Page 3 of Guarded Rebellion

2

EVA

Ican’t wait to leave home.

Home. As if this place could be called such a kind name. These four walls didn’t resemble a place of love and comfort. Luxury could be found in the Baranov mansion just outside of New York City proper. Riches. Drapings of wealth and displays of high-quality… everything.

My uncle, Oleg Baranov, wastheBoss. Under his hand, he saw to our prominence in the city. Just like he ensured we would never want for anything. But with that came something that seemed a lot like imprisonment. This wasn’t a home. It was a prison cell.

“Eva, why would you want to give this up?” my father asked. Boris Baranov had long lost his state of prime. Haggard and tired, he lifted the crystal glass of vodka. Lines of wrinkles bracketed his mouth as he sipped his ever-present vice. Before he could lower the tumbler, he let out another one of those exasperated, all-suffering sighs. LikeIwas the reason he was an alcoholic.

I crossed my arms, too defiant to lose hope in this argument. Even though my uncle had left to take a call, I wasn’t in any position to give up. Surrendering wasn’t an option. As soon as hecame back into this room, I’d reiterate why I should be granted permission to go to college.

“Why wouldn’t I?” I challenged my worthless father.

He grunted a weak, single laugh. “What’s so wrong about living here? What’s so terrible about being a Mafia princess? You have everything you could possibly want or need. Your allowance has no limit.”

I want something money can’t buy.I narrowed my eyes on him, all too aware that he wouldn’t understand. My father had never aspired to do anything but drink. He’d never cared to experience anything but supreme laziness.

“You are protected here.” He arched a brow, as if waiting for a challenge on that note.

I am confined and trapped here.

“There is nothing you can gain from going to college.” Like every other time I tried to make my case to go to college, he tacked on a silly little chuckle. As though I were requesting something ridiculous and frivolous.

“I can gain an education.”

“Bah. What the fuck for, Eva?”

I pressed my lips tighter together to compress the urge to scream. “Because I want to.” I never took my wealth for granted, but as those words came out of my mouth, I heard the spoiled-brat tone of them. Going to college wasn’t a matter of wanting to study English. It was becoming a matter of needing to do something for myself for once in my life. To break out of this mold and embrace a sliver of freedom and independence.

“You have one purpose, Daughter. One.”

Tipping my chin higher, I looked to the side. Refusing to make eye contact wasn’t exactly a power play here. Not with him. From how slurred his speech, he was five minutes from passing out anyway, too drunk to function as a logical adult.

“You will be married. Sooner or later, Oleg will find you a husband. And then after that…” He raised one hand and rolled it in a clumsy flick. “Then you will bear him children. Hopefully, sons.”

Rage boiled within me, scaling higher and hotter as I tried my hardest not to lose my composure. Since I was a child, it had been ingrained in me to be proper and never talk back. Never show my anger. No tantrums—ever. Bottling in my emotions only set me up to near explosion, though. Because as I let his familiar reminder sink into my mind, I detested the future he painted for me.

To be bartered off in marriage. To be a fucking broodmare. What was there to desire in that kind of a life sentence?

Maybe that’s why Sonya left. She didn’t want to be stuck in this life either.I bit my lip harder at the thought of my older sister who’d disappeared many years ago. Envy accompanied my anger at my father’s words. My heart raced faster with the jealousy that she might have been spared such a confining, loveless life of being a married off broodmare. My mother had vanished the same day, and I had never fully reached a state of forgiveness. If she’d left and only taken Sonya to spare her, what did that mean? That she didn’t give a shit about me? That she was fine with leaving me in the Baranov family to ultimately face an arranged marriage and the expectation to pop out babies?

“Having a college degree doesn’t preclude me from marriage and becoming a mother,” I argued evenly. I wanted to scream it, among many profanities. I wished I could roar and tell him with all the decibels I could muster the energy for.

“Adegree?” He spluttered on his next sip, rolling his eyes. “For fuck’s sake, Eva. Why? I thought you just wanted to go for a few classes because you’re bored.”

Iwasbored, so damn stagnant in my life that I was becoming obsessed with the thought of getting out of here.

“Yes, a degree,” I bit out. I had yet to lower my chin. “I don’t do anything halfway. If I attend classes at the university, I intend to do so successfully and obtain a degree.”

“But you won’t do anything with it!” He chortled, licking his lips as his vodka spilled. Already, droplets were wetting his shirt that was strained too tightly over his body. Fat, not muscles, thickened his barrel chest. I wasn’t sure if he fancied himself as a modern-day Dionysius or what. All I saw when I had to make eye contact was a waste of space.

“This is nonsense,” he drawled, again lifting his hand in that dismissive wave. “Why bother with going for any classes or any degree when you can’t use it?”

“I could,” I replied.

“How? When?” He narrowed his eyes, squinting as though he couldn’t understand who the hell I was anymore. “You will be married. You will have a family. What will you do with this fancy degree you want? Huh? Just to look at a pretty diploma?” He grinned as he lifted his glass again. “We’ll forge one, all right? I understand the allure of wanting trophies to admire. We can get you a diploma.”

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