Page 17 of Forced Marriage Vows

“Which is?” I ask when the Don doesn’t stop him.

“It’s simple, really. I’d like the chance to kill Igor Vasiliev,” he answers, just as I’d been expecting him to.

I understand his need for revenge, really I do. Igor murdered his mother in the worst way. That being said, I can’t help the uneasy feeling that settles in my chest at the thought of Igor’s death. I feel no sympathy for the man, of course. He’s been nothing but a lying, cheating, lazy waste of space in all his years of being Pakhan.

My worries are more inclined toward his children. Anthony might claim to hate his father, but I know for a fact that he’d care if anything happened to him. That’s how family works. Andthat’s not to even consider Anastasia. She’d be heartbroken if Igor died.

I know there’s not much I can do to change Igor’s fate, however. I just wish there was another way I could go through with this without losing my best friend.

I can’t admit any of that right now, though. It would spell weakness. So instead I smile and offer Adrian a short nod.

“As you wish. You’ll get first dibs.”

He turns his grin to the Don. “Yeah, I definitely like him.”

When Nicolas looks at me, I can tell he’s trying to figure me out. Perhaps determine my secret motivations. But I’m hardly a complicated man. The only thing that drives me is success.

He’ll have the chance to learn that later. Right now, we have a battle to plan. Because considering all the meetings we’ve had in the past couple of days, there’s no way Igor hasn’t figured out we’re moving against him. He’s at least suspicious by now. Which means we have very little time before he makes a move of his own.

The first time I met Anthony Vasiliev, I absolutely hated his guts. He reminded me of a puppy, a golden retriever wagging his tail at everyone. Anthony’s always had this bright light that just sucks people in. Then I got to know him and I realized he was just as messed up as me. He and I had similar scars, he just found a way to live in spite of them.

He was a fourteen-year-old from a family of murderers, the most dangerous family in the Bratva—and somehow, he still managed to keep that light. It was intriguing. It’s why I didn’t tell him to fuck off that first day when he offered me a peanut butter sandwich at lunch. I wanted to get to know what made him tick.I wanted to see if I could push him into breaking into the deep dark part of himself that he keeps hidden.

I wanted to see if I could push him into becoming like me. More than a decade down the road and I still haven’t been able to succeed. I thought I’d be able to corrupt him, but the truth is, he’s done more corrupting of the two of us.

My best friend is my sounding board. He keeps me from going over the edge and completely losing myself. Anthony’s worked hard to ensure I don’t become the worst version of myself. If I told him what my plan was, he’d tell me to stop before I went too far. But I can’t tell him—not when it’s a plan concerning the members of his family.

“And then out of nowhere, the ball just flies toward me.” Anthony’s voice buzzes through the speaker, excitement practically leaking through the phone. I tune back in to his riveting story. “I mean, everyone around me is scrambling, right? Total chaos. But I, being the graceful, athletic god that I am, just reach up—bam! One-handed catch. Crowd goes wild.”

I roll my eyes, even though he can’t see me. “You caught a ball, Anthony. A ball. Congratulations.”

“Hey, hey! You weren’t there, man. This was legendary. People will talk about it for years.”

“I’m sure they will,” I say dryly, leaning back in my chair. “It’ll go down in history next to… what? The moon landing? World War II? Anthony catches a baseball. Incredible.”

“Exactly! Now you’re getting it.” He laughs, not the least bit deterred by my sarcasm.

That’s the thing about Anthony. Nothing sticks to him. He’s like sunshine coated in Teflon. I rub a hand over my face, glancing out the window of my home office. I’m supposed to be reviewing the applications for the new interim CEO for Vortex. It’s proving more difficult than I expected.

“So what about you? What’s going on in the life of Mikhail ‘Too Serious for Fun’ Morozova?” Anthony asks, amusement lacing his voice. “Please tell me you’ve done something besides brood in your cave of darkness.”

You have no idea all that I’ve done, Ant.

“I don’t brood,” I mutter, though it’s useless to argue with him. “And it’s not a cave. It’s called working. You should try it sometime.”

“Oh, I do work. I work very hard at living my best life.”

“I’m sure you do.” I smirk.

He actually does work. He’s into crypto trading. He earns a lot of money through strategic investments. He also has some other investments on the side. For example, he has a huge stake in my company. Which means whether I like it or not, he’ll be made aware of the change that’s coming.

And the reasons for the change.

“Whatever. When are you coming back to L.A.?” Anthony questions. “We need to go out for drinks. You, me, a night out. It’ll be fun. You remember fun, right?”

“I vaguely recall the concept,” I reply. “But I can’t come to L.A. yet. I have an idea though. Why don’t you fly out to Chicago?”

“Why? What’s in Chicago?” Anthony asks blandly, the excitement in his voice dampening.

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