(IVANNA)
KRASNOYARSK, Russia
I came face to face with the devil the morning after my eighteenth birthday.
Hungover and beat, I roll over to the side of the bed where my foot brushes against someone's warm skin and crisp body hair. One of my friends held a graduation party last night at her pool and my boyfriend, Alexei, slept over after. We usually hook up at his apartment, but last night, I was too drunk and I insisted that we come here.
Sneaking Alexei into the house has never been easy, especially under the watchful gaze of the cameras that Pa has his men watch. But I am a pro. I have always outsmarted the guards and the cameras. One thing that the guards love is routine. Once you learn the routine, you can always get around it and do whatever you please.
Pa is the head of the seven families of the Bratva in Krasnoyarsk. His business is dangerous, and that's why my two sisters aren't raised like typical teenagers. We always have guards trailing us wherever we go, even to school, and they always have guns in their jackets. We barely engage in extra curricular activities.
Which is the reason why I can't help but sneak out occasionally.
I'm the responsible big sister, mostly because I've been taking care of my sisters ever since our mother died. A break is in order every now and then.
I hear a knock sound on my door. "Ivanna, are you awake?"
My father.
Dread courses through me. The first night that I dare to have Alexei sleep over and my father is outside my door. This is bad.
My hangover immediately fades. I grab Alexei's shoulders. "You have to leave, now." I whisper harshly.
Alexei hurries to dress up as I throw him his clothes. I glance at the door. "Don't come in, Pa. I'm not dressed."
"Dress up quickly. You need to look presentable." He says from the other side of the door. "We have guests."
Guests? It's barely nine o'clock. "I'm gonna need at least an hour to prepare." I say.
"Be down in ten."
All I can hear is the command in his voice. "Okay." I call.
Alexei zips up his jeans and throws on a shirt. He opens up the window and glances down. My bedroom is on the second floor. It is high but certainly not a death-defying jump. "Hang down from the window ledge and you will be just fine."
A rough hand slides over my bare ass. Maybe it's about time I met your family, babe."
The mention of that almost makes me laugh. I know for a fact that Pa would strangle Alexei with his bare hands if he gets wind that he touched his precious daughter. "You have to leave now. Make sure to keep to the side of the house that's out of sight. There is a path on the left that leads to a wall. That way, the cameras won't see you. Hurry."
He presses a hard kiss to my lips and crawls out the window. I watch as he carefully lowers himself down. His biceps bulge with the effort. Before we graduated last month, he'd been one of the most popular boys in our senior class and captain of the football team. I'm going to miss him when I leave for college in August.
Alexei drops to his feet and gives me a salute. I blow him a kiss and shut the window. My mind races back to Pa and the guests.
I take a quick shower and braid my wet hair then dab concealer under my eyes. I swipe mascara on then throw on a prim dress that covers most of my body, just like papa prefers. I put on a pair of high heels instead of flats. I'm a tall girl, but I like the way I look in heels. Fierce. Intimidating. Like nothing can stop me.
The house is quiet. My sisters are still asleep. The sixteen-year-old twins Alya and Dasha usually stay up at night watching movies and chatting with their friends online. I will miss them when I go to college. But they don't need me much these days. They will just be fine after I leave.
My heels pop on the marble floor as I approach my father's office. I rarely go in there, seeing as I'd rather not know what Pa is doing there most of the time. Ignorance is bliss when you have a family member in the mafia, let alone running it.
I knock and wait until I hear my father's voice from the other side telling me to come in. He is seated behind his desk. The room is full of men dressed in black. Some of the faces are familiar, like uncle Vasili and my cousin Ivan. But all the other faces are strange. They all stand there glaring at me.
"Come in, Ivanna." My father says as he gets up to button his suit jacket.
I swallow thickly and approach his desk. "You called for me?"
"Yes. This is Sergio Sakharov."
A man unfolds from the armchair and my heart leaps in my throat. I have never seen such a handsome man in my life. He has such thick, wavy hair and piercing gray eyes. He is trim with a chiseled jaw and broad shoulders and the suit seems to flaunt his features. He looks like he is in his late thirties. Had the scenario been any different, I would have mistaken him for being a model or an actor. Nobody looks or dresses like this, unless they are dependent on their looks for a living.
This is no coincidence. Power emanates off him like waves. The men accompanying him are clearly not his friends. They are his guards. He must be someone important. Someone worth protecting.
And he seems dangerous.
I nod once. "Mr Sergio."
His gaze drifts over my face and down my body, as though I'm some horse that he is considering to purchase. Tingles break out of my skin the more he looks, and I can't place it between embarrassment and excitement. Like that's not bad enough, my nipples harden inside my thin bra. I hope he doesn't notice.
His lips curve ever so slightly into an evil smirk and when he meets my gaze, I'm certain that he is aware of the state of my nipples.
"You're eighteen?"
The words roll out his mouth with a heavy Russian accent and my heart thumps ominously in my chest. Are these men from Krasnoyarsk? I doubt it. None of my father's employees has such a thick accent. "Y…yes, sir."
He nods curtly and faces Pa. "She'll do."
She'll do? "Do for what?" I ask, shock coursing through me.
My father glances at me quickly before addressing Sergio. "Excellent. We'll plan for the wedding next month."