Arranged By The Bravta King

23

Maria.

As the morning progresses, Larissa and I chat over nothing and everything. There are moments I forget I'm being forced to stay here and marry her brother. If Larissa knows my situation, she certainly doesn't show it. Instead, she shares stories of her time traveling through Europe, and I can't help but envy her experiences.

"Your father never allows you to travel?" she asks, raising an eyebrow.

"No," I admit, looking away. "He's been very protective of me since my mother died."

"I'm so sorry." She places a hand on my knee. "When did your mother pass?"

"After I was born."

"I understand what that's like." Larissa covers her expression quickly and gently takes her hand away to dab at the corner of her eyes. "Our father wasn't exactly the easiest man to live with either, especially after our mother died."

"Did you ever feel trapped?" I ask, probing for information and simultaneously hinting a little at what's going on with myself. "Or suffocated?"

"Always." She gazes out the window at nothing in particular. "But over time, I learned to assert myself in small ways." She turns back, and the picture-perfect smile returns, though a shard of sadness remains in her eyes. "Our world is dominated by men, I'm afraid. But never underestimate the power we hold. They are subtle, but they are real. Now, I am living the life I always wanted with a man I love." Her hand returns and gives mine a light squeeze. "And soon, you will too."

If only she knew ...I think. But I am careful to avoid saying too much. So, I return the soft squeeze of her hand and muster a smile of my own.

"Do you have children?" I ask.

The shard of sadness grows in her eyes, and her smile fades slightly. But she regains her composure quickly enough.

"No." Her tone speaks of a finality to the questioning, and I know better than to press. So, I quickly back away from the subject.

"Do you live near here?" I hesitate for a moment. "Lara?"

I'm unsure if I am allowed to call her by this name, remembering how Mikhail expressed his displeasure at Alexander when he dared call him Kolya. But to my surprise, she smiles warmly at the familiarity.

"No," she replies. "I live out on Long Island."

The mere mention of Long Island has my mind thinking of Holtsville. Oh, I would give anything to be back in my hot-pink bedroom. Far away from all of this madness. Where Dad is just Dad, and not some alleged traitor of the Bratva.

"But I have a small apartment in the city," Larissa continues. "So I can be close to my husband and Kolya."

A small apartment? Define small. I quickly take a sip of the orange juice set in front of me. Larissa doesn't have a clue what her brother is doing to me. I can't tell her, or she'll tell him what I said.

I like her, but she isn't my way out of here.

"Maria," Larissa's voice breaks me out of my reverie. "I hope you know how much you mean to both of us. I hope you will bring light into Kolya's life. He's been lost for so long now."

"Thank you, Lara," my voice shakes with emotion. "What do you mean lost?"

"Our mother's death," she replies sadly. "He blames himself for that. More than he blames himself for our brother's."

It's only then that I notice that there are no family pictures on display here. No cheesy photo in a drugstore frame or oil portrait over the amazing fireplace. I look around again, and maybe Larissa can guess what I was thinking. After all, her brother is terrifyingly good at guessing my thoughts.

As we wrap up breakfast, I think about my family, and I'm left starved for affection when she tells me that she must go. I stand there a little dazed. And I want to reach out my hand and beg her not to leave me here in this beautiful, emotionless cage.

But I don't. I remember the police officer who handed me back to Mikhail. I can't trust anyone, not even one as warm as Larissa.

So, I swallow hard and nod. "Promise me you'll visit again soon, Lara."

"Of course, Maria," she assures me, her eyes full of affection. "There is so much you still have to learn about this world—both the good and the bad," she says cheerfully. "And you'll need someone who isn't my brother to walk you through it. Take care of yourself, Maria," she whispers, squeezing me tightly once more. "And remember, you're not alone. You have me. Anything you want or need, I can help you."

Sunglasses and a large hat on, Larissa waves as she steps into the elevator. I watch her slip the key into her purse and wonder what she would do if I told her the truth.

And when she learns the truth, will she still tell me that I'm not alone?