Maksim walks past me and out of the bedroom, and I hear his footsteps on the stairs. Then his voice vibrates in the hallway as he says something to my father, and the front door opens and closes and he's gone.
Shame hangs over me like a heavy cloud as I stand in the middle of my bedroom and feel tears of anger burning my eyes. He had no right to just walk into my bedroom and take up residence. I know if I wouldn't have stood my ground, he'd have hovered over me in that bath until I was forced to get out and show him my body. As it was, the water was starting to grow cold. It would only have been a matter of time.
I ball my fists up and my hands shake with anger as I wonder if this is what I'll have to endure as his wife, no privacy, being bossed around and made to feel uncomfortable all the time. Women should not be given in marriage like this anymore, and in fact, the laws of this country don't allow it once a woman is an adult. But here I am, letting my father push me onto Maksim Orlov to save the family business.
My feet carry me to the edge of my bed where I sink down and cover my burning face with cold hands. This is all my fault because I can't seem to stand up for myself. I don't even want to marry Maksim. He's cold and greedy, and I feel like when I do, I will be pushed aside in favor of his whores or his money, and the rest of my life, I'll be lonely and depressed.
Then a knock comes at my door and I stiffen, thinking maybe he came back. "Marina?" I hear my father's voice.
"Yes, Papa. I'm changing..." It's not a total lie I tell him since I've laid out clothing on my dresser, but I don't want him walking in.
"Okay, dear. I just wanted to confirm the venue will be the botanical garden? Of course, we'll pay for everything..."
Sadness consumes me.
It feels like a wave of the ocean rolling over me until it's so strong I have to choke it back to form words. "Yes, Papa," I manage before the tears come, bursting from my eyes and rolling down my cheeks in large swaths. Since Mama died, I can't bear the idea of letting him down. He's a cold, hard man, full of his own form of greed and selfish ambition, and he expects everyone in his purview to kowtow to him in reverent worship.
And I wilt like a desert flower in his heat.
"Good girl," he praises. "Get some sleep now."
I listen to his feet shuffling away as I think of Stepan and the escape he offers. I want to be with him, if for no other reason than when I'm with him, I feel free from all of this. Stepan makes my heart come alive, while these men cause it to suffocate, and it's my own fault.
If I stood up to him, what would he do?
If I refused to marry Maksim, would my father and uncle force me anyway? Do I really get a choice?
I reach for my phone on the nightstand and think of texting Stepan. I need the release he gives me, and not just sex. I needto feel human. I need to feel wanted and alive. And I need to feel like my voice matters.
10
STEPAN
After a few weeks of tweaking and refining, I finally put together a few teams Roman can use for his deliveries, and a good group of men, with Kazimir's help, who can increase security around the fights. Today the team has gathered at the fight club to introduce Roman to his new teams. The men line the wall of the conference room with their shoulders squared and their chests out, proudly representing the best of the Kuzin organization.
Roman's seated at the table with his sleeves rolled up and a cup of coffee in front of him. He looks at the men and then at me. "Walk me through what you've put together." He taps his fingers on the table and surveys the men. They're a good group, and I doubt I could do better in this city.
I step forward and start at the left end of the line. "We'll start with your delivery team first. Nikola and Draven will run point on the two primary routes. Both came out of the Radin crews, and both have experience running transport security. They're solid fighters, and they both have military training."
Roman offers a grunt of approval at my selections. I'm confident in their being ex-military because it means they know how to watch each other's back and stay on their toes for the unexpected. Plus, I've seen them in action fighting. They won't run the rings, but they can do fine on the street.
"Angus is our UK contact's recommendation. He's been running contraband through European ports for the last five years and knows customs rotations better than anyone I've talked to. He'll handle our coordination with the western routes along with two men from the Czech Republic."
"He speaks Russian?" Roman asks.
"Enough. And he understands money, but your lead men will do most of the talking. What he understands is combat. We tried to get him in the rings because we know he'd dance circles around Rostik, but he doesn't want to be a fighter. He's content with smuggling." I flick a glance at Kazimir who winks at me. He knows I've done well picking Angus, though I don’t need his approval. He's just too busy to do this job himself.
Roman's mouth twitches, but he doesn't say a word so I keep moving.
"Christos is our point man on the southern corridor. He's a Greek national with ten years of law enforcement experience. He's connected to distribution networks in the Balkans that we may want to tap into down the line, and his team of two fighters go with him wherever he is." I grin at Roman. "They are heavyweights out of Spain, and you should see them fight."
Roman sits taller and straightens his tie, cocking his head to one side. "Do they have ties to any other family?" He lifts an eyebrow.
"None—they're clean. And a few of them have criminal records, but nothing to be concerned about." I pat Angus on the chest and smile at him, and he nods as I gesture toward the door. The line of men begins to file out to wait in the hallway for further instruction.
"They'll do," Roman says when I'm done. Then he looks at Kazimir. "You trust them?"
"I trained them," Kazimir says from the doorway. "I think Step chose a good bunch, Ro."