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)
Those who are invited sign NDAs and then are sworn to secrecy with veiled threats.
I find people’s imaginations work far better to control behavior than any threat or promise I could make.
I imagine stripping Lara out of her clothes and fastening her wrists and ankles to the St. Andrew’s cross. Teasing her with the perfect application of intermittent pleasure until she goes mad and begs me for a release.
Or even better, a genuine relationship.
But I’d settle for her orgasm.
It’s a delectable thought.
But of course, locking her up against her will won’t work. I’ll have to tempt Lara into the dungeon the same way I do the rest of the world–by denying her entry.
In the meantime, I’ll keep her close, so I can watch over her. My original plan was to bring a contractor in to divide my large bedroom in two. But I’m glad I didn’t have time to make the call.
My bride isn’t sleeping anywhere but in my bed.
If her father thinks she’s in so much danger he sent her here within days of my agreement, I need to take her protection seriously. That means keeping her close.
Making the marriage appear real to anyone who observes us.
I don’t examine the more personal reasons I have for wanting her in my bed.
I park in the driveway next to Leo. “This is our place.”
She sends a wary look at the house, as if it might suddenly animate and attack her. “Our place?”
“Not just for us. There are twenty members of the house. Twenty-one now, with you. Come in. I’ll introduce you.”
I take two of her suitcases and carry them to the front door, using my thumbprint to open the lock.
Half of the house members loiter in the living room. This is my version of the communal brotherhood my father cultivated in the Chicago high-rise where many of us grew up.
We’re the bratva heirs. The generation born into my father’s kingdom. A band of brothers and sisters with our own set of rules: Stay sharp. Protect each other and what is ours at all costs. Defend the weak from bullies. Wrest power from the campus autocrats. Leech money from the trust fund babies to pay for our enterprise.
They all stare as we come in, taking in the suitcases. The way my hand lightly rests on Lara’s back. My subtle declaration that she belongs to me. She’s under my protection, and they will accept her in, like they accept anyone I bring into our fold.
Zoe sits cross-legged on the couch next to Phoenix and her twin, Anya, who sprawls across the “L” of the couch with a laptop in her lap. Their father, Dima, is a hacker for my dad’s cell. There’s no firewall he can’t get through, and last year, when she moved into Baranov House, Anya honed her skills not only in hacking but in complex money laundering.
It is one of the many services we offer for an enormous fee. Along with several other illegal ventures.
My dad tried to keep me out of the bratva–even going so far as sending me to boarding school when I got obsessed with joining, but he allowed me to observe. After I had blood on my hands at too young an age, he let me train in every form of self-defense–from mixed martial arts to sharp shooting. I absorbed the lifestyle in every way I could. You could say the apple didn’t fall far from the tree.
“Hey, everyone.” It occurs to me I should’ve given them a heads-up about the whole arranged marriage thing before I brought Lara in. I guess I was in denial about the massive effect her presence will have on our house dynamics and activities.
Then again, if I’d given them a heads-up, one of them might say something about the marriage being a sham, which Lara can’t know.
“This is Lara Turgeneva, my fiancée.”
“Your…what now?” Phoenix puts down the game controller and stares from the sofa where he was playing with Zoe.
I tip my head toward the door. “There are two more suitcases in the trunk.”
He jumps to his feet. “On it.”
As he passes by Lara, he shakes her hand. “I’m Phoenix. It’s nice to meet you.” He sends me a what-the-fuck? look as he steps out.
Anders and Leo give me similar looks, but Anders goes to help Phoenix, stopping to shake Lara’s hand and introduce himself.
Phoenix was my roommate freshman year. A transgender student from North Carolina, he found some haters that first week of school until I straightened them out. His safety was the impetus for me securing this house. I needed a place I could build the sort of community I grew up in and protect my friends.
“You have a fiancée?” Anya asks, climbing to her feet.
“When did this happen?” Zoe demands, also standing. “I’m so confused.”
I glance at Lara, who stands stiffly beside me, refusing to look my way. I clear my throat. “Our parents arranged our marriage at birth.”