Galina is about to marry a monster. A bully. The guy who made most of her high school life miserable.
Mikhail Belsky is the son of the man who rules the Belsky Bratva. He’s a dangerous man, but what he wants, he gets. When it comes to Galina, he will not allow her to marry anyone else. She will belong to him. Gone are the cruel jokes, the mocking laughter, and in its place is a man determined to have her at his side.
Mikhail has never hated Galina. He bullied her because he couldn’t have her. When he learned who Galina was meant to marry, he knew he couldn’t allow her to fall to that fate, so he gave his father an ultimatum.
If his father wanted the Belsky Bratva to flourish, then he’d get Galina, but if his father gave her to someone else, Mikhail would see to it that the Belsky name crumbled.
Galina belongs to him.
In a shocking twist of events, she and Mikhail were the same age, well, a year apart. She was twenty-one, Mikhail was twenty-two, but she already knew he was considered one of the scariest men around. Rumor had it, he had his first kill at twelve years old. The circumstances surrounding that kill were a little confusing, but even still, she had looked in those eyes while he’d been threatening her, and known. His eyes were those of a killer.
For years this man had bullied her.
They didn’t go to a normal school, but one specifically for members of the Bratva, known as Belsky High. Yep, the school was owned by him, so no matter what he did or said, Mikhail was in charge. Teachers were afraid of him. They had no choice but to go to a private school, because the Belsky Bratva trusted no one. They rarely allowed outsiders in, and if an outsider went to high school with them, they were in for a rough ride.
Mikhail had hated her on sight. She didn’t know if it was because of the way she looked, seeing as she wasn’t a slender blonde, but even at a young age, she’d been … fat. Ugh, she hated that word, even her mother hated that word, and insisted she wasn’t fat, she was curvy.
She heard a lot of people talking, and knew many insisted she was fat.
Mikhail, her future husband, grabbed her hand and locked their fingers together. She had no choice but to follow his lead, as he lifted their raised hands.
The Nikitins and Belskys had always been close. Their fathers were the best of friends, and she had gotten used to Mikhail being around her home quite regularly. Mikhail was friends with her brother Peter, even though there was a five-year age gap, and Peter was the older of the two.
Boris, Mikhail’s father, was suddenly there, nudging them onto the dance floor. This was the last thing she wanted. Her smile was starting to hurt her face.
The music started up, something slow, romantic, which made Mikhail put his arms around her and pull her close. She wanted to cringe.
“I never knew you would look forward to marrying me,” Mikhail said.
There was nothing she could do while they had an audience. Her mother had told her to be very careful with her stance, especially at events like these. There were too many vultures waiting to surface, and she had no choice but to keep a smile on her face and look like the doting, loving, fiancée she’d become.
“I don’t want to marry you. Trust me, this is not for me at all.”
He leaned in close and tutted against her ear. “Come on, Galina, you don’t have to be that way. I always knew back in high school you were tempted by me. You couldn’t resist me.”
“In your dreams.”
“And now your dreams are becoming a reality.”
She wasn’t going to slap him. Her parents would be so pissed with her if she did. Mikhail was doing this on purpose to get a rise out of her.
On the night of their engagement party, her father had told her they were going to a formal event. From the moment they walked through the main doors, it had been one surprise after another.
Galina tried to ignore him, but Mikhail had always been a master at getting under her skin.
“You know what this means?” Mikhail asked.
“What?”
“That I was right when I said one day soon, I was going to fuck you until you begged and screamed for it. I was right.”
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