Page 6 of Arranged to Marry the Bratva

With one last look at her photos, I put the pictures away in my secret drawer and get dressed. Just in time, for the moment I change into my formal oxfords for the night, the doorbell rings.

I head downstairs and find that my butler has already escorted the crew to the living room. I walk in and clear my throat. One by one, they turn to face me. Sofia, her green eyes narrow and suspicious; Dima, his brow furrowed in concern; Fedor, lips pursed in disapproval at this last-minute command to meet. Artyom and Natalia giggle as they struggle to open the champagne bottle, unaware of the tension in the room.

“What’s all this about, Nikolai?” asks Dima.

“Yeah. It’s not like we didn’t have plans,” adds Fedor. “I’m a busy man, you know?”

“And what plans did you have?” Artyom sniggers, walking over and nudging Fedor on his shoulder. “Don’t tell me another date!”

“Oh, brother,” Natalia giggles. “Haven’t you learned there’s no point if you can’t remember the names of the girls you take out to dinner?”

“Who needs a name when I never plan to see them again?” Fedor teases back.

Artyom and Natalia laugh and howl while Dima and Sofia frown in disapproval. I maintain a neutral expression, knowing how Fedor loves causing a little stir now and then.

“Plans aside,” I tell Fedor and turn to make eye contact with each party present. “I’d like to thank you all for joining me, given the last-minute nature of my invitation.”

“Oh! So that’s what you call it then?” Fedor nods his head exuberantly. “You hear that, folks? That command to be here at eight, with no excuses, was apparently an invitation, he says.”

Sofia rolls her eyes, though I can see her trying to hold back a smile. “Come on, Nikolai. You didn’t drag us all here to admire your impeccable taste in furniture. What's going on?”

I clear my throat, calling for their attention. “I have an announcement to make.” I pause, letting the weight of my words sink in as all eyes are on me. Even Artyom looks up from his phone now.

“But first,” I raise my head gently toward the bartender. Suddenly, half a dozen waitstaff gather in motion, carrying around trays to pass out glasses of champagne.

Once everyone has their glass, we gather around the fireplace, the tension palpable as I take a sip before proceeding. The silence stretches on, growing heavier with each passing second.

"Something important has come up," I finally say, meeting their gazes one by one. "An alliance that could change our lives for the better if we play our cards right."

Sofia fidgets nervously while Dima narrows his eyes. "What kind of alliance?" he asks cautiously.

"An arranged marriage," I answer, watching their reactions carefully. "To Anoushka Zolotov."

For a brief second, no one says a word. It’s like the calm before a storm, and then, it unleashes.

"Are you insane?" Sofia snaps suddenly, slamming her glass down on a small side table, the champagne spilling over. "Joining forces with our enemies? What about our family's legacy?"

"Anoushka?" Fedor sputters in disbelief. "Nikolai, have you lost your mind? She's a Zolotov!"

“Marrying Anoushka Zolotov?” Dima spits on the floor beside him. “If you keep snakes in the backyard, sooner or later, they’re bound to bite, Brother!”

They all look at each other without saying a word, but their displeasure seeps through from how the champagne remains untouched and how they refuse to meet my eye.

“Well, well, well, Brother,” Artyom grins. “Of all the ways to stir shit up… ”

"Enough, all of you!" I cut them off, my voice unyielding. "Our family's legacy is exactly why this must be done. We've spent too long fighting a losing battle against the Zolotovs. It's time for a different approach—one that ensures our survival."

Artyom looks at me dubiously. "And you think marrying Anoushka will guarantee that?"

"Absolutely," I respond, confidence radiating from every word. "With her by my side, we'll have access to the resources and connections we need to become more powerful than our parents ever dreamt us to be."

Natalia finally speaks up, her voice barely audible. "But… what if she refuses?"

"That’s out of the question." My tone leaves no room for doubt. “She’s already agreed.”

“She—what?” Sofia almost shrieks, while I notice Dima almost shake with restrained anger. I knew they wouldn’t like this. But what other choice did I have? Dima and Sofia look at each other in shock.

Fedor remains silent but gives me a small nod, his thoughts hidden behind a stoic mask. I can only hope he understands the necessity of this alliance, even if the others don't.

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