Page 64 of Vendetta Vows

I turn back to face him, jaw tight. "I get that. But whatever it is you think you see, you're wrong. Aurora Castellanos and I are simply marrying for mutual benefits. Nothing more. I won't fall for her. I swear it."

Artyom leans against my desk, arms crossed over his chest, watching me with that knowing smirk I've grown to hate. He's been my best friend since childhood, which is why I made him my head of security after Father disowned me.

Other than Lev, Artyom is the most trusted person in my life.

Now he's the only one, I remind myself.

Sometimes, I wish he wasn't so damn perceptive.

But even as I deny what Artyom says, my mind flashes to Aurora earlier when I kissed her against the glass. The easy way her body fit in my arms as if she's made to be with me. The small whimpers tumbling from her throat when my hand tugged at her clothes.

"There's no way in hell you won't fall for this girl," Artyom interrupts my thoughts. "I know that look. I've seen it before."

He stops, letting the words hang in the air for a little while longer before he starts talking again.

"Does she know about the Garza girl? What happened to her?"

The question hits like a physical blow. I turn to look out the window, unable to face him. "No."

"Don't you think she deserves to know before marrying into this life? Before marrying you?"

"Of course she does," I admit, sighing. "But if I tell her that... about what happened..." My voice breaks slightly. "She'll run. And what happens if she ends up running into the stalker she's been running from this entire time?"

"So you'd rather trap her in ignorance?"

"I'd rather keep her alive."

It's the truth.

Artyom pushes away from the desk and steps toward me, snapping me out of my thoughts.

"Listen to yourself, Ruslan. You can claim you don't plan on falling for her all you want, but everything you're doing tells me otherwise. The way you talk about her... the way your voice changes... you're already halfway there."

I drag a hand across my face, desperate to shift the conversation away from Aurora and the dangerous direction of Artyom's observations.

"Setting aside this discussion about my non-existent love-life." I hold up my hand to stop Artyom from starting another comeback. "I need to discuss what will happen when I'm named pakhan. Namely, my choice for an avtoritet."

"I've been thinking about that too." Artyom's eyes narrow as he stares into his now-empty glass, and seriousness returns to his voice. "What about Kirill Grinev? He's been a brigadier for years."

"Kirill is too much of a hothead." I shake my head. "If I need someone killed, I'll choose him. But he's not a planner."

"What about Stepan Lopatin? He's level-headed, respected, can actually think more than three steps ahead?—"

"And he was one of Tamara's personal guards," I finish for him. "I can't trust someone that close to the Mikonovs as my avtoritet."

"Sergei Maslenikov? Man was practically raised by the bratva."

I scoff. "And Lev caught him skimming from every business he touched. If I can't even trust him with money, there's no way I can trust him with running the bratva."

Artyom nods slowly. "That doesn't leave many options."

"It does, actually." I cross the room to refill his glass, my decision already made. "You."

His head snaps up, expression hardening. "Me? You can't be serious."

"I've never been more serious, Artyom." I place the bottle down with a definitive thud. "I need someone who understands this world but isn't corrupted by it. Someone who follows rules but knows when to break them. Someone who will tell me when I'm being an idiot, but still have my back."

"Ruslan—"

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