Page 101 of Merciless Desires

Chapter One

Anastasia Koslov – Two and a half years earlier

“You are to marry him and that is it, Anastasia,” Papa barks, his cold, blue eyes ripe with bloodlust thinking of how my arranged marriage will benefit him here in Astoria. “You are twenty-one. I promised your mother I would wait until now.”

I should be grateful he didn’t sell me at age ten like other Bratva bosses back in Russia. I was born in the homeland, but Papa moved us—Mother, my brothers, and I—here to the U.S. when we were younger.

“You also promised her I could choose my husband.”

I didn’t go to college. My father kept me as his showpiece, parading me around at fundraisers in fancy dresses and high heels. Now I know why.

“I am pakhan, and you will marry who I tell you to.” Papa turns back to his desk, stopping to stare at the photos of my brothers.

Alexovich and Sasha enshrine the walls of his dark-paneled office that smell of Turkish cigarette smoke. They were gunned down on a train ten years ago. After they were killed, Mother overdosed, leaving me with Papa.

“When am I getting married?” I clench my stomach, afraid I’ll vomit all over the new gown he bought me for my birthday. I had a wonderful party tonight, not realizing it doubled as a secret pageant for the highest bidder.

Papa lifts his chin, satisfied with my compliance. “One month.”

He and Mother got married at eighteen in an arranged marriage by their fathers, who were business partners in Russia. I’d heard they were never in love. Now he’s repeating his father’s sins by giving me away to the new Boston pakhan.

“Luka Gideon needs time to plan for this magnificent celebration in Boston.”

Luka probably needs time because Boston is buried under several feet of snow thanks to a rare March blizzard.

Papa advances on me. “I trust you are a virgin.”

I hide my nervous swallow. “Of course, Papa.”

He gives me freedom, so long as my guards are with me. I get wild at the club sometimes. I wonder if telling my father that one night I let a stranger to take my virtue in the bathroom would make him call off the deal or kill me.

“One more thing, Anastasia.” Papa sears me with a deadly glare. “You are not to mention this arrangement to anyone. This is my chance to seize power over the Italians and the Irish.” His upper lip curls with disdain, mentioning the Irish.

I’m more afraid of them than the Italians. The new Irish mob boss is a tortured and cruel man. Not to mention their enforcer killed a priest. Now Papa is planning this massive power grab to attack them.

“I can’t even tell Katya?” Keeping this secret will weigh on me. I tell her everything.

Saying her name wipes the evil grin off his face. “Nyet.” He never loved my half-sister, born of his mistress, who dropped her off here when Katya was twelve.

“She’ll find out.” I cross my arms, thinking of how the staff whispers behind his back.

He lays a hand on my shoulder. “I love you, Anastasia. This is best for you, my Bratva princess.”

Nodding, I let him peck me on the forehead. “Da, Papa.” I smile until he turns around, then my frown deepens as reality sinks in.

He’s forcing me to marry a man just like him. A man who will cheat on me the way he did Mother. And she killed herself. Nyet, spasibo…

Time, I have time. To leave.

That’s my plan and a week later, thanks to my skilled maneuvering, I find myself in a garden at The Orchid, freezing my ass off waiting for my salvation. The Winter Festival is Papa’s favorite gala and the Italians.

“It’s about time,” I snap at the tall man sauntering toward me.

“I am not the one in trouble, mia cara.” Dante Caruso, the Cosa Nostra underboss, says. He listened patiently yesterday when I told him my father planned to align with the Boston Bratva making Papa much stronger than the Italians and the Irish combined.

“Well, do you have it?”

From his expensive black tux, he pulls out a brown envelope. “These are untraceable.” He agreed to help me leave town by giving me money, a new phone, and a fake ID.

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