Mafia Boss’s Arranged Bride by Bella King

Chapter 4

Nikolai

If I could have her, I probably wouldn’t hesitate to say yes, but of course, my brother Michail must be the one offered Annika’s hand. He even asked me about her, but I wasn’t aware it was because they were getting married.

I was kept in the dark by my father. He doesn’t care much for me, but I think that’s because he’s afraid of what I would do if I were the one to rise to power. Michail is weak, and he’s not nearly as ruthless as I could be.

I take a drag of my cigarette before flicking the half-smoked butt deep into the darkness of the wet pavement. Rain has washed over the entire city, but it’s done nothing to clean the filth that clings to the inside of my skull, corrupting my mind with the maddening thoughts of what it would be like to be the one in ultimate power.

Everyone else is inside drinking, and I’m waiting in the car with the window down like a fucking taxi driver. I told them I didn’t want to come inside. This isn’t my business, and Annika isn’t my woman, but I’m starting to suspect they’re going to be inside for longer than they promised.

I have half a mind to drive away right now and leave them to their mindless ramblings and niceties, but where would I go? I’ve already canceled my appointments at the request of my father. He insisted that this was important and that I should watch over Michail and make sure he behaved with his wife-to-be.

Keep dreaming.

I’m not his caretaker. I’m his brother, but we’ve never had much in common. I’ve always felt like a stranger to him, and I’m sure that feeling is mutual. He’s not mad that I haven’t joined the rest of the family inside. He doesn’t care.

I lean back in my seat, savoring the gentle creak of the leather as I light up another cigarette. These long ones came from Russia, a rare treat from my travels. They’re hard to get there and impossible when you’re in the United States, but my mafia connections serve me on all fronts, not just business.

Crickets chirp in the night as I take slow drags of my cigarette, savoring what’s left of the acrid smoke as I double-inhale it as it swirls through the air in front of me. My father hates it when I smoke in the car, as though he doesn’t do it too, so I make it a point to smoke as many of these goddamn things as I can when I’m made to drive.

The house glows like a fire, but it’s too distant for me to feel the warmth from it. I consider going inside, interrupting the party, and telling Michail what a fucking loser he is just to unsettle his bride. I’d be kicked out almost immediately, but it would break up the boredom a little.

I laugh to myself at the thought. I’m already on such thin ice with the family. One wrong move and I could very likely have a target on my back. I don’t think my father is above it, although I’d like to think that he was. It’s difficult to trust people these days. Loyalty used to be the central theme of the mafia, and now it’s more like an afterthought.

Everything corrupts, even the things that have already been corrupted. They just rot further until they dissolve completely and no longer exist, creating the soil for the next atrocity to grow from.

As the night wanes, I start to wonder what I’m even doing here. I want to start up the car and leave, but I opt to go for a walk instead. Maybe I could get out and stretch my legs, taking a harmless peak around the property.

I enjoy another cigarette before I move. There’s plenty of time in the night to kill, so I’m not in a hurry. I doubt very much that Michail and the others will be coming out soon, and when they do, they’ll be too plastered off vodka, what I call expensive rubbing alcohol, to care about the smell of smoke.