Page 4 of Hers to Command

“It is good you are here. We need to speak.”

He moves some papers, and I set out our food, doing my best not to look at my father. Whatever he has to say, I doubt it’ll be something I want to hear. Nor do I expect him to actually expect me to contribute to the conversation.

Useless. That’s what my degree is. I’m educated and dumb at the same time. Complacent. Because as much as I always thought I was in charge of my life, I never actually was. I just played at it. Running the Flemingdon Park club under my father’s nose while he thought Mikhail handled everything got me exactly nothing. And now I’m left with not a single good idea for how to get out of this situation, while doing what I’ve always done. Be the good daughter my father expects me to be, while hoping someday I’ll get some say.

Of course, when my father opens his mouth, it’s clear that day isn’t today. “Solntsev is not the man I would have chosen under different circumstances, but with your brother’s betrayal, he is our best option and he will offer you the life you deserve.”

Instead of using the plastic cutlery that came with the takeout food, I had brought some actual silverware and put it into the bag before coming. A mistake, since the noise of the fork clattering onto the table gives away my feelings on the matter.

My father gives me a hard look. “He may not be your first choice either, but he has the money and resources we need to keep our position in this city. Do not think that you’d be better off if I don’t make this deal, Anya. We have a good position here, but I won’t be here to keep it in place forever and when that happens, the Italians will carve up what’s left if I don’t make arrangements. You know the state things were in when I took over for my father. It was not a good time to be Russianin the city and I won’t allow your brother’s actions to destroy everything I’ve done for the Bratva.”

The angered expression on his face speaks of the misdirected grief he’s feeling. Not just about his own mortality, which is growing uncomfortably closer, but for the son he thought would take over for him. To my father, Mikhail is as good as dead, and it has pushed him closer to his own end.

Another thing to blame my brother for.

I may still answer Mikhail’s calls, but part of me still wants to pay him back for the way he fucked me over. A vengeful part that is calculating, waiting for the best moment to strike.

Another thing I’ve put off longer than I should have.

“Let us eat before the food gets cold,” father says, reminding me of my task. I finish pulling out the napkins and we both take a bite. I wonder if he can taste any more than me, because to me it all tastes bland and, even though it’s his favourite, my father looks like his mind is on something else.

“I need to know what the agreement with Solntsev entails.” While I’ve often asked my father about business and sometimes he humors me and shares some information, I rarely demand to know something. But this time, he has to acknowledge that I deserve to know more.

My father looks up at me, still chewing on the Pelmeni. After a moment, he nods slowly and clears his throat. “Yes, you should know.”

I put down my fork and knife. It’s not like I feel hungry, anyway.

“You will marry Solntsev to bind our families together. He’s the younger of the two Solntsev brothers, but heavily involved in the business back home. The arrangement will give us access to Solntsev’s stock and shipping connections. It also provides us with a powerful backer to deter the Italians from messing with our family.”

I stare at my father evenly. “So Solntsev is doing this because he’s biding his time until he can take your place and branch out to get claim on his own territory where he doesn’t have to play second fiddle to his brother?”

My father’s expression is grim, but he nods. “It isn’t what I would have chosen under different circumstances, but it is best for our family now. This arrangement will ensure that there is no confusion about the stability of our organization. He is your fiancé now, and as soon as the shipment with his payment arrives, we will have the wedding.”

“I could take over from you.” I say the words quietly, but my father hears me just fine.

He shakes his head. “The deal is made, Anya.”

It’s hard not to shake him.

Sold.

He fucking sold me.

I want to reach out and grab his frail shoulders, ignoring the air cannula, and shake sense into him. Make him see me. Make him see that this is stupidity at its best. I am right here, more than fucking capable of taking over the business. Fucking definitely more capable than Mikhail would have been without my help. Instead, he sold me like he would do to any of the women in his stable. As if being his daughter means nothing more than a higher price ticket.

And in turn, he’ll get access to the Solntsevskaya Brotherhood’s stock. It’s a nice little word for the hundreds of girls who are being trafficked as if they’re animals.

But I don’t do it. I don’t shake my father until he sees sense, because that would be pointless. Mikhail isn’t the only man in my family who lacks any sort of conscience. I just watch as my father takes another bite, this time actually looking like he’s paying attention to what he’s chewing.

No matter how much I’ve hated my father’s misogyny and ignorance toward my capabilities, no matter how much I’ve rebelled while he wasn’t watching, I’ve never stood up to him. No matter how much my rage has grown over the past few days, I’m still unable to let it vent and confront my father. Not when it’s sure to kill him.

I may be capable of a lot, but I’ve never murdered a man.

Yet.

“How long has the negotiation been going on?” What I really want to ask is when the shipment of girls is expected, but I know my father won’t tell me. So I ask the second most important question. I need to know for how long my fate has been planned while he left me ignorant.

“A couple of months, perhaps.” My father gives me a look that tells me he doesn’t understand why I’m asking. How a man who’s built up a stronghold for the Bratva in a city like Toronto can be both so shrewd and ignorant is beyond me.

---