Page 8 of Merciless Union
He raises an eyebrow. “Did I disappoint you, Miss Smirnoff?”
“No,” I say too quickly. Clearing my throat, I try again. “No. You didn’t.” I look at my father’s beaming face. This would elevate our family to an even higher social standing, and I know how much that means to my father. I would do anything to make my parents happy.
This is what I’ve been preparing for my entire life. Marriage.
But why do I feel so uncertain and unsteady?
Not that my feelings matter—it was decided when my father agreed to Maxim’s marriage proposal on my behalf.
I’m marrying this man.
“Thank you for considering me,” I say evenly.
Maxim nods once. “Good. Then it’s settled. We’ll have the wedding by the end of the month.”
And just like that, everything I’ve been preparing for has been thrown out the window in favor of a new reality.
I’m marrying a stranger who only views me as a pawn for his own gain and alliances. How can anyone be prepared for that?
CHAPTER3
Maxim
“Shall we discuss this in the living room?” George asks. He nods at Arina, who’s standing frozen in place. Her paint-splattered apron manages to look good on her, making her look cute in a charming way. Arina is a beautiful woman, both dolled up for a funeral or dressed down to paint. She’ll look good on my arm, and that’s all this is—a woman who’ll be a quiet, submissive wife who can provide me with good alliances like her father.
I nod, gesturing for Arina to go ahead of me. For a moment, she doesn’t move. Then she slowly unties her apron. I’ve taken her by surprise—that’s obvious. But seeing her at the funeral, I knew she’d be mine.
That’s why, the minute my family was safely back home, I came over here. I don’t have any time to waste. I need to solidify my power as head of the Bratva as soon as possible.
Arina looks at me curiously as she walks past me, George following. I bring up the rear. A leader knows when to walk first and when to walk last. I want George to feel comfortable around me. He needs to know he can trust me as he did my father.
“We have to be quiet,” Arian says. “My mother is sleeping.”
I glance at the door she nods toward as we walk down the hallway. I’ve never met Oksana Smirnoff, but I’ve heard my father speak about her on more than one occasion. He loved turning his attention to other women who weren’t my mother. Any woman in the mafia was fair game to him. I intend to be different. I think cheap sex is that—cheap. I only care to sleep with women I have some kind of connection with.
Soon, that will be Arina.
Her hips sway as she walks, almost like she’s teasing me, and I can’t wait to make her mine.
“Please, have a seat,” George says once we’re in the living room. Arina sits downs stiffly. I take a seat across from her.
“What would you like to discuss?” I ask, steepling my hands.
Arina sits forward. “Will I be a part of the wedding planning?”
“Of course. I wouldn’t dream of taking away the imaginings a young woman has for her wedding.”
She nods. “All right.” She looks at her father. “That’s all I really have to say.”
He looks between his daughter and me. “I think this will be a good match.” He turns to me. “My daughter is a fine, young woman. She’ll make a wonderful wife and will make you very happy.”
I sit back. “I don’t need her to make me happy. I just need her to comply.”
George blinks before straightening his shoulders. “Of course.”
I glance at Arina to see how she’s handling all of this. She sits quietly, the picture of perfect poise. So, my words are not bothering her, which makes her the perfect woman. Or she’s just very good at hiding her emotions, which means we’ll have that in common.
Most girls in the mafia dream of marriage since that’s their only option. Arina is tough to read. She doesn’t seem terribly upset, which is good, but she also doesn’t seem happy to be engaged to me. And what woman wouldn’t want to marry me?
