Page 4 of Bound By Hate (Born in Blood)

Vera takes a sip of her drink slowly before setting it back down. I hate this woman for making me wait for an answer.“Oh, well, because you’re so beautiful. Anyone can tell. But you haven’t found a husband. Your younger sister did, but … not you.”

Reminding me Sofiya got married before me is a deliberate slap to my face.

“Didn’t you have your sights set on her husband?” Darya asks.

I almost choke on my stupid cucumber sandwich. “What gave you that idea?”

“Oh, honey,” Vera says, waving her hand. “It was obvious to everyone. When you broke your ankle, everyone was talking about it and how Mikhail Ivanov was there, and you reached out for him, but he walked away. Straight to your sister.” She can’t even hide her vindictive smile.

I try not to remember that day. That super painful day. There was the obvious pain of my broken ankle, but the internal pain of knowing Mikhail didn’t want anything to do with me hurt just as much. I have no love lost for him. I never loved him.

I was just … attracted to him. On paper, he would have made the perfect husband for me.

But he chose Sofiya, and I accepted that. I don’t want Mikhail any longer. But I wouldn’t mind a man just as powerful as him. No, Idemanda man just as powerful.

That man just doesn’t exist yet.

“Mikhail and Sofiya make a good couple,” I say. “He loves her, and she loves him. I’ve seen firsthand how he’s gone out of his way to make sure she’s safe.” That’s all true. When Sofiya and Mila were kidnapped, I saw how much Mikhail fought for her. I know she’s in good hands with him. Despite the fact that Sofiya and I never really got along growing up, I would never wish her ill will. I want her to be happy.

I just want to be happy more. Is that too much to ask for?

“Well, that’s wonderful,” Vera says, sitting back in her seat with a slight look of disappointment in her eyes. “Just wonderful.”

“It is,” I say, smiling back.

She leans against the table quickly, like she got a second wind. “But doesn’t it upset you? I mean, you’re … what? Thirty now? And you’re still not married?” Vera slowly shakes her head, catching the attention of the other women, who all shake their heads as well. “Don’t you feel a little ashamed about that?”

“I’m twenty-five,” I remind her.

“Oh!” She clasps her hand to her chest. “My mistake.”

And people think I’m a bitch?

“If I were still single at your age,” Jasmine says, looking beautiful with her long brown hair and green eyes, “I would have been mortified. It’s a good thing I met my husband when I was nineteen.”

“I was eighteen,” Vera says.

“Eighteen as well,” Darya adds.

Olga sits up straighter in her seat with a smug smile. “I was seventeen.”

All four of the women laugh. “You have us beat!” Vera says.

I can only watch and fight back the sudden urge to cry. Never in a million years would I expect four frivolous middle-aged women to make me feel bad about being unmarried. It’s unconventional within the Bratva. I know this.

And that’s why their words sting.

Because, while I want a man worthy of me and I refuse to settle for just anyone, I’m also riddled with embarrassment at being unmarried at twenty-five. It signals to these women there’s something wrong with me.

Ihatewhen someone thinks I’m defective. These women are implyingI’mthe problem, not the men. That I’m the one who isn’t good enough.

Utter fucking blasphemy.

“You know,” I say, interrupting their laughter, “I think it’s a good thing I’m still single. No man is worthy of me. All you ladies should know that. My father was the leader of the Bratva. I have men clamoring to be with me.”

“Maybe that was true before when your father was alive,” Vera says. “But ever since he died, all I’ve been hearing about is how his eldest daughter keeps pushing men away with her attitude. If you want to attract a man, Viktoriya, you need to be subservient. There’s no use in thinking you’re better. Because you’re not.”

I blink.

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