Page 4 of Mafia King's Bride

I let the silence hang, their doubt filling the room like the stench of Alexey’s cigar. Only then do I speak. “I’ve heard whispers. Some gangs think the Bratva doesn’t belong here. They plan to run us into the ground, starting with the largest groups. I don’t take threats lightly, and we’ve all seen our power challenged before. We may have our differences but we’re brothers. We should solidify our dominance before they make their move.”

Alexey takes another slow puff, his eyes calculating. “If you’re really doing this for the Bratva, why not involve the otherpakhans? Like your father-in-law.” He sneers at the words, pushing a clear button. “Nikolai Petrov might be disgraced, but he still commands respect on his side of the city. You gonna work with him?”

I feel my jaw tighten, the muscle twitching with the effort it takes to remain composed. My hands clench under the desk as his words slice through the air.

Nikolai Petrov. The traitor.

“Never,” I hiss, the word cutting the air like a blade. “He’s a disgrace to the Bratva, and I don’t work with men who break our code.”

Alexey blows another smoke ring, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “The code? If I recall, Orlov, when someone tries to steal what’s yours, you cut off his arms, his legs, and ensure he never tries again. But you didn’t do that, did you? Instead, you married his daughter. To the rest of the world, you’re partners with the Petrovs now.”

He’s poking at an open wound, and he knows it. The truth is, in the Bratva, a marriage between two families is seen as a strengthening of bonds. A sign of unity.

But that’s not what this is. Not for me.

I lean forward, locking eyes with Alexey, my voice low and dangerous. “I didn’t marry Anastasia to strengthen anything. I married her to destroy him. I took the one thing that matters to Nikolai Petrov. His daughter is mine now, and when he dies, there’ll be no one left to inherit his empire.”

I seethe flicker of understanding in their eyes as the truth settles in.

This isn’t about partnership. This is about annihilation.

Igor chuckles, shaking his head in admiration. “I have to admit, I didn’t see that coming. Taking the one thing he cares about? That’s cold, even for you, Orlov.”

Alexey leans back, taking a final drag of his cigar before stubbing it out on the edge of my desk. “Clever. Ruthless.” He pauses, a smile tugging at his lips. “And here I thought you’dgone soft after marriage. But I’m in. It’d be stupid to say no, considering your new...influence.”

I let a slow, predatory smile creep across my face. I’ve won them over. I’ve got them right where I want them.

Before the wedding, Alexey would have fought me tooth and nail, and Igor would’ve stayed on the sidelines, waiting to see which way the wind blew. But now? Now that I have Anastasia Petrov under my thumb, now that the world believes I’m in league with her father?

I hold all the cards.

They think they’re aligning with me for power. They don’t realize they’re just pawns in my game. And once Nikolai Petrov is gone, every last piece of his empire will fall to me. No one will dare challenge me.

The game isn’t over. It’s only just begun.

Hours later,with the sun already sunk beneath the clouds, I pull into the driveway of my mansion on Long Island, the weight of the day pressing heavily on my shoulders. The headlights sweep across the pristine lawn as I park the car near the house, killing the engine with a press of my finger. My valet is already there, stepping forward to take the fob from my hand without a word. I nod in acknowledgment and head inside.

The door swings open before I even reach it, and Janet, my housekeeper, greets me with a polite nod, her posture rigid and professional as always.

“Welcome, sir.”

“Thank you, Janet,” I reply, shrugging out of my coat. She takes it from me with a practiced motion.

I move swiftly through the foyer, my footsteps echoing through the expansive hallway, heading past the grand double staircase. My room is on the third floor, and Ana’s is located on the second. A deliberate arrangement. I wanted distance between us. Enough privacy to avoid unnecessary run-ins because there’s no reason for us to interact more than necessary. She’s my wife only in name, nothing more.

“Your dinner is ready in the dining room, sir,” Janet says as I reach the base of the stairs.

I shake my head, not even slowing my pace. “Not tonight. Just bring me water.”

“Yes, sir.”

My foot touches the first step, but something stops me cold. A thought that sneaks in, unwelcome and persistent. I turn my head slightly, the words leaving my mouth before I can stop them.

“Janet.”

She pauses, looking up. “Yes, sir?”

“My… wife.” The word feels foreign, uncomfortable. “Did she eat?”

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