“Today’s world is very different from that of our fathers,” Papa continues. “It’s both smaller and bigger. It presents new challenges and new opportunities. It would be foolish to let feuds of decades past stand in the way of all of us seizing those opportunities, don’t you think?”
Is he askingme? I dart a glance at Mama, but she’s looking straight ahead, her lips tight. Not knowing what else to do, I nod cautiously again.
“Good,” Papa says. “You understand then. Our families need a fresh start, a way to mend old rifts and build strong foundations for the future. A future where, instead of being rivals, the Leonovs and the Molotovs are partners, standing together against this rapidly changing world.”
I sneak another look at Mama. I don’t understand why I’m here, why it sounds as if Papa is giving this speech tome. Shouldn’t Nikolai be here instead, since he’s the one Papa is grooming to take over the business? Or Konstantin as the oldest? Or even Valery, who may only be seventeen but is already scary good at all sorts of unsavory things?
Mama is still not looking at me, so I return my attention to Papa, who’s droning on about the advantages of a Leonov-Molotov partnership, both from a financial and a political perspective. It boils down to all of us becoming even more rich and influential, as if the billions we currently have are not enough.
“So,” Papa says in conclusion, “Boris Sergeyevich and I have talked it over, and we’ve come up with a solution that benefits everyone. The best way to move past old rifts is to build a bridge over them, one that would unite us for decades to come.”
He looks at Alexei and his father, which forces me to do the same. Alexei’s face remains unreadable, while Boris is still smiling in that unsettling way.
A bizarre suspicion stirs in my mind, making my stomach tighten. But no. There’s no way. Not even our families are backward enough to—
“Children are our future,” Papa says, and it’s as if a yawning fissure opens underneath me, the earth parting with a roar that nearly drowns out the next words he says. Nearly, but not entirely. They still reach my ears, each one as impossible to process as the next. “You, your brothers, Alexei, and his siblings—you’ll all be here long after Boris and I are gone. And your children will be here after you. That’s why it’s important that you and Alexei marry, that the bond our families form isn’t just one of business contracts, but of blood.”
“Marry?” My question emerges through numb lips as I meet Alexei’s impassive stare. He doesn’t look shocked by this. He knew this was coming. I tear my gaze away from him and turn to Papa, my voice rising in pitch. “What do you mean, ‘marry?’ I’m fifteen!”
“Not now, obviously,” Boris says, his gravelly voice scraping over my nerve endings. “You’re both too young. It’ll be in a few years. In the meantime, you’ll get to know each other.”
“No. No way.” My gaze flits between Boris and my parents as I look for a sign that they’re joking, that this is a horrible prank they’ve decided to play on me for some unfathomable reason. Boris and Papa meet my eyes without blinking, while Mama keeps her gaze trained on the table. I grab her hand, forcing her to finally look at me. “Mama? Tell me this is not—”
“Alina.” Papa’s tone hardens. “This isn’t up for debate.”
“But—”
“It’s for your own good, Alinochka.” Mama’s voice shakes, belying her words. Her eyes swim with tears as she looks at me. “It really is.”
The roar in my ears intensifies. They mean it. This isn’t a joke. They intend to marry me off to Alexei. My eyes land on his face, which is still wearing that fucking unreadable mask, and it’s all I can do not to reach across the table and shake him, to tell him to speak up and say that this is insane, that there’s no way this is happening. But he doesn’t say anything. Which means it’s up to me. I jump to my feet. “No! No fucking way. I’m not doing it.”
Papa stands up, his expression darkening. “This is not up for debate, I said.”
I scoff. “Oh, yeah? Fuck this shit.” I spin around, but before I can leave the room, Papa grabs my wrist.
“Sit down.” His face is thunder black, his grip painfully tight. “And watch your fucking language.”
“Let go!” I try to twist out of his hold, but he’s too strong. Infuriated, I twist my arm harder, the adrenaline dulling the pain. “Let me fucking go!”
“Let her go. Now.” Alexei’s voice is dangerously level. It’s the first time he’s spoken today, and his words have the same effect as a judge’s gavel banging in an unruly courtroom.
I freeze instinctively, and Papa drops my wrist as if it were a snake.
“Leave us,” Alexei says, pushing to his feet to sweep an imperious gaze around the room. “Alina and I need to talk.”
For half a beat, there’s only silence. I don’t expect any of the adults to obey, but to my shock, Boris Leonov stands up and my mom follows suit.
“We’ll reconvene in ten,” Papa says, his eyes narrowed on my face. “Behave, you hear me?”
With that, he strides out of the room, and Mama scurries after him. Boris is last. His dark gaze lingers on his son for a long moment, and then he departs too, leaving us alone in the library.
My knees suddenly feel wobbly, and I sink into the chair, rubbing my throbbing wrist. I’m shaking with adrenaline, my pulse hammering in my ears. I’ve never encountered this violent side of my father. I know it exists, but he’s never hurt me before. Then again, I’d never outright defied him prior to today.
Alexei sits down as well and extends one hand toward me, palm up. “Let me see that,” he orders.
Startled, I comply, showing him my wrist, where the skin is red and blotchy. To my shock, he gently takes my hand, a frown gathering between his eyebrows as he turns it this way and that. His touch jolts me with its warmth. His hand is dark against my pale skin, his fingers long and powerfully masculine. My narrow palm and slender fingers look child-like in his grip. An electrifying tingle runs up my arm as he lightly rubs his thumb over the stinging skin, soothing the hurt, and my breathing quickens as the heated sensation spreads through my body, culminating in a pulsing, oddly pleasant ache between my thighs.
Oh, fuck. Is this what it feels like to be turned on? Is arousal what I’ve been experiencing around him?