Page 52 of Vendetta Vows

"She's fifteen," I snap. "Still a child."

"As I'm well aware, Ruslan Vitalyevich." His eyes never leave mine, cold and calculating. "Which is why I wanted to see you personally."

"Speak plainly, Gregor Iosifovich." My voice is calm despite the rage building inside me. "It's been a long fucking day."

"I'm here to formally offer you control of the Dragunov Bratva."

"Vitaly disowned me from the bratva succession," I remind him, my voice steady despite the storm of emotions churning inside me. "I have no claim."

Gregor waves his hand dismissively, as if my father's decree were nothing more than an annoying fly.

"TheZapadniye Vorican override a pakhan's decision," he says, "especially a dead one."

His tone suggests this is merely a formality. A small obstacle easily overcome. But I know men like Gregor Belov never show their full hand.

"What else?" I press.

"I've already spoken with Semyon Mikonov about this offer to you." Gregor's pale blue eyes crinkle slightly at the corners.

My fingers tighten imperceptibly on the armrests.

Of course.

The chess pieces are already moving.

That's the fucking way it goes in this world.

"Semyon has made it clear that he will agree to yielding the title of pakhan to you only if the existing ceasefire pact between your families remains intact."

I don't need him to spell it out. "He wants me to marry Tamara?"

The words hang between us like a guillotine blade, and I can suddenlysmellthe nauseating scent of Tamara's perfume clinging to me.

Gregor doesn't answer immediately, which is all the confirmation I need.

"What happens if I say no?" I ask.

"To which part? Being pakhan or marrying your sister-in-law?"

"Both."

Gregor's pale eyes narrow slightly. He rubs his thumb against his index finger. It's the only sign of impatience in his otherwise impeccable composure.

"If you choose to reject this offer, then control of the Dragunov Bratva passes to Mikayla Lvovna, and she will inevitably be ruled by Semyon." Gregor replies, his voice dropping lower. "The Mikonovs have been waiting for this opportunity for nineteen years."

My jaw tightens. Of course they have. Semyon has never forgiven my father for forcing Denis to kneel in submission.

"With all due respect, Gregor Iosifovich, that doesn't sound like my problem."

"Semyon is dangerously close to the Triads and their money." Gregor's voice hardens to steel. "If Mikayla Lvovna inherits the bratva, he will be too powerful to control."

"Again." A humorless laugh escaping my lips. "That doesn't sound like my problem."

Gregor's eyes narrow, and I know I've miscalculated.

"Lev has three daughters who all share the same claim," he reminds me, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "If you allow Mikayla Lvovna to inherit, then I will have no choice but to find men willing to marry the other two. Men who will gladly back their claims."

The blood in my veins turns to ice.

---