by Bella Rose
Russian Mobster’s Princess
By: Bella Rose
All Rights Reserved.
Copyright 2016 Bella Rose
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Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
BONUS STORY
Russian Mobster’s Obsession
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
ANOTHER STORY YOU MAY ENJOY
Russian Mobster’s Blackmailed Bride
Prologue
Kira Berezin fidgeted nervously with the beaded trim of her white sheath dress. She stared at the reflection in the mirror and wondered if everyone would notice how pale and drawn she appeared. Her black hair had been pulled severely away from her face into a bun, and only a touch of cosmetics highlighted her facial features.
Her dress had been custom made for her by one of the most exclusive seamstresses in the city. Kira had worn a hundred costumes in her role as a soloist for the New York City Ballet, but never had she expected to wear a wedding gown.
“Kira?” Her father pushed open the door of the tiny bathroom in the New York City courthouse. “It is time. Viktor wishes to speak with you before the ceremony.”
“Yes, Papa,” she murmured.
Anton Berezin was a bear of a man with hawk-like features and a permanent scowl. Kira often wondered if her mother had died of fright when Kira was born a girl instead of the coveted boy. Now her papa was taking an interest in her for the first since her mother’s death.
“You will do your duty,” her father decreed. “Do you understand what this means?”
Kira blanched. “I thought we were to be married in name only.”
“I don’t care if that man wants to rut like a beast here in the courthouse,” Anton snarled. “You will spread your legs and do what you are told. This marriage is important for my position in the organization. This is your purpose. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Papa,” Kira managed to murmur. “But you said I would still be allowed to dance.”
“That will be up to your new husband.” Anton shrugged. “I care not. You are no longer my problem.”
Kira schooled her face into blankness. The years and years of dance training had given her poise far beyond her eighteen years. If she could get through one of Madame Bissett’s strength and conditioning classes, she could handle this farcical wedding.
Standing tall and straight, Kira followed her father down the long hallway toward the chambers of the Justice of the Peace who would make her a wife. There were other couples lounging about the corridor with their witnesses, family, and friends. Kira felt far removed from everything but their curious stares.
Before her, she saw Viktor standing beside his brother. Despite his lack of years, Nicholas was boss over all the Russian mafia lords in the New York City area. Kira knew from overhearing her father’s complaints to his second-in-command, Yuri, that Nicholas took his position of power very seriously. Viktor was younger brother by a handful of years.
Nicholas Domnin raised his dark eyebrows at Anton Berezin. “My brother wishes to speak to your daughter before their appointment with the judge.”
“Let him speak,” Anton said with a careless wave.
Nicholas curled his lip in disgust. “In private.”
Anton scoffed but did nothing to prevent Kira from following her fiancé a short distance away where they might attempt some privacy.
Kira stared at Viktor with unabashed fascination. She had very little experience with men outside her three younger half brothers. Yet Viktor seemed very dashing in his sharply cut dark suit. The fabric framed his slender torso, but showed off the strength of his arms. His pants were almost obscenely snug in the crotch, and Kira found her curiosity continually led her gaze to that region of his body. She wasn’t just innocent; she had never even wondered about the marital act beyond dreading when her turn might come. Many a dancer had lost a promising career to marriage and babies.
“I wished to speak with you,” Viktor began stiffly. “I was told that you were aware I wanted a marriage in name only.”
“I understand,” Kira quietly agreed. “I have no desire to be married.”
“Then why agree?” Viktor asked with sudden fire. “Simply say no and let us be done with this insane day.”
Kira gazed at him in confusion before recalling that he had lost his wife not long ago. “You’re still in love with your first wife,” she guessed.
“Yes.” He nodded emphatically. “And I am not likely to ever have a change of heart on this subject.”
“Then we are well suited.” She exhaled in relief. “I simply want out from under my father’s thumb so that I can pursue my career in the ballet. I was just promoted to soloist. It’s a great honor, but it will mean full dedication.”
Viktor actually looked relieved. “So you’re only marrying me to make your father happy?”
“Just like you’re only marrying me to satisfy my father and your brother in some ridiculous power war they have going on. I don’t pretend to understand mafia politics. I don’t even particularly care.”
“All right then.” Viktor gave her a smile.
The effect of that change in expression was devastating. Kira had to force herself to drop her gaze lest she simple stand there with a dumb look of wonder on her face. How had she never noticed that he was so handsome? From the swarthy complexion to his dark hair and warm brown eyes, he looked incredibly masculine and commanding but in the best way.
“Shall we?” He offered his arm, and she delicately placed her fingers in the crook of his elbow.
There were many stares and more than a few cell phones out to record the two of them walking down the hallway. Kira was confused.
“What are they doing?” she whispered to Viktor.
“I believe they’re under the impression that we’re celebrities trying to remain incognito or some other nonsense,” he explained.
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Yes, but you cannot change the minds of those who want to believe something foolish,” he said casually.
Kira digested this bit of wisdom and wondered if she would ever have a chance to actually know this strange man she was about to marry.
“After you.” He opened the doors to the judge’s chambers.
She demurely dropped her gaze. “Thank you.”
VIKTOR SUPPOSED THAT he should be paying some actual attention to the judge and the ceremony, yet he could not focus. He could only think of his poor love, Elena, and how only two years before he had stood at the front of a church and vowed to love her for the rest of his life. Now Elena was dead, and Viktor was marrying a stranger.
“You may place the ring on her finger.” The judge’s announcement ripped through Viktor’s reverie.
He fumbled in his suit jacket for the tiny ring Kira’s father had provided for the ceremony. Anton was
a sneaky, conniving bastard, and neither Viktor nor Nicholas even pretended that this wedding would satisfy the man’s greed. Yet as Viktor slipped the ring on Kira’s delicate finger, he thought that she was getting the raw end of the deal.
The judge looked at Kira. “You may now slip the ring on his finger.”
Kira’s hand trembled lightly as she did as she was bid.
Viktor stared at his hand. The sight of the ring on his fourth finger was both familiar and foreign. He wanted to rip the thing off. Elena had only been gone three months. How could he be marrying someone else?
In name only.
He repeated the assurance over and over until he could breathe without choking on the air. Finally it was over.
Except it wasn’t.
“You may now kiss the bride.” The judge grinned broadly, probably because the man had no idea how much the groom was dreading this moment.
Viktor awkwardly took Kira’s face between his palms. Her cheeks were soft. She felt incredibly delicate there next to him, as if he might crush her if he moved too quickly. He slowly lowered his mouth toward hers. He wanted to give her plenty of time to pull away if she so desired. He wasn’t going to push his affections on her if they were undesirable. But she stayed ramrod stiff.
Their lips touched in the lightest of kisses, and Viktor nearly froze with shock. Her taste was like sunlight, and she was as ethereal as a butterfly. It was like holding a piece of morning mist in his arms. Then she made a tiny noise in the back of her throat, and Viktor felt a shocking flare of something very close to lust stir in his loins. He deepened the kiss and slipped his tongue into her mouth.
He could feel her surprise, but her arms came up and twined about his neck. Her fingers tangled in his hair, and she lightly scored his scalp with her nails. It was decadent and delightful all rolled into one. Viktor felt a stirring between his legs where he had experienced nothing since Elena’s death.
Finally they broke apart, and he realized she was trembling against him. He held her gently until he was certain she was all right to stand on her own.
“Are you all right?” he whispered.
“Yes. Quite. Thank you. I suppose I got carried away for just a moment.” There was an adorable blush coloring her pale cheekbones.
“Understandable, I’m sure.” Viktor couldn’t help but feel a little protective of her. He tucked her hand into the crook of his arm once again and turned to face their only guests. Neither Anton Berezin nor Nicholas Domnin was smiling. “This isn’t a funeral, gentleman,” Viktor reminded them.
“The photographer is waiting in the municipal garden outside.” Anton delivered this curt announcement then turned and stalked out of the judge’s chambers.
“I suppose we go to the municipal gardens then,” Viktor mused.
Kira raised her chin in order to speak right by his ear. She was actually quite tall, probably five feet ten inches to his six feet two inches. “Why, do you think? If this is a marriage in name only, who cares about photographs?”
“Evidence,” Nicholas offered grimly. “Anton wants his evidence of the event.”
“As he wishes then,” Viktor said with a shrug. “The marriage settlement was already signed last week.”
As Nicholas fell into step beside Viktor, Nicholas seemed to forget the tiny fairylike creature pacing beside them. “Have you found a place to stash her then?”
“Her father assured me she already has her own apartment,” Viktor explained. “I only need take over the rental agreement and provide a stipend.”
“Good,” Nicholas grunted. “I want this to be as little trouble as possible since I know you did not want this in the least.”
Viktor felt a tremor go through the woman at his side. “I don’t believe Kira wanted it either, Nicholas. But we have straightened things out between the two of us. She will lead her life, and I will lead mine.”
“Perfect.”
They emerged from the courthouse’s side entrance into a garden of surprising beauty. It was lush and colorful with flowers. A photographer was already ready and waiting. She raised her hand and gestured them over. After efficiently pushing Nicholas off to the side, Viktor and Kira were placed in front of an enormous tree. The photographer began snapping photos.
“Smile, please!” the photographer ordered.
Viktor stretched his mouth into what was probably a macabre parody of a grin. Glancing down, he took in the icy visage of the woman he had just married. She appeared as untouchable as a glass statue.
“Beautiful, beautiful!” The photographer crowed.
“All the world is a stage,” his young bride whispered.
Viktor gently touched her hand. “Perhaps life is simply a play and death is only the final curtain on the first act.”
“You’re saying that because of your wife’s death,” Kira said softly. “She’s one of the lucky ones.”
“She was murdered in the prime of her life,” Viktor said coldly. “How is that lucky?”
Kira shrugged one narrow shoulder. “She had the opportunity to love and be loved. Can we ask for anything else?”
Anything he might have said died on his lips. His last thought before he and his bride parted ways—perhaps for good—was that she was certainly far more than she appeared to be.
Chapter One
Three years later...
Kira shoved her cell phone back into her bag and continued to apply her stage makeup with a careful hand. Why her father was attempting contact now of all times was beyond her comprehension.
“Your dad again?” Tiana glanced over after applying thick black eyeliner to her brilliant green eyes.
“Yeah,” Kira muttered. She fiddled with her bun until she was satisfied with the placement of the baby’s breath in her hair. “I don’t know why he’s bothering. It’s not like he’s calling to tell me congratulations on finally earning the part of one of the fairies in Sleeping Beauty. He probably doesn’t even know if I’m still dancing.”
“So he just wants something?” Tiana guessed. “My dad is the same way.”
“Although, I think I’d rather that than to have a mother like Desiree’s,” Kira muttered. “The woman is so pushy that I hear she stormed the director’s office last week to complain that her daughter hadn’t gotten my part.”
“That part was yours,” Tiana said loyally. “You rocked that audition.”
“I’ve been working my tail off,” Kira admitted. “I would have been upset if I hadn’t gotten the part.”
“God, I’m so glad Sunday is the last performance of the week,” Tiana moaned. “My feet are killing me!”
“You need to toughen up.” Kira wrapped her toes and pulled on her worn baby pink toe shoes. She laced the ribbons up her calves and tied it all as tightly as possible. “I’m going to warm up. My call is one of the first.”
“Break a leg,” Tiana said dutifully.
“And you as well.” Kira smiled at her friend. She was glad to share a dressing room with Tiana. The other girl was warm and funny. Sometimes Kira was downright scandalized by the things Tiana was brave enough to say out loud.
“And don’t wait for me to come back to the dressing room after the show tonight!” Tiana waggled her eyebrows. “I have a date coming to pick me up!”
“Madame Bissett would rap your knuckles for that!” Kira wagged her finger at Tiana.
Tiana only waved off the warning. “I’m on birth control, and I need to get me some.”
Kira didn’t stand there like a moron and ask exactly what her friend meant by the word “some.” Occasionally Kira would overhear the other girls talking about the things they did with boys, or depending on the age of the dancer, a man. But Kira wasn’t brave enough to go there. When asked, she simply stated that she was married but estranged. It was a strangely comfortable place to be.
Lifting her leg to the barre in the area offstage used for warm up, Kira went through her stretching exercises. She closed her mind to anything but the dance she wa
s to perform. She listened for the music inside her mind. She found her cues and allowed the comforting familiarity to sooth the tension as she stretched out.
“Such flexibility,” Madame Bissett murmured. “You are truly this old ballet dancer’s dream student, my girl.”
“Thank you,” Kira murmured.
“And dedication,” Madame continued. “I never have to worry about my Kira running off with some male admirer after a show and sacrificing her career for one night of pleasure.”
“No, Madame,” Kira agreed. “I am married, but happily alone.”
“Yes. You are one of the fortunate ones.” Madame touched Kira’s back. “A little straighter in the spine, please. Good.”
Kira sank into the haze of ballet. Her feet automatically found the positions they had first learned as a clumsy four year old. Simple plies, battements, all came in a fluid motion that was disturbed by nothing. Finally in the background of her mind, she heard the first call for her entrance. The ballet was in progress, and she was about to go on stage.
Excitement created a tight knot in her belly, but there was no nervousness. She kept a cool smile on her face and prepared for her cue. The other fairies gathered behind her, but it was for Kira to enter first. Then the call came, and she dashed out onto the stage with her arms in perfect position. Her night had begun, and nothing else mattered.
Nearly two hours later, Kira made her way back to the dressing room she shared with Tiana. She was glad for once that her friend had other plans. Kira was exhausted from a week of performances and would be glad for the respite of a Monday off.
Pushing open the door, she stepped inside and let the heavy thing slam closed behind her. Leaning back against it, she heaved a sigh. She couldn’t wait to get her toe shoes off. At this point, Kira was with Tiana. Her feet were killing her!
“Hello, Kira.”
She nearly fell over in shock at the male voice. Whipping around, she gripped the door handle and prepared to flee. Then she frowned. The man standing in the corner of her dressing room leaning so casually against Tiana’s dressing table was familiar.
Viktor.
