Page 16 of Scarred Bratva King

“You’re going to marry him,” Dmitri says matter-of-factly. “It will be a temporary arrangement—sixty days. His father is temporary Pakhan and Maxim can only inherit if he’s married and trying for a child.”

“I’m supposed to have a kid with this guy? What the fuck?”

“You just need to make the marriage look real until he inherits and we deal with the Lombardi problem. Then you can walk away safe. That’s what you want, right?”

“What I want is a bookstore I can live in. One with chocolate in the drawers, and wine in the faucets.”

“This is the next best thing, trust me.”

I shake my head, a bitter laugh escaping my lips. “Marriage to a complete stranger. Sure. What could possibly go wrong? What if your cousin is worse than Marco? You ever consider that?”

“Maxim is a good man,” Dmitri replies angrily, leaning back in his chair. “He’s not marriage material but, like you, he’ll put a show on for the next couple of months. The two of you will live here, make Victor think the marriage is real. The wedding’s being planned as we speak.”

The way he says it sends a shiver down my spine. Like it’s already decided.

“What if he doesn’t like me? What if I don’t like him?” I press, crossing my arms over my chest. “I’m not exactly easy to live with, you know.”

Dmitri shrugs. “You’ll manage for two months. Maxim isn’t the type to care whether someone’s easy to live with. He’s a busy man.”

“Comforting,” I mutter, glancing at Elena. “And you’re okay with this? Handing me off to some guy I’ve never met?”

She reaches for my hand. “You’re family, Veronica. We’d never put you in danger. And if you don’t like him, you can always tell him some of your jokes.”

I snort, despite the rising anxiety twisting in my chest. “That’ll end well.”

Dmitri’s lips curl into a faint smirk. “Maxim is waiting for us in the games room. Let’s go.”

I open my mouth to argue, to demand a better solution, but the look on Dmitri’s face stops me. He’s not asking for my opinion. This isn’t a negotiation—it’s a decision that’s already been made.

I turn to Elena. “Did you know about this?”

She at least has the decency to look sheepish. “It’s for the best,” she says.

“Fine,” I mutter, getting to my feet. “But if this cousin turns out to be a psychopath, I’m blaming both of you. I’ve had my psycho quota maxed out for the year already.”

Elena squeezes my hand, her smile soft. “Don’t worry. You’ll be okay. And who knows? Maybe Maxim will be the one.”

“Yeah, nothing says the one like marrying a woman you’ve never met for sixty days just so you can inherit a criminal enterprise.”

The walls are lined with bookshelves and art, a peculiar mix of classical paintings and contemporary prints. A chessboard is set up on a small table by the window, the pieces ready to begin.

My fingers grip the doorframe as my heart thuds against my ribs.

Elena glances back at me, her smile faltering for a moment when she sees my expression. “Hey,” she says softly, stepping closer. “It’s going to be okay. Just… take a deep breath and trust me, alright?”

Trust. That’s a tall order. But I nod, forcing my feet to move.

And then I see him.

He’s sitting in an armchair at the far end of the room, one leg crossed over the other, his posture casual but commanding. A sleek black cane rests against his knee. He’s reading an old copy of Crime and Punishment.

His dark brown hair is neatly combed back, and even from across the room, I can see the sharp cut of his jaw and the cold intensity in his eyes.

I know that face. But where from?

“Finished the crime bit yet?” I ask. “Or onto the punishment part already?”

He looks up at me and I gasp.

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