Page 2 of Cruel Honor

I set my glass down and stand up, towering over him. “I’d like to see you try.”

Abram snaps his fingers. Both Boris and Arthur bring out lighters. They flick them open, and the flames dance menacingly around in the air.

I don’t doubt Abram is angry enough that he’ll do something stupid—like destroy my club.

But I don’t back down to pussies.

“I will not marry Tatiana, Abram,” I growl. “She was a good fuck, I’ll give her that, but nothing more. I’m not the marrying kind.”

“Think of all the power you could achieve if you married a woman of good stature. A good Bratva woman.”

“Like Tatiana?” I scoff. “Evenyoucan’t bribe me with power.”

“But you want it. I know you do. You want to be the most powerful man in all of New York City. I can help you get there. Or …” He shrugs. “I can be your adversary, Dimitri. I can make your life a living hell. So”—he pats me on the arm like we’re good pals— “marry Tatiana. It’s the smartest move you can do. She’s beautiful. Obviously, you like her. What’s the problem?”

“Like her? I can’t stand your daughter, Abram. Her voice is so fucking grating. Why do you think I had her blow me? Just to shut her up.”

Abram grabs my jacket and pulls me forward. “Marry my daughter, Dimitri. Or this entire place will go up in flames.”

Normally, I’d laugh in this fucker’s face and say “try it.” But … my club is my baby. It’s the one thing I’ve worked so hard to achieve.

I was born into the Bratva through my father. He had power before, and I took it after he left this world. But I needed to make a name for my own self, so that’s how my club came to be.

It isn’t just a club. It’s also a money laundering scheme. And it’s the place where I make deals to further grow my influence.

I can’t lose my club.

I eye the lighters in Boris and Arthur’s hands. All these fuckers have known me since I was a kid. “You would do this to me?” I ask. “To my father?”

Abram lets me go. “Your father would’ve done the right thing. He married your mother in an arranged marriage. He did it to gain power. He did it because he respected your mother. So, respect my Tatiana and marry her, Dimitri.”

I grimace. I can’t lose my club.

But I can’t marry Tatiana either.

Though Abram doesn’t need to know that. If I get married to a woman of my own choosing first, then I won’t have to marry Tatiana. Sure, Abram will be pissed. But by then, I can make sure my club is protected. Right now, it’s too vulnerable.

So, I decide to lie. I’m a fucking master at it.

I grip Abram’s shoulder and squeeze it tight enough that he flinches. Good. “Sure, Abram. I’ll get married.”

“Marryher,” he emphasizes. “You’ll marry Tatiana.”

“I’ll get married,” I repeat. “Don’t you worry.” I nod at Boris and Arthur. “You boys can close your lighters. There doesn’t need to be carnage here today.”

They flick the lighters shut and put them back in their pockets.

I let Abram go. “Now, go home to your daughter. I’ll make this right.”

He audibly sighs. “Thank you, Dimitri. You’re doing the right thing. Tatiana will make a wonderful wife.”

“I’m sure she will.” For some other poor sucker who has to listen to her grating voice all day long.

I watch Abram and the other men leave.

Then I slump back against the bar. I never let people see me vulnerable. That’s just not how a Bratva boss works.

But now that I’m alone, I can’t stop how my hands shake slightly as I pour myself a drink.

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