Page 29 of BRATVA'S Avenging Bride
He stands, walks to the window overlooking the city. "Katherine Vine. Twenty-three. Former dancer at Boris's club. Last seen walking away from a burning building eleven minutes after the fire started."
Fuck. Of course he knows. Of course he's been watching.
"She's under my protection," I say carefully.
"Your protection." He turns to face me. "Or your obsession?"
I don't flinch. "Both."
"Matvey—"
"I want to marry her."
The words land like a bomb. My father goes very still, the way a predator does before it strikes.
"What did you say?"
"You heard me. I want to marry Katherine. Make her my wife. Bring her into the family officially." The more I talk, the more I realize the truth of it.
Fuck.
"Absolutely not." His left brow lifts slowly, challenging me to defy him.
So I do. "Father—"
"She murdered three of our men! She destroyed valuable property! She's a liability, a loose end that needs to be tied up permanently. And you want to marry her?" He's across the room in three strides, his face inches from mine. "Have you lost your mind?"
"No. I've found it."
"Found—" He breaks off, laughing again, but this time it's tinged with something that might be hysteria. "You stupid boy. You foolish, reckless boy. Do you have any idea what this will do to our alliances? To our standing with the other families?"
"I know exactly what it will do. Which is why I'm telling you first, before I tell anyone else."
"How generous of you." His voice drips sarcasm. "And what makes you think I'll allow this?"
"Because you don't have a choice."
His hand moves so fast I almost don't see it. The slap echoes through the office, snapping my head to the side. My cheek burns, my eyes try to water, but I don't move. Don't react.
I simply turn my head back and meet his gaze.
"Hit me again," I say quietly. "It won't change anything."
"You insolent—"
"She's the one, Father. The woman I'm going to spend the rest of my life with. The woman who's going to bear my children,carry on our name, stand beside me when I take over this family." I straighten, my voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through my veins. "You can accept it, or you can fight me on it. But either way, it's happening."
He stares at me for a long moment. Then he walks back to his desk, pours another vodka. Drinks it. Pours another.
"She burned down one of our clubs," he says finally. "She killed Boris and Abram. The Litzchenks were allied with Boris. They want blood."
"There's no proof she did anything. The police ruled it an accident. And even if there was proof..." I pull out my phone, queue up the security footage from the night of the fire. The only copy that exists. "I'm the only one who has it."
He watches the grainy video of Katherine leaping out of the window. Out of the flames. His expression doesn't change, but I see the calculation in his eyes.
"You're protecting her with that footage."
"I'm protecting everyone with that footage. Because if it gets out, if the families find out what Boris was really doing, the scandal will destroy us all. You know as well as I do the other families will not stand for this bullshit. But if it stays buried, if Boris's death remains an unfortunate accident and his operation dies with him..." I let the implication hang. "Then we emerge clean. Tragic, but clean."
