Page 4 of A Devious Arrangement

I turn over my hands. They’re stained red from blood, and I scream.

Chapter 1

Anastasia

Age 25

“I amnotgetting married,”I say firmly, concealing my hands behind my back, the sharp pain of my nails cutting into my palms the only thing holding me together.

The woman in front of me raises a perfectly arched silver brow as she takes in my response. Her intricately embroidered jacket and black slacks make her look regal as she stares down her nose at me. She’s technically my grandmother, but since this is the first time we’re meeting, she’s nothing more than a stranger.

“You’re in no position to argue, Anastasia,” she says with a hint of a lingering Russian accent.

My teeth grind together as I hold myself back. The condescension dripping from this woman’s mouth has me on edge.

My brother clutches my shoulder. “That’s not what we discussed on the phone when we agreed to meet.”

The matriarch of the Romanov family replies expressionless. “You say that as if we are the ones in need of a favor when it isyouwho requiresourhelp.”

Her words sink like a stone in my stomach. Our father’s only been dead for two weeks and has already managed to screw usover. He’d been secretly borrowing money from the Salvatore organization, piling on an insurmountable debt we didn’t know about until they came knocking on our door the day after his funeral.

The Salvatores aren’t like the Order of Saints. They don’t follow any sort of code, instead operating completely outside of the law. They’re a crime syndicate, not a secret society.

Nothing could have prepared me for the promise in their eyes that wewouldpay. That the consequences of being late would be worse than anything we could imagine. There isn’t a single ounce of me that doesn’t believe them.

The men had sat calmly in our living room as if it was just another day and not one that was turning my life upside down. It was simple. Either we pay in full, or we’d be working it off for the rest of our lives. The way they leered at me told me exactly how women pay things off in their organization.

Which brings us here, begging our estranged grandmother for help. As the head of the Romanov family, second only to the Order itself, it would be nothing to lend us the money, but she’d insisted we come to New York in person before she’d hear us out.

It seemed simple: show our faces, bow our heads, and swallow our pride. I should have known it wouldn’t be that easy. After all, it was my mother who’d betrayed them to begin with.

“Marriage won’t be necessary. Once we’ve recovered our businesses, we’ll pay you back twice over,” my brother says, his hands fisting at his sides.

My grandmother’s head tilts, disdain clear in her cold features. “Look around. Does it look to you like I need your money?”

The room’s ceiling towers over us, adorned with intricate gold designs that scream expensive. The entire house resembles more of a castle than a typical home. Our feet press against smooth marble floors, veined with warm brown tones, whilethick velvet curtains hang on either side of the windows. It’s immediately evident that every aspect of this place exudes opulence and a level of extravagance that even billionaires would envy.

It presents an image of a fairy tale. One that my mother left behind when she met my father for a love so strong it destroyed him.

The woman in front of us could be made of ice. She’s standing so still, expressionless, as she waits for us to accept our fate. She’s nothing like her daughter, who was warm and kind. My heart twists as her memory tries to invade my mind, bringing the guilt with it. I shove it down deep, but I can’t prevent the voice in the back of my head, whispering that this is all my fault.

I’d get on my knees and beg if I thought it would make a difference, but something about her tells me she’d hate that even more.

“If I get married, you’ll give us the money?” The second the words are out of my mouth, a chill runs down my spine.

“It’s a start. We can’t forget that your brother is the heir to our family, so of course he’ll have to marry too.”

“What?” I gasp, stumbling back into my brother, whose face is ghost white.

He stiffens. “I have no plans to be your heir.”

“You say that as if you have a choice. Both of you agree to marry, and we’ll provide you with the money required to save your family’s company. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? You wouldn’t have come if it wasn’t absolutely necessary.”

Dread settles in my chest, making it hard to breathe. I knew they’d demand something when we came here. It’s not like I expected to be welcomed with open arms, but not this.

Nikolai has done everything he can to save the Volkov family. He’s meant to be the one who runs it. Him giving up his future to become the heir of the Romanov family isn’t something I canlet happen. My mother escaped them for a reason, and I, for one, don’t want to know why. What I already know is they’re known for their unscrupulous behavior, and I can’t let my softhearted brother fall into that.

A shard twists beneath my ribs as a familiar guilt washes over me. I’m not blameless in this. After all, had I not asked my mother for help, she never would have died, and we wouldn’t be in this position to begin with.

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