Kat
The reception is exactly what I expected—a display of wealth, power, and carefully crafted illusion.
They spared no expense. The chandeliers cast a golden glow over the room, glinting off crystal glassware and polished silver. The scent of expensive champagne and fresh floral arrangements lingers in the air, while the din of constant conversation hums in my ears.
Bratva politics disguised as a celebration. Everything about tonight is meant to send a message, a reminder to everyone in attendance of the bond between the Andreev and Fetisov families.
I can feel the stares, hear the whispers behind raised glasses, but neither holds my attention for long. Someone else already has it.
Pavel stands in the center of the room, commanding the space with his presence. Of course, he does; he’s impossible to ignore. But it’s to whom he’s speaking that makes my stomach knot: Viktor Novikov.
Viktor is the leader of the Novikov Bratva, the man whose family is supposed to align with ours once Pavel is dead. The tension between them is obvious. I spot guards posted here and there, as if they’re expecting a war to break out at any moment should the conversation take a turn for the worse. Pavel is calm and confident, sweeping his hand back and forth as he speaks.
Viktor’s fingers twitch at his sides, his jaw tight. He’s barely keeping it together. I wish I could hear what they’re saying. Whatever it is, it’s not sitting well with Viktor. Based on the sharp glint in Pavel’s eyes, I can tell he’s pressing him—backing him into a corner the way he does so effortlessly. Viktor looks like he’d rather be anywhere else.
The plan is simple: I kill Pavel, and in the confusion, the Novikovs step in. We ally, and when the dust clears from Pavel’s assassination, my family will have solidified itself as the most powerful in the city. But seeing how Viktor’s lip curls as he looks at Pavel with barely concealed contempt, I start to wonder how smooth this transition is going to be.
“Stop staring. You’ll give yourself away.”
Vlad’s face is frustratingly neutral, but I know him well enough to see past the mask. There’s the faintest trace of concern in his eyes. “You know, most women would spend their wedding reception celebrating, not skulking around trying to listen in on conversations.”
“Please don’t tell me I’m being that obvious.”
“Only because I know you so well. Come have a dance with your brother. We need to act natural.”
I don’t argue. Instead, I let him take my hand and guide me onto the dance floor. The music swells around us as he leads me into a smooth waltz. We’re moving in perfect rhythm, but, then his grip tightens slightly.
“You need to do better at playing it cool,” he says.
I force a smile, tilting my head as if we’re discussing something pleasant. “You don’t think I’m acting cool?”
Vlad smirks, but there’s no humor in it. “You’re staring at him like you want him dead.” His tone is pointed.
“I thought you said I wasn’t being that obvious.”
“Not yet, but you’re awfully close. Hence, why I stepped in.”
I scoff, shifting my gaze slightly. Pavel and Viktor are still locked in tense conversation. What the hell are they talking about? “Well, at least all eyes are off us for now,” I say.
“It would appear that way.”
“Which means we can discuss matters.”
He sighs, frustrated. “What’s on your mind?”
“As if you don’t know.” I subtly nod toward Pavel and Viktor. “I want to know what they’re talking about.”
Vlad doesn’t glance their way. His disinterest is deliberate. “Does it matter?”
“Yes.”
Vlad exhales, twirling me effortlessly before pulling me close again. “Viktor isn’t important. The Novikovs will align with us, regardless.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Not important?”
“They know what’s good for them,” Vlad says simply.
I huff. “So you think they’ll just fall in line because we’re so charming?”
Vlad’s lip twitches slightly. “No, because they know what will happen if they don’t.”
“Are you saying they won’t require a marriage?”
“They’re not as strict as some of the more traditional Bratvas,” Vlad says, his eyes flicking toward Pavel before shifting back to me. “They’ll follow power when they see it. A marriage isn’t necessary for that.”
“You do realize our parents originally arranged this deal, right? Does that make them part of the strictly traditional Bratva?”
Vlad smirks as we turn. “Maybe, or maybe it was just their way of keeping us in line. After all, look at you now, Katerina Fetisova.”
The name is like acid on my skin. My stomach twists, my jaw tenses. “Not for long.”
Vlad’s smirk fades. “Kat,” he says, “you need to be careful. This plan is dangerous, and we both know Piotr doesn’t give a damn about risk, as long as he gets what he wants.”
His words sting, but I don’t let it show. I can handle this. “I know what I’m doing,” I reply, the knot in my chest tightening.
Vlad isn’t convinced. “Maybe, but you can’t control everything. If there’s even a hint of doubt, you have to wait. Your safety is more important than Piotr’s timing. Not everything needs to happen so soon. I’m not thrilled about the idea of my sister becoming a murderer.”
I force my shoulders to relax, my face to remain neutral. “It’s too late for that. This has been in motion for weeks. There’s no turning back now.”
“It’s not too late,” he says, his tone sharp. “Pavel is still alive. It’s not too late until he’s no longer breathing. You can still walk away from this.”
“No, I want him out of the picture. I want our family safe and strong. I want—”
“Revenge.”
Vlad’s jaw locks; his teeth grind together. “Kat,” he begins, “think about Ana. She needs her mother more than our family needs revenge.”
My stomach drops. Ana. My daughter. The one person I can’t think about right now.
I look away, anywhere but at him, my gaze sweeping over the ballroom. Guilt creeps into my core. The swirl of other elegant couples moving to the music does nothing to distract me.
Vlad is right. Ana is everything; the only thing that truly matters. But thinking about her now only makes this harder. “Ana is why I’ve survived this long. Ana is who I’m doing this for.”
He lets out a mirthless laugh. “Really? She’s the only reason you’re doing this? It has nothing to do with your own needs?” He shakes his head. “I never should have agreed to this plan. As I’ve told you time and time again, I’m still not convinced Pavel’s family is responsible for our parents’ deaths.”
“If you still think that, you’re a fool,” I shoot back.
“Things never added up for me.”
“You’re just worried.”
“It’s natural to fear the consequences of such a plan. When a man is murdered—especially a man like Pavel—it can set events into motion that we may not have anticipated.”
My gaze snaps back to him, and I grip his hand tighter, my nails pressing lightly into his skin. “The deal is done, Vlad. Piotr is certain, and I trust him.”
Vlad’s eyes darken. “Do you? Do you really trust Piotr?”
The question hangs between us, thick and suffocating. I don’t want to answer it, not tonight.
“I trust him enough,” I concede, but the words are heavy, laced with bitterness. “He’s my brother.”
“And so am I.”
Piotr is smart, ruthless. I’ve always known he plays the long game, manipulating every move with surgical precision. But that’s what makes him a good leader. That’s also what makes him a threat. I shake the thought away. It doesn’t matter. “I’ll do my part for our family,” I say as I stare straight ahead over Vlad’s shoulder. “Our parents’ death will be avenged.”
Vlad’s expression is blank, but after a long moment, he nods reluctantly.
As if summoned, Piotr appears from among the crowd.
He stands at the edge of the dance floor, watching us with a polite smile that makes my stomach twist. It’s practiced and smooth, but I know him too well to miss the calculation behind it.
“Mind if I cut in?” Piotr asks as he approaches.
Vlad looks between us, his reluctance apparent, but after a tense second, he nods and steps back.
“Go right ahead,” he says as he gives Piotr my hand. “You know where I stand.” He gives me a stern look before walking away.
I watch him leave, his movements stiff, shoulders tight. Guilt takes over again as an uneasiness settles in my gut.
Piotr firms up his grip on my hand. “What were you two talking about?” he asks in a light, casual tone. I know he’s pressing me for information.
I meet his gaze, unflinching. “Vlad’s worried about me.”
Piotr’s eyes narrow slightly. “Are you worried?”
I hold his stare, refusing to waver. “I’m nervous,” I admit, because that much is true. I straighten my spine. “But I won’t fail.”
Piotr’s smile widens, but it’s not comforting—it’s a warning. He leans in, his breath brushing my ear as he murmurs, “Remember your training, remember the plan. All you have to do is execute it.”
The words send a chill down my spine, but I don’t react. He pulls back, his expression softening. “I know what I need to do.”
“The look on your face as you spoke to Vlad made me believe otherwise.”
“You know, I don’t appreciate your spying on me.”
“That’s part of my job,” he says. “I wouldn’t be a good boss if I didn’t keep a close eye on things.”
I turn my head to see Pavel coming toward us, his stride purposeful, his gaze locked solely on me.
Piotr catches the shift in my attention and turns slightly, his expression stoic, as my new husband stops in front of us.
“May I have the next dance?” Pavel asks, his voice smooth and deep, pulsing through my bloodstream like warm liquor. My breath catches in my chest, but I force my expression to remain calm.
“Of course,” I reply.
Piotr’s eyes linger on Pavel for half a second too long before he finally steps aside.
Pavel threads an arm around my waist and pulls me close; his body feels solid against mine. His body heat radiates through my silk dress.
I risk a glance up at him, the intensity of his gaze nearly undoes me.
“I’m glad you agreed to this,” he says, his voice low in my ear. His thumb brushes the back of my hand; the lightest touch, but it wrecks me. “It’s been a long time.”
Six years, and damn him, my body remembers everything. The pull between us is instantaneous. The moment I took his hand at the altar, a familiar fire sparked to life with terrifying ease, a slow burn, dangerous and insidious.
