Page 1 of Bound By Hate (Born in Blood)

Chapter

One

VIKTORIYA

Ice Queen. Frigid Bitch.

Those are just some of the names people call me.

And it’s all true. I don’t bow for any man. The men who surround me have large egos, and they don’t appreciate me putting any of them in their place. Only the best man is worthy to marry me. One of high status and wealth. One who is in control of a city and commands the people within it.Thatis the man who will win my hand.

But so far, all the men who’ve proposed marriage to me haven’t been good enough. They’re either too poor, too ugly, or not in a high-ranking Bratva position. I expect perfection. Nothing less will do.

I resist the urge to sigh as the man before me—Anatoly Sobol—goes on and on about his college education. “Yale really is the best school,” he says, puffing his chest out. “It’s the best way to make connections and grow your wealth. I had a wonderful time there. Do you have a formal education, Miss Morozova?”

I snap back to what he’s saying when I realize he just asked me a question. Enough is enough. “Anatoly, I’m going to be honest with you. I don’t care one wit about Yale. I don’t care about the acapella group you were in or the secret society you joined. I don’t care about the women you dated.” I know all this because he just spent the past fifteen minutes telling me all about it. “What I care about is having a husband who will provide for me. Care for me.”

“I can do that,” Anatoly says eagerly.

I hold up my hand. “I wasn’t finished.” I start ticking off my fingers. “I need you to be a high-status man. You currently work for the Bratva of New York, but you’re not a boss. You’re not in charge. I need a man who is. And frankly, you’re not as wealthy as I am, meaning you don’t add anything to my life. You’re wasting my time. Now, I would like it if you left my house.” I pause. “Straight away.”

Anatoly blinks like he can’t believe what I just said. That’s something I’ve noticed about men—they really are in shock when I speak. I’m not a wilting wallflower. I am a queen of my castle, and I deserve a king at my side.

“Are you deaf?” I ask. “Leave.”

He slowly stands up and starts walking away. Before he leaves the living room, I hear him mutter, “Bitch,” under his breath. As if I haven’t heard that before.

The moment he’s gone, I sigh in relief and settle back on the large couch in my spacious living room. It’s a surreal thought that this large house ismyhouse now.

All because my parents are dead.

They died a few months ago, and since then, my world has been in chaos. Mine and my sisters’ lives. Because I’m the oldest, they left me the house.

Though I’m the oldest, I’m still unmarried, while my younger sister, Sofiya, is in Russia living happily ever after with herhusband, Mikhail. Now, Mikhail was a man worthy of me. Head of the Bratva in Moscow, he commanded everyone’s attention when he entered a room. Handsome and wealthy, he would have made a perfect match for me.

But he had eyes only for Sofiya.

I tried not to let it sting, but it did. I may be an ice queen, but I still have a heart, and rejection hurts more than almost anything.

Almost.

Losing my parents was the hardest part of my life, next to losing Sofiya to Mikhail. I reject men, not the other way around. I’ll be damned if any other man thinks he can do that to me again.

I sigh and fluff my light blonde hair. It’s practically platinum all on its own. I prefer not to dye my hair. What you see is what you get from me. I don’t sugarcoat anything.

I’m not surprised Anatoly was a bust. I only entertained him because I was curious about what he had to say, and once again, he disappointed me. No man will live up to me. I just may have to resign myself to becoming a crazy cat lady. The problem is—I fucking hate cats. All animals, really. They’re smelly and leave fur everywhere. I’m sorry, but I refuse to have cat hair clinging to my clothes.

At twenty-five, I’moldin the eyes of the Bratva. The men who are a part of our world expect young, obedient wives. Freshly eighteen and innocent. A lot like my youngest sister, Mila, who’s currently in her room practicing ballet like I told her to.

I could go out and find a man to have sex with. It’s not like I’ve never thought about it before. But when my father was still alive, he made sure my life was consumed with ballet and nothing else. Ballet and the Bratva have been my life. No man ever fit into it.

Until both my parents died at the same time—a bullet to both their brains. Their killer was finally caught: some guy trying to rob them. It wasn’t even a rival Bratva member who wanted to take my father down. It was just bad luck.

My father, Denis Morozova, was head of the Bratva of New York, making me its princess. He kept a tight fist over my life, but now that he’s gone, I have more freedom. I can find a man to have sex with whenever I want. I know I’m beautiful. It’s not egotistical to state what’s true.

I just have an aversion to men who aren’t good enough for me. That keeps me from having sex with any of them. Mikhail was the only man who ever lit a slight spark inside me, but that quickly vanished when he set his sights on Sofiya.

Now, I’m stuck trying to find a husband to protect Mila and me. An unmarried woman in the Bratva is always at risk.

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