Page 14 of Savage Beauty

I don’t appreciate his condescending tone. While the circumstances surrounding our marriage might not be ideal, Josie is my wife. I promised her the respect she’s due, and this pompous fossil is making a liar out of me.

“I’m only asking that my wife be treated with courtesy,” I say through gritted teeth.

“Really?” Oleg asks incredulously. “When you’ve bestowed your family’s proud name on this rootless,” he pauses to sneer at Josie, “whateverthisis?”

I reach out and take Josie’s hand firmly in mine. “I just told you how to address her. Are you bringing disrespect into it? She’s part of my family now.”

Oleg slaps his knee and bursts into laughter. “I knew I’d seen her before! I’ve seen this girl naked. She danced at my cousin’s birthday party a few years ago. He offered to pay extra to fuck her, but she refused and punched him square in the nose.”

The room falls silent as everyone’s attention turns to Josie. I’m horrified to see her shrink away, her hand slipping from mine. She wraps her arms around herself, trying to block out the humiliation.

Before I know I’m doing it, my hands are around the man’s throat. I tuck my foot behind his ankle, spin him as he loses his balance, and smash his face into the wall.

Chaos erupts as people shout and scramble to pull me away, but I’m stronger than all of these aging bratva members combined. Amidst the commotion, the only voice that reaches me is Josie’s.

“Stop it, Sasha!” she cries. “That’s enough!”

I let go, and the man wheezes as he slides down the wall. The others haul him to his feet as he struggles to breathe. Igor still sits on the armchair, and I turn to him, flexing my fingers.

“My wife’s past is irrelevant.” I look over my shoulder. “And if anyone speaks of it again in my presence, I’ll take them apart. I don’t give a fuck who it is or what the consequences may be, so consider yourselves warned.”

Oleg gets to his feet, clutching his mottled neck. “Mark my words, boy,” he says coolly. “This woman will bring nothing but trouble. You could have settled down with a respectable mafia girl like your father did. Instead, you’ve chosen her? It’s hardly surprising that you show us no respect, considering you don’t even have enough self-regard to marry well.”

Igor is notkomandirfor nothing—the man is as still as a statue, his expression unruffled. The room becomes still as his gravitas pulls everyone into line.

“Keep your stupid mouth shut, Oleg.” Igor glances at him. “That was uncalled for.”

I’ve had enough of this. “I understand I need to meet with your approval,” I say. “What do you want from me, Igor?”

“I will overlook your altercation with Oleg,” Igor concedes, nodding toward the man I throttled, who now clutches a glass of whiskey with trembling hands. “He deserved it, but you went too far. My long association with your family gets you only one pass, so we’ll let it slide, and you owe him five hundred thousand in compensation.”

“For that?” Oleg is apoplectic with fury. “That’s ridiculous! I want—”

“I said shut up.” Igor’s voice is even, but Oleg is still silenced. “You’d think, after Sasha almost strangled you to death, you’d learn to hold your damn tongue.” He addresses me again. “As for your marriage, you will hold a proper ceremony within the next three weeks, and by that time, you must also settle your debt with Sal Tosca. Then the bratva will accept your wife, and this ugly mess will be behind us. Is that clear?”

I’m getting off lightly, and we both know it. I bow my head in deference. “Fine,” I say through clenched teeth. “Now, can I see out my wedding night in peace?”

Igor smiles and stands. “Of course. You need to find your wife.”

I glance around and realize Josie is gone. I never noticed her leave the room, but she must have slipped out while we talked. I ignore thekomissiyamen and leave without another word, darting out of the lounge and running up the stairs. Josie’s purse, phone, and shoes are all missing from the suite.

I find Vlad and Arman in the kitchen.

“How’d it go?” Arman asks. “Good to see you’re still alive.”

I’m in no mood for jokes. “Josie ran out on me,” I say. “I gotta find her. You know what to do.”

10

One hour later…

Josie

Ipull Sasha’s jacket around my shoulders and sink lower in my seat, trying to fade into the background.

A bus station in the evening is a dangerous place to be. Men slink outside like lions at the edge of a herd, looking for the weak, naive, or lonely. Ready with a kind word, an offer of food and shelter.

My mom met my father under these exact circumstances. Running away, looking for safety and security. My father took her home, fed her, and gave her a warm bed. After a few days, he shared his drugs, too, and the sweet sting of heroin made all the fear disappear.

---