Page 35 of Claimed By the Bratva Brothers

“However, he also recognizes the importance of tradition, honor, and respect. All three, he says, were lacking when you ended our relationship, Max. At least, that’s how he sees it.”

“And I suppose you didn’t give him all the spicy details about that breakup,” I say, half-smiling. “Or about the relationship itself.”

“For everyone’s safety, obviously not.”

“So basically, we’re still stuck at this stalemate, with your father thinking the worst of us, even though you’re the one who ruined everything,” I reply.

Polina offers a slight shrug. “I guess you choose to remember things differently.”

“You betrayed us, Polina. There’s nothing to remember differently,” Artur snaps. “Now, what does your father want for White Plains, other than money? Out with it.”

“He’s proposing an alliance,” she says. “A business alliance, between our families.”

Ivan, Artur, and I remain quiet for a long moment, exchanging wary glances. Ivan was right. We know where this is going, and I dread that I have to even consider entertaining what’s about to come out of Polina’s mouth. I should’ve seen it coming since the house party.

“An alliance through marriage,” she continues. “I marry you, Max, and in return, not only will my family sell you White Plains for the price you offered, but we’ll also give you our full support within and outside the Bratva. We’re prepared to renounce our own ties to Bowman’s people, if you agree to these terms.”

Ivan snorts. “You’re out of your fucking mind.”

“Am I?” she asks, giving him a long, slightly amused look. “I would’ve imagined you being the most eager to rekindle this fire. I may be marrying Max on legal paper, but intimately, it would be the four of us again.”

“That’ll never happen,” Artur cuts in. “You made sure of it.”

“Why dredge up the past? I’m offering you a better option for the future,” she replies, still irritatingly confident in her proposal.

I don’t know what upsets me more, the audacity of the proposal, or the fact that it does—at least from a business perspective—make a lot of sense. Were it not for Lyric, I probably would’ve considered it, if only for a moment. But as things are, it’s an absolute no from all three of us.

However, we can’t just shut Polina down either. We still need her and her father’s support, and both Artur and Ivan know it, which is why they stay quiet and let me do the talking.

“Polina, you’re well aware that no matter how you try and sugar coat it, you wronged us in the past. You made us out to be the villains because of our complicated relationship, and we allowed it because we couldn’t—and still can’t—afford a scandal of such magnitude. Not when we’re skating on thin ice while trying to move the Bratva into more legitimate fields of business,” I say. “It doesn’t change the truth, though. You betrayed us. I hope you don’t think you’re going to play us again.”

Polina shakes her head slowly. “My father was the one who suggested it. Not me. In fact, I spoke against it, but he said I should ask you, either way.”

“Why do I find that hard to believe?”

She laughs lightly. “Oh, Max, believe what you want. But these are the only terms he is offering. Do not blame the old man for wanting to marry me into the Sokolov dynasty. It would bring the Larionov’s nothing but prestige and future wealth. Combining our bloodlines would make us stronger against everyone, including the smaller families of Chicago.”

“And I’m guessing that your father’s connections within the legal system would suddenly become available and useful to us against the Feds once I put a Sokolov ring on your finger?” I ask.

Polina nods once. “Of course.”

“We’ll think about it,” I say.

“We will?” Artur gasps, giving me a troubled look.

“We will,” I insist, keeping my gaze glued to Polina’s. The air is so thick between us, almost unbreathable. Years ago, I would’ve given her the moon. Yet now, I just want to get her out of here, sooner rather than later.

She stands up, a perky smile curling her scarlet red lips. “You’re seriously considering it? That’s wonderful news.”

“Give us time,” I say. “You’ll have your answer soon.”

“You know where to reach me.”

She walks out, her chin up and stiletto heels clicking defiantly across the hardwood floor, as Ivan, Artur, and I watch her get into the elevator. Once the doors slide shut, and she’s out of our sight, Ivan rushes to close the office door, then turns around to glower at me.

“Are you fucking kidding me? ‘We’ll think about it?’” he hisses.

“What did you want me to say? Fuck no, straight away?” I ask him, feeling my blood pressure rise. I’m angry because Polina has found a way to make our lives harder at a time when we desperately need the opposite. “We need her and the old man. We need White Plains. We need to think about it.”

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