Page 7 of Arranged Marriage By the Bratva

“No, no. I promise this is a peaceful meeting. At least I intend it to be. Please. Sit.” He gestures to the chair as I sit down, regarding him with frigid caution.

“Okay. I’m seated. What do you want?” I feel like a pawn in a chess game, but this bitch doesn’t know I’m the queen.

Nikk’s jaw twitches, danger radiating from his aura. “Let’s start with a clean slate. I first want to apologize for Yegor. His comments were a little insensitive.”

I let the undercurrent of my internal volcano simmer, thinking of Matteo and all the carnage that’s already occurred. “Insensitive is an understatement,” I cut back at him, the waiter taking our drink order while Saro looks over to our table. Traitor, but it’s nothing in business and to be expected.

Nikk’s silent for a beat, his hooded eyes boring into mine. I break the gaze first, sipping my water. “Yes, but let’s move forward, you’ve done damage to him too.”

“Good.”

Nikk grins. “Hmm,” he hums, my body responding in a way I’m not familiar with. I ignore it. “What were you doing on the yacht?”

“What were the Orlovs doing on the yacht?”

“Okay, I’ll go first. We are looking to break into the alcohol industry.”

I nod. “Interesting.”

“Yes. We could use your help with the lemon trade side of things. Vodka.”

“Ah, I see.”

“I’ve shown you mine, now it’s time for you to show me yours, Donna.” His emphasis on calling me Donna isn’t lost on me.

Oh, is this the game we’re playing?

Sighing, I answer reluctantly. “I’m wanting to establish the Mancini footing in the nightclub trade. New York is a location we’re looking at, and a few other international cities. Including possibly here.” If he’s going to put his cards on the table, at least I can do the same.

Nikk’s mouth cracks into a smile. “See, we’re getting somewhere now. How about we do a deal where we go in fifty-fifty? I help you buy into the New York nightclub scene. It is our turf. You’re going to need our help, and you won’t be able to do it without us. You know that. Even if you do a deal with my friend, Saro here. You’re going to have to come through me,” he rasps, the snake in Nikk coming out.

Fuck. I’m trapped. But so is he….

“Alright, and let’s just say I agree with this trade-off, what else does it entail to secure it? How are we going to guarantee a peace treaty and no double crossing?”

Nikk scratches his chin, moving the saltshaker around on the table as our entrée, which I didn’t order, arrives. “Marriage,” he blurts out.

Sucker punched and alarmed at his proposal, a small shoot of water spurts from my mouth. “Huh? Marriage?”

He nods again, not missing a beat as he slices into his swordfish. “Yes. Marriage. Our families have fought and fought for decades. We have both lost men, resources, and important deals on both sides. It’s about time we put an end to it. We can help one another, and it would only be for a year.”

A year of marriage to a traitorous Orlov. A flutter of excitement flourishes in my stomach as I consider the idea. “Only one year?”

“Yes. Enough time for us to establish the peace treaty and warm up to one another. Thereafter we can divorce and go our separate ways, keeping the peace treaty.”

I slice through my fish, enjoying the buttery sauce it’s swimming in. It’s a smart idea, and if I do want to take back New York City slowly but surely, going through Nikk is the best way.

Placing my fork down gently, I offer him my hand. “Deal.”

“Deal.” We eat in silence for a moment as I stare across at the face of a stone-cold killer and Russian thug. Can I pretend to love this man for a year?

This is going to be one hell of a personal challenge.

Chapter Six

Nikk

I spread my hands out over the back of the leather couch in our private jet, a giant smile on my face a week later. My ingenious plan worked and now I’ve got the Mancini Donna eating out of the palm of my hand. And she’s going to be doing it for the next year, but with what I have in mind, it’s going to be longer than that.

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