Relentless by Arianna Fraser EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Arianna Fraser
- Language: English
- Genre: Contemporary Women’s Fiction
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
In which this is the worst wedding ever.
Morana…
It’s my wedding day.
And I am so screwed.
The hideous old troll waiting at the altar for me is close to sixty. He has red
veins running through his nose and cheeks ruddy from decades of heavy
drinking and a heavy, oily tobacco stink coming from his pores.
I’d discovered all of this when I met him last night for the first time, when
he cornered me and kissed me. Bile rises in my throat and I take a couple of
deep breaths. If I vomit down the front of my Monique Lhuillier wedding
gown, my father will take his belt to me.
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Not that my husband-to-be will be any better.
Vadik Stepanov is one of the Moscow Six, the Bratva families that rule the
crime world. He’s made most of his money in human trafficking, strip
clubs, bordellos… he is the lowest form of life that profits from human
suffering, he’s next-level evil.
Anatoly Ivanov, my father, is giddy with joy over the match. My life will
likely be horrific – and if I’m lucky, short – but his only interest is in the
alliance my marriage will bring between the Stepanov Bratva and his.
Our family’s organization under his father’s rule was fearsome and
powerful. The Ivanov Bratva no longer strikes terror in the hearts of men,
and oh, how my father misses those days. Bad luck and dwindling
connections have shrunk our reach. I could say that it is the current
Pakhan’s sloppy leadership and poor business decisions that have brought
us so low, though that would mean a beating I may not come back from.
If I’d had the choice to plan anything about my wedding day, I would have
loved to have been married in one of the exquisite little chapels at St.
Basil’s Cathedral near Red Square. It’s some of the most brilliant, colorful
architecture Russia has to offer. But of course, the spectacle both Bratvas
insist on can only be contained in the massive Cathedral of Christ the
Savior, the biggest Russian Orthodox church in Moscow.
“Turn your head, Miss.”
The stylist is a stern German woman who’s roughly brushing my hair into a
complicated updo. I don’t know where they got her from, but she looks
more like a prison warden than a stylist. She had walked into the bride’s
dressing room at the Cathedral of Christ the Saviour and told me to remove
my clothes.
I could see two Ivanov guards in the hallway, grinning at me. “I’ll do it as
soon as you shut the door,” I said coldly.
Thank god, she didn’t put up a fight about that, using her energy instead to
wrestle me into a wedding dress that makes me look like a cake topper. It’s
a gigantic chiffon monstrosity lavishly encrusted with Swarovski crystals
that sounds like a wind chime when I move.
Fortunately, I’m completely covered up by the time the door opens without
a knock.
“Your father sent me in to make sure you were behaving and not crying like
some spoiled little bitch.”
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