Guarding the Bratva's Daughter

I have been the bratva's hostage since I was twelve years old. My father is selling me to a Milanese arms broker to secure a truce, and to make sure I arrive in one piece he has assigned me Anton Reznik. Anton killed the only person I ever loved when I was sixteen. He didn't deny it when I asked. He just stood in the stairwell of the Hotel Aurora and told me the date down to the hour. Six weeks until the wedding. One apartment. One hallway between our bedroom doors. I refuse to be a thing that is handed over. If I have to use the man I hate to prove I still belong to myself, I will. Anton lets me, and it costs him everything he had left. When the broker finds out, he asks for my life as payment. Anton goes to my father and puts his pistol on the table.