Till Death Saves Me (Forced Mafia Marriages)

1. Ivan

1

IVAN

I stride into the opulent office, my footsteps echoing on the marble floor. Alexander's ostentatious taste makes my skin crawl. Gold-framed paintings and crystal chandeliers scream new money, a stark contrast to the understated elegance I prefer.

Alexander rises from behind his mahogany desk, all fake smiles and sweaty palms. "Ivan, good to see you."

He's no don. He's a Black businessman that knows how to make himself invaluable and now he wants the kind of protection only the Sokolov's can offer. But he's scratched their backs long enough…

So I'm here now that his daughter is out of her teen years.

I nod curtly, not bothering with pleasantries. "Let's get this over with."

He gestures to the chair across from him. I remain standing.

Alexander clears his throat, shuffling papers. "Right, well, here's the contract. Everything we discussed is there."

I scan the document, my jaw clenching tighter with each clause. This farce of a marriage is nothing more than a business transaction, cementing our families' alliance. But it's necessary for the Bratva. That's what my Pakhan told me at least.

As I reach for the pen, memories of Virginia flood my mind. That first encounter five years ago, her high-pitched giggle grating on my nerves as she prattled on about some inane reality TV show. Then there was the time she spilled champagne all over my suit at a gala, too busy gossiping to watch where she was going.

Each subsequent meeting only reinforced my initial impression. Virginia Sullivan is vapid, careless, and completely unsuited for the life she's about to enter. She's been coddled her entire life, shielded from the harsh realities of our world.

I sign my name with a sharp flourish, sealing both our fates.

"Excellent," Alexander beams, reaching for the contract. "I know you'll take good care of my little girl."

I resist the urge to scoff. Virginia is hardly a child, though she certainly acts like one. At twenty-one, she should be far more mature and aware of her surroundings. Instead, she floats through life in a bubble of privilege, oblivious to the dangers that lurk just beyond her gilded cage.

"She'll be safe," I say, my tone clipped. It's the best I can promise. I have no intention of coddling her the way her father has.

Alexander's smile falters slightly. Good. He should be worried. Virginia is about to get a rude awakening.

"When can we expect the wedding?" he asks, trying to maintain his jovial facade.

"Two weeks," I reply. "My people will handle the arrangements."

Alexander nods, relief evident in his posture. Of course, he's happy to hand off the responsibility. It's clear he has no idea how to prepare his daughter for what's to come.

"Her birthday is on Friday," he says. "I take it you'll make an appearance."

I grunt in response. "I'll have to give her the ring at some point."

As I turn to leave, a framed photo on Alexander's desk catches my eye. It's Virginia, beaming at the camera, surrounded by shopping bags from high-end boutiques. The image only reinforces my disdain. She's an airhead, one that I now have to take care of.

I leave Alexander's office, my jaw clenched tight enough to crack teeth. The elevator ride down feels endless, each floor ticking by as I struggle to contain my mounting frustration. By the time I reach the lobby, I've composed myself enough to nod curtly at the receptionist before striding out into the crisp New York air.

Twenty minutes later, I'm standing in Nikolai's office, my report concise and to the point. "It's done. The contract is signed."

Nikolai leans back in his leather chair, icy blue eyes studying me. "Good. And your thoughts on the arrangement?"

I hesitate, choosing my words carefully. "It's... necessary."

A ghost of a smile flickers across Nikolai's face. "But not to your liking." I think he's only asking to see if I'll react the way his brother did.

Lev nearly burned down a building when he learned he was going to have to marry for the good of the family. And now he's so enamored with his wife it's impossible to get him away from her. Not that I don't like Aleks, but I don't plan on following him down the path.

"My personal feelings are irrelevant," I reply, falling back on the discipline that's been drilled into me since childhood.

Nikolai rises, walking to the window that overlooks the city. "I remember when I first told you about this plan. You were skeptical then, too."

Nikolai is good at reading most people, especially me, since I've been around him for so long. It doesn't surprise me that he saw the emotion I was trying to bury. It's why he's a damn good Pakhan.

The memory rises unbidden. Five years ago, in this very office. Nikolai explaining the long game, the need to secure Alexander's loyalty and resources. And at the center of it all, a sixteen-year-old girl I'd barely met.

"Virginia was still a child," I say, unable to keep the edge from my voice.

"And now she's of age," Nikolai counters. "This marriage will cement our alliance with Alexander. He's got business ties I need, and his protection will be good for me in the long run. Can't have him dying before I'm ready for it."

I nod, swallowing my objections. Nikolai turns to face me, his expression softening slightly. "I know this isn't ideal, Ivan. But I need you for this." A smug smile tugs at his lips. "You're the closest thing I have to another brother and I can't marry Lev off again."

His words hit their mark, as they always do. My loyalty to Nikolai, to the Bratva, runs deeper than any personal discomfort. I straighten, meeting his gaze. "I understand, Pakhan. I won't let you down."

"I know you won't," Nikolai says, clapping me on the shoulder. "And hey, take it from me, sometimes it's not so bad having a pretty one in your house."

I nod, forcing myself not to roll my eyes. Nikolai has been married to Marie for nearly twenty years at this point, forced to marry when he was just of age. They've become friends in a way, the best outcome for these kinds of marriages.

Better than I am hoping for truthfully.

As I turn to leave, Nikolai calls out, "Ivan." I pause at the door, looking back. "Remember, she's young." He raises an eyebrow at me. "I hope I don't have to tell you the same thing I did to Lev."

I shake my head. Lev took out every bit of his anger on his wife — but lucky for him, he had met his match in Aleks. I may be annoyed at Virginia's sheltered life, at how I am going to be forced to deal with an innocent little bride who will only get in my way, but I won't punish her for it.

I make my way to Lev's office, my mind still churning over the conversation with Nikolai. It's a few floors down in the Sokolov Bio Tech building, its gleaming fa?ade a perfect cover for our less legitimate operations. How else would Bratva offices be in the middle of Manhattan?

As I step into Lev's office, he looks up from his desk with a smirk. "Well, if it isn't the blushing groom-to-be."

I level a cold stare at him. "Spare me the jokes, Lev."

He leans back in his chair, a smirk on his face. "Come on, Ivan. Don't you want to celebrate?" The way he says it, almost threatening, reminds me of the night of his engagement celebration.

I'm starting to empathize with my friend now.

"No," I snap, my patience wearing thin. "This is business, nothing more."

Lev's expression sobers slightly. "Look, I know this isn't ideal. But remember what you told me when I found out about Aleks? 'It's not her fault, so don't take it out on her.'"

His words hit like a punch to the gut, igniting a flare of anger in my chest. "What the fuck, Lev? Why does everyone think I'm going to mistreat her?"

Lev holds up his hands, placating. "Hey, I'm just saying?—"

"No," I cut him off, my voice sharp as steel. I reign in my temper, one that rarely flares, and say much more calmly, "You don't need to say anything. I'm not you, Lev. I'm not going to lose my shit and take it out on some innocent girl."

Lev's eyes narrow. "Watch it, Ivan. That's my wife you're talking about."

I take a deep breath. "You're right. I apologize. But my point stands. I don't need lectures on how to treat Virginia."

"Alright, alright," Lev concedes, holding up his hands. "I just wanted to make sure you're okay with all this."

I clench my jaw, frustration simmering beneath the surface. "It doesn't matter if I'm okay with it. It's happening, and I'll do my duty. End of story."

I make it through the rest of the day without any more talk about the upcoming wedding. Meetings blur together, punctuated by terse phone calls and encrypted messages. It's business as usual, despite the life-altering contract I signed this morning.

As I'm gathering my things to leave, a file on my desk catches my eye. Virginia's dossier. I shouldn't look, not with the way I've already been raging about this woman today. I put it together because I refused to go into this marriage blind. But for some reason, I flip it open, and there she is - a recent photo taken at some charity gala.

For a split second, I'm struck by her beauty. The camera's caught her mid-laugh, head thrown back, curls tumbling over bare shoulders. Her eyes sparkle with genuine joy, her smile radiant and unguarded.

I slam the file shut, angry at myself for even noticing. Beauty means nothing in our world. It's a weapon, a distraction, a liability. And Virginia's beauty, coupled with her ignorance of the dangers that surround her, makes her a ticking time bomb.

Her carefree attitude, so evident in that photo, is exactly what makes her dangerous. She has no idea of the world she's about to enter, no concept of the threats that lurk in every shadow. Her naivety could get us both killed.

I shove the file into my briefcase, determined to put it - and her - out of my mind. Beauty is irrelevant. What matters is keeping her safe and controlled, for the sake of the Bratva and my own sanity.