Page 4 of Plus-Size Curves for the Bratva

Vladimir nods at the mention of his wife’s name.

“And the strategic importance of this union?"

Abram speaks up, his tone clipped. "The Orlovs control the eastern shipping routes and they were the ones to first propose this union. This marriage will cement our alliance, expanding our reach and solidifying our power base."

I nod slowly, turning the idea over in my mind. An arranged marriage is hardly unusual in our world—in fact, Vladimir found his wife through a similar arrangement, though later we learned he always had his eye on Sofia.

Still, the thought of binding myself to a stranger sends an unexpected shiver down my spine.

"Tell me about her," I say, leaning back in my chair. "What do we know of this Natalia Orlov?"

Abram's lips quirk in a small smile. "Not much, I'm afraid. She's kept out of the family business, from what we understand. Twenty-three years old, educated in New York. She insisted on living alone for a while. Beyond that…" He shrugs.

I process this information, imagining the girl—no, woman—who is to be my wife. I try to recall her from family gatherings: demure, well-bred, and never one for going out of her comfort zone, from what I recall. We’ve hardly ever exchanged more than simple hellos.

"When?" I ask simply.

Abram and Vladimir exchange surprised glances.

“What?” I ask, out of curiosity.

“Well, this went down easier than we expected,” Abram remarks.

I shrug. “There’s no point putting up a fight. We do what we must for the family and besides, there’s not one good reason not to marry her. If not now, I would have to wed someone else now, wouldn’t I? Rather it be Sofia’s sister than a complete stranger.”

“Look at you, all grown up,” Abram smiles at me with pride.

"The wedding will take place in two weeks," Vladimir replies. "The arrangements are already underway and Sofia and Lara are taking charge. Vanya is helping too."

I smile. “I wouldn’t expect anything else.”

Of course, Vanya is helping my sister and sister-in-law. The only sister of the head family, she’s kind of the closest thing to a matriarch. While Ivan leads us all in the Bratva, she takes charge when it comes to family affairs.

"Very well," I say, rising from my chair. "If that's all, my brothers, I have preparations to make."

As I turn to leave, Abram calls out, "Denis." I pause, glancing back. His expression has softened, a hint of concern in his eyes. "Are you… truly alright with this?"

I consider the question for a long moment. Am I alright with marrying a stranger? With binding myself to someone I've never met, for the sake of family and business?

I nod again, a strange mix of emotions swirling within me. Curiosity about this mysterious bride-to-be. Resignation to my duty. And underneath it all, a flickering spark of… something else. Anticipation, perhaps? I’ll never admit it, but with three of my siblings now settled down, the loneliness has crept in.

"It's our way," I reply finally, a wry smile tugging at my lips. "Who am I to break tradition?"

With that, I stride from the room.

***

I retreat to my study, seeking solitude to process this unexpected turn of events. The leather of my armchair creaks as I sink into it, running a hand through my dark hair. Natalia Orlov. The name echoes in my mind, unfamiliar yet soon to be intimately tied to my own.

"What am I getting myself into?" I mutter, staring out the window at the New York skyline.

The door creaks open, interrupting my brooding. I turn to see Sofia, Vladimir's wife, saunter in with a mischievous glint in her eye. "So, Brother," she teases, perching on the edge of my desk. "I hear congratulations are in order."

I arch an eyebrow at her. "News travels fast."

She laughs, a tinkling sound that lightens the atmosphere. "Oh, Denis. You have no idea what you're in for with this one."

My interest piques. "Should I be worried?”

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