green eyes and leather jacket, sitting apart from everyone. I’ll be working with him as the liaison between the Ivanovs and Romanovs. He specializes in international relations. My other brothers. . .” I jerk my head toward the other side of the table, where my other brothers sit.

“That’s Viktor.” Viktor, a hulking, muscular man with a shaved head and a scar running down one cheek, lifts a hand. He gives Vera one of his rare smiles.

“Harper’s husband is Aleksandr.” I point to Aleks – a tall, well-built man with bright blue eyes.

“And Mikhail, our fearless leader,” I say, gesturing to the man with the golden skin and decided air of authority. “The Pakhan of the Romanov brotherhood.”

“Finally, our youngest brother Lev.” Lev, the one who was hurt and almost died at the hands of the Ivanovs. He has a well-defined, athletic build, short dark hair, and deep blue eyes. Lev keeps to himself, likely not as keen to join forces with the men who hurt him. I can’t blame him.

“You’ll meet my mentor, Kolya, soon. He couldn’t join us today. And the children are around here somewhere,” I finish. I’ve missed them.

The wine flows, and food is passed around, but there’s a subtle tension in the room. My mother and Zofia are getting along fine, but Mikhail sits brooding, watching everything, as it’s his job as the patriarch of the family to keep everything in order. Finally, at the end of the meal, he speaks up.

“I’d like a word, please,” he says. “There are a few who don’t know me. I speak frankly, and everything I’m about to say is for the benefit of both families. We can’t pretend certain events haven’t happened, but we need to ensure we’re all on the same page.”

Vera’s mother nods.

“If you’d like, you can record this or conference them in.”

“It’s too late for that,” her mother replies, “but thank you. May I record you?”

Mikhail agrees.

Everyone is on their best behavior, but we still need to address the underlying tension.

Mikhail begins. “We all know that Nikko was on a mission. He was directed to go by me. I had him pretend to be Markov for a good reason. We learned that the late Petr Ivanov had called for the execution of Harper Bianchi—Harper Romanov—and nearly killed my pregnant wife in the process.”

My mother pales.

“Furthermore, under more of his orders, my younger brother Lev was attacked and almost killed.”

Everyone sits in silence as Mikhail speaks.

“We must address the alliance we’re forming tomorrow, the need to solidify ranks, and the reality that our combined forces will be powerful. But justice must be served. We know that Nikko was ready to lay down his life. While we’d like to think we’re beyond an eye-for-an-eye mentality, that’s not always the case.”

I speak up. “We clarified with Petr Ivanov before his untimely death that the attacks against us were not his orders.”

“I understand,” her mother says. “But it was our family who attacked you. And I’ve already thought this through.” Vera looks at her in surprise, not quite as in tune with politics as her mother. “We’re willing and able to discuss how our families will make amends for all that has happened.”

Mikhail pauses for a moment, sitting up straighter. “Then Nikko, I will depend on you to report back. It’s essential to have a working relationship with the Ivanov hierarchy. Am I clear?”

“Yes, sir. Of course.”

“Excellent.” Mikhail sits down. “Let’s eat.”

Neither Vera nor I are very hungry. We’ve been apart and need time alone. Though it’s Russian tradition for a bride and groom to spend the night apart, I’m going to insist on seeing my future wife alone.

“Take a walk with me, Vera?”