Page 11 of Bound to the Bratva
Maxim
Never did I think I'd be on a private jet, flying to Chicago to meet the bastard daughter of the Zuyev family, but here I am.
I sit in a plush seat on the jet, taking deep breaths, trying to not let my anger get the best of me. Why would my father think it's acceptable for me, the man who will inherit the Bratva, to marry some lowlife scum like her.
It doesn't make any sense to me. I do my best to shove every thought in the back of my mind and focus on the jet around me.
As the jet soars through the vast expanse of the sky, I try to find some solace in the exquisite interior that envelops me. My father informed me that this aircraft is now my private jet, which is something I never had before.
It's a newer model, not even released to the public for sale yet. The luxurious furnishings exude opulence, a stark contrast to the battle within me. I am trying not to be so angry about my father's actions, but I am. Why couldn't he agree to marry me off to a proper Russian heiress? Why did it have to be a bastard?
Soft, supple white leather adorns every surface, hugging my body in its comforting embrace. The seat beneath me has me feeling like it's forming around my body, giving me the ultimate comfort.
Glancing around with a mix of curiosity and disdain, my eyes fall upon the intricately designed black panels that adorn the cabin walls. Each panel seems to have been meticulously hand-carved by a master craftsman, their patterns oozing wealth and power in the process. Sophistication surrounds me, and if my father is trying to buy my obedience, he's got a good start.
Above me, an ornate modern chandelier hangs from the ceiling like a radiant jewel. Its crystal droplets shimmer and dance in response to the vibration of the jet's engines.
As I reach out to run my fingers over the polished surface of the oak table in front of me, I spot my reflection. Upon staring at myself, I know there's no way I can escape what awaits me in Chicago. I will be marrying the Zuyev girl, whether I want to or not. My father has ordered it, and so I will do as he commands.
I'm at the point in my life where I know if I disobey him enough, he will not pass the role down to me. I know my father better than anyone else. He's the type to hand it to someone else just to spite me, even if it means wiping the Volkolv line from the power entirely.
I should be landing within two hours, and once I do, I'm sure there will be a car waiting for me to take me to the Zuyev home. I was told that I'd be having dinner with their family, meeting the woman I'm supposed to marry in the process.
"Are you getting excited?" My father questions, peering up from his laptop.
Excited? Far from it. "I'm anxious to meet her," And, I am. I want to know everything there is to know about her. "You know, you haven't even told me her name."
"Aria," my father answers.
"Aria," I repeat, expecting this name from an Italian, and not a Russian.
"Yes. From my understanding, her mother named her and her father had no input."
"Hmm," Ballsy for a mistress to do.
"Would you like to see a photo of her?"
My father pulls out his phone and shows me a picture of Aria Zuyev. As I stare at her image, I can't help but feel a pang of curiosity. She's unmistakably beautiful, with long midnight hair cascading down her shoulders and piercing ice gray eyes that seem to hold a world of secrets. Her lips are full and inviting, hinting at a sensual nature that intrigues me. Despite the circumstances that brought us together, I find myself strangely drawn to her.
"I must admit, she's stunning," I say, unable to hide my surprise. "But looks can be deceiving. What else do you know about her?"
My father's eyes flicker with a mix of sorrow and regret. "Not much, Maxim. She led a rather sheltered life under her mother's care. Her father wasn't in the picture too much. According to our sources, she possesses a sharp intellect and is one of the best pediatric oncologists in the country."
I nod, absorbing this information as we continue our journey toward Chicago. Questions swirl in my mind, drowning out the engine roar of the jet. What kind of person is Aria? Will she be willing to embrace this arranged marriage as I am forced to? Or, will she make this hard for me? If she does, I have no problem making her life a living hell.
As the jet begins its descent, my heart quickens its pace. Soon enough, I will come face-to-face with Aria Zuyev and the future that awaits us both. Stepping out onto the tarmac, I shield my eyes against the bright afternoon sun and make my way toward the waiting car.
The driver opens the door for me, his expression stoic and impassive. Inside the sleek black sedan, are leather seats and more room than I anticipated. "How soon until we arrive?" I ask while my father slides onto the seat beside me.
"Mmm, I'd say twenty minutes. Are you warming up to the idea of marrying her?"
I have to think about my response very carefully. "It's my duty, father. It's all it will ever be. I will marry Aria, and give the Bratva heirs, but it will be nothing more than that. I'm still very much appalled that you arranged a marriage with a bastard heiress. You've yet to tell me why you want me to marry her, as opposed to a better suited option." Even my ex was a better option than Aria, yet my father never seemed interested to arrange a marriage with her.
Near the end she proved that she was pretty much insane, however, I could have managed her well. All she wanted was a title, some money, and to look nice all the time. As long as I gave her everything, I could have kept her in line.
At least, that's what I was sure about until she struck Vera. She backhanded her at a family dinner and a fight ensued. I had grabbed my sister to pull her away from the chaos and screamed at my ex to leave. She flipped her switch so fast: going from a woman ready to claw Vera's eyes out, to apologizing and saying the moment got the best of her.
The driver shuts my father's door and he gets in the driver's seat, and soon enough we're off. Within fifteen minutes we're in the heart of Chicago. A few minutes later the driver is pulling onto N. State Parkway, and he pulls to the right, in front of a colossal townhouse.
