Page 4 of Beautiful Beast

I look him straight in the eye. “What attitude?”

His face contorts with so much anger before he slaps me again. I know I’m pushing his buttons.

But I do it to protect Nadia. If my father’s focus is on me, he can’t hurt her.

“Please stop,” Nadia begs.

“I’ll only stop when your sister stops being rude.”

I stare my father down. He might hurt me, but he doesn’t frighten me. There’s no way he’d ever want me to be truly hurt because I’m a political asset for him. He can use me one day to make an alliance with any man he wants. Both Nadia and me.

That’s the part that terrifies me. I don’t want Nadia to be used in our father’s schemes.

“Are you done?” he asks, staring right back. Neither of us backs down.

“Never.”

He grabs my arm again and pulls me roughly against him. “You will learn to act with some fucking manners. I have big plans for you.”

“What?”

“It’s time for you to perform your duty to this family.”

A cold dead weight settles in my stomach. “Which is?” I know what it is before he even says it.

“You’re finally getting married.”

At twenty, it’s long overdue within the world of the Bratva. Women tend to marry at eighteen or nineteen. As a twenty year old, I might as well be a spinster. Nadia is seventeen, meaning she still has time before she’s sold into marriage.

But a year is a short amount of time.

“To who?” I demand.

“Does it matter?” He lets me go by pushing me away. I stumble, and my hip slams against the counter. I don’t wince, though. I never show my father the pain he causes me. It would give him too much satisfaction.

“Yes, it matters. I know why you’re doing this. You’re trading me for power. So, who did you sign my soul away to?”

“Erik Koslov.”

I almost throw up.

I’ve never met Erik Koslov, but I’ve heard of him. I’ve heard of the dark, brutal things he does to his enemies. I’ve heard rumors that he likes to skin people alive. That he likes to pull out people’s innards and eat them before their very eyes.

I’m sure some of it is exaggerated.

I hope anyway.

“Why him?” I ask, trying to keep my voice from breaking.

“Because he’s been gaining more influence throughout New York over the past few years. He would be a good ally. We could run this city together. If those damn Italians leave us alone.”

The Bratva, the Russian Mafia—has been at war with the Italians for decades. Ever since New York became New York.

“How are you going to gain power?”

“Through our shared assets, we’ll grow our businesses, double our guards, and triple our strength.”

“Can’t you do it without me?”

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