Married to the Mafia Boss

Katya

From the first time I met Ales, it was as if he was born to infuriate me. As if the universe had given him the exact ingredients to drive me crazy.

My father had been very scrutinizing when he’d broken the news to me. He’d watched me very closely for any reaction. As a child, I learned quickly how easily my father could perceive my moods. He was very watchful of everybody, but even more so of me. I could keep a passive face around everybody in the world, but with my father, I had to be extra careful.

I had to wear a mask. It needed to be glued to my skin, airtight because otherwise, he noticed.

When he had come over last night to have dinner, I should have known he’d come with bad news. He was especially busy at the moment, and our organization was in crisis, so coming to the house seemed unusual. It’d been months since we’d eaten together at our family dining table.

The words he’d said, the way he’d said it, still floated in my mind even now.

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This meant, I not only had to get married, but it was going to be to Alessandro Sorvino. The very thorn that had been lodged in my side for weeks now.

He was equal parts annoying and sexy.

Wounding me up like a toy every single time his name so much as came up.

In front of my father, I’d been passive, unbothered. My father would never cage me. I knew if I even looked slightly bothered, he would undo the decision regardless of the consequences.

I’d agreed.

For our organizations, for my family, for my father.

When I told Paulina and Sam, they burst out laughing.

“No, no,” Sam said between laughs, completely out of breath, “because I seriously thought you were joking.”

“Ha ha, keep laughing.” I rolled my eyes at the both of them, laughing and holding on to each other as the driver drove us to a club for the night.

My shoulders were tensed. Losing two properties, having my first contribution to my family’s business blown up, having a girl that had been under my care cut up like an animal, and now I had to get married to a man that infuriated me.

Whoever said life was a bitch knew exactly what they were talking about.

Paulina wiped at the tears in her eyes. “I know you said it over the phone but hearing it from your lips is just….”

“I know!” Sam was still hysterical.

“I always thought Sam would be the first one to get married.”

“And you would be the last.” Sam added. “Not just the last, but probably a widow in less than ten years because of that shitty temper of yours.”

“Yeah, you were supposed to be our black widow, not fucking Mrs. Klaus.”

I sighed and turned my face to the window as my friends laughed and joked all the way to the club.

Paulina whooped at the packed club. “Barely in, and I can already see ten hotties.”

“Are you going to attempt chastity before your marriage or…?” Sam asked with a raised brow, and they both looked at me quietly for a while before a wicked smile broke across my face.

They laughed again, and we went on to party.

The music was pumping, and the dancefloor was packed with writhing bodies, but the sense was sharp and clear.

Somebody was watching me.

“Katya, are you good?” Paulina yelled over the music when she saw I’d stopped dancing.

Looking around, I couldn’t make out much. Too many people, most of the moving, plus the flashing lights.

“Yeah, keep dancing. I’m going back to the table.”

The VIP section was a lot less packed, and getting visuals was better because the lights didn’t flash, although they were dim.

I could survey better from my seat up here. Watching the dance floor, I couldn’t catch the person that was watching me.

But they were still there because the feeling was still here, at the front of my mind.

I turned my eyes upwards. If they were still watching me, maybe it was from the VIP section.

Carefully I scanned the room until I stopped at a figure enjoying a drink on the other side of the VIP section.

Maxim Triev.

His eyes were on mine, and he gave me a dirty smile.

I usually always carried a Swiss knife or small handgun, depending on my outfit, but I couldn’t fit both into what I was wearing tonight.

Maxim put his drink down, stood up, adjusted his collar, and started to head away towards a corridor that led to the more…private spaces of the bar.

I went after him.

For what he did to my Nebesa and Mel, for the fact that because of him, I now had to get married, I was going to gut him like a fish, and I was going to enjoy it.

The corridor had even less lighting than the VIP section, but I didn’t slow down.

Obviously, he’d have hidden somewhere close to get me by surprise.

Men and their cheap tricks.

I smirked and went in, conscious of the knife strapped to my thigh. Despite my heels, I was fast on my feet, and whirled around just as the piece of shit charged at me, my back to the wall.

“Hello precious Katya,” he said, his handgun pressed to my stomach, and a hand braced on the wall beside me.

The edge of my knife was pressed against his rib, ready to push in upwards for his lungs. “It is Miss Petrenko to you, and I advise you to step back. We’re not friendly enough to be standing this close.”

Maxim pouted, his lips downturned. “That wounds me.”

“Not the way my knife is about to, I assure you.”

He pushed forward a bit, the edge of the knife biting into his skin through his shirt. A small patch of red started to form.

A gun clicked, safety off.

“I advise you to step back before I start that war you seem to have a hard-on for.”

Maxim looked to the side, and I took my chance, pushing forward with my knife.

But Maxim stepped back, and Alex grabbed my hand to stop me, the gun still aimed.

Blood leaked into Maxim’s shirt, and the bastard stared at it, pressing his fingers against it as if to confirm it was indeed blood.

The smile was crude and made me was to rush forward again, but Ales’ grip on my wrist was iron, and if I fought, his aim on Maxim might have been disrupted.

“The only thing I have a hard-on for is your seductive bride-to-be. Ah, that reminds me, I think congratulations are in order, yes?”

Alex took a menacing step forward, and, for a second, I thought he was going to shoot. I hoped he would.

“Repeat that, Triev. One more time to test my patience.”

Maxim glared at Ales, looked at me, and smirked. “I won’t play a losing game, Alessandro.” Then he licked his finger, winked at me, and walked off, back into the VIP section, running away like a coward.