Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 79326 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79326 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
“Has he kidnapped her? Is he holding her as leverage?”
“No. It seems they’ve had a few dates. When I asked Lara about Abrasha, she sounded indifferent. But according to Rostov, they’re already a couple. He’s looking to unite our houses in marriage.”
I clench my molars. “What did you tell him?”
“I told him I could not because my daughter had a long-arranged marriage to your son.”
I go quiet, absorbing this.
“It was the only thing I could think of to keep her free of his clutches. He won’t pick a fight with you, especially not if it’s a marriage arranged from birth.”
I turn to look back through the French doors, where my son still stands with his mother. Ben sees me looking and takes it as a summons. He nods and walks toward the doors.
Blyad’. He would do it. Ben has the same protective instincts I do. He shelters the weak and vulnerable. It’s the reason Thornecroft was the only college I felt comfortable sending Lili to. I know he’ll keep tabs on her and eliminate any dangers.
If I asked him, he would go along with the lie Adrian told, marrying Lara to keep her safe.
But it would end his chosen life. He’s already far older than his years. Do I really want him married at age twenty-two?
Then again, it could be a marriage in name only. He could still have his own life, as long as he keeps Lara safe here at this house and pretends she’s his wife.
Lucy will kill me, though. She never wanted her children wrapped up in the business. Then again, she wouldn’t want to see Kat and Adrian’s daughter trapped in a marriage to the man who tortured everyone weaker than him as a boy.
My mind spins. It might not be forever. Five years, maybe, until Rostov forgets about using Lara as a pawn in his game.
I blow out my breath. “Put her on the next plane to Whisper.”
Adrian’s exhale of relief is audible through the phone. “Spasiba, Pakhan. You honor me.”
“You’re my brother. I would never let harm come to one of yours.”
I end the call and put the phone in my pocket, staring at the manicured hedges as if they might reveal the perfect way to tell my son that I just locked up what could be the rest of his life.
The French doors open, and Ben walks out. “Did you need something?”
“Yes.” I scrub a hand over my face. “Ben, there’s something I have to ask of you.”
Chapter One
Three days later
Baron
I’m not a man of “big feels,” but I always thought I’d feel something on my wedding day.
I also imagined I would actually know the woman I was marrying. And be out of college already.
I’m in my Range Rover on the tarmac of the private airfield, tapping my fingers on the wheel as I wait for the jet to arrive with my bride.
The woman my father told me three days ago I could protect by putting a ring on her finger.
Lara Turgeneva has no social media for me to troll. Probably because she’s a bratva princess and, like the rest of us, was taught to keep a low profile.
I had Anya scour the internet, but she came up dry until she hacked the Russian government to uncover a passport and driver’s license photo. It’s hard to tell much from them. She might be pretty; she might not.
No one looks good in those pictures.
Supposedly, we knew each other as toddlers before her family moved from Chicago back to Moscow. I remember nothing. I wish I knew something about her. She’s probably scared. I don’t have any plans to get into a genuine romantic relationship with her, but I’ll do my best to make things comfortable. This is awkward for both of us. I’ll make sure she understands that I don’t expect her to consummate the marriage or share my bed.
She can even date whomever she likes, if she’s careful and keeps it a secret.
The roar of jet engines makes me peer up through the windshield. A small jet glides in and makes an elegant touchdown. I wait until they’ve opened the door and attached the gangplank before I climb out of the Range Rover.
I wore a suit. Not to impress my bride but as a show of good faith. To show her I don’t want this, but I will make it work. I will follow my father’s instructions: pick her up, marry her, and install her in Baranov House, where I can protect her. Except we can’t get married until twenty-four hours after we’ve picked up the marriage license.
I’m not doing it because my father asked it of me although I would’ve done it for him. While I’m certain he’s a ruthless killer, and I know he’s the head of an international crime organization, he commands nothing but my love and respect.