Unwillingly Yours

This is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places, events, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental. UNWILLINGLY YOURS copyright @ 2023 by Brook Wilder and Scholae Palatina Inc. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embedded in critical articles or reviews. Book 1 of the Korolev Bratva trilogy. Cover by Angela Haddon Book Cover Design: http://www.angelahaddon.com/ AUTHOR’S NOTE This book uses Russian naming conventions. Formal greetings by Russian characters will use a patronymic, which is composed of a first name and the character’s father’s name. Aleksey’s formal name is Aleksey Fyodorovich, which means Aleksey, son of Fyodor. His sister Alyona’s formal name is Alyona Fyodorovna, which means Ayona, daughter of Fyodor. Russian names also use diminutive names to show closeness and affection—such as parents to children, friends to friends, or loved ones to each other. Alternatively, it can be used as an insult by someone who should otherwise greet the person in a formal setting. Aleksey’s diminutive name is Alyosha, and Alyona’s diminutive name is Alya. The Korolev Bratva series can be enjoyed alone on its own, but reading experience is greatly enhanced if you’ve read the Suvorov Bratva trilogy beforehand, as some characters and events are referenced. You can read book 1 of the Suvorov Bratva – Dark Promise – today (free on KU): https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BG7BQJGR TABLE OF CONTENTS UNWILLINGLY YOURS 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 Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen Chapter Seventeen Chapter Eighteen Chapter Nineteen Chapter Twenty Chapter Twenty-One Chapter Twenty-Two Chapter Twenty-Three Chapter Twenty-Four Chapter Twenty-Five Chapter Twenty-Six Chapter Twenty-Seven Chapter Twenty-Eight Chapter Twenty-Nine Chapter Thirty Chapter Thirty-One Chapter Thirty-Two Chapter Thirty-Three Chapter Thirty-Four Chapter Thirty-Five Chapter Thirty-Six Chapter Thirty-Seven Chapter Thirty-Eight Chapter Thirty-Nine Chapter Forty Chapter Forty-One Chapter Forty-Two Epilogue OTHER BOOKS BY BROOK WILDER UNWILLINGLY YOURS Prologue Elia I felt sick standing in front of that great big door. Growing up, whenever Father called, I’d always felt a massive knot twist up in my stomach and yank terribly at my nerves. But back then, and every time for years, I’d feel a warm hand take mine away from my lips and give me a warm squeeze to spare my teeth from gnawing my fingernails down to nubs. My big brother Luca would always give me a teasing grin and ruffle my hair to annoy me. Back then I always thought he was just adding on torture to the wait… Now, I realized how much he was trying to keep me steady. But Luca was dead. Gone. And now, I was alone to face whatever waited for me in my father’s study. I sucked in a breath as the doorknob twisted and swung open. Be strong, Elia, Luca would say. I tried to imagine him standing beside me, smiling and teasing. The Tarallos have always been made of stronger stuff. You just have to find it. Find it. Like it was something I could just dig for and discover, like some hidden treasure on a map. “Elia,” I heard my father, Ludovico, call, his voice pulling me over the threshold. I took my place in front of the massive mahogany desk and waited in silence as my father turned from the large window and faced me with flat eyes. The testament to our lineage was clear in the way his eyes stared at me, vacant of emotion. It was the same look I had seen every morning in the mirror after Luca died. “I have great news,” my father said and motioned to the desk where a few documents were laid out—I realized—to face me. I glanced at him before I approached and peered down at the papers, frowning as I reviewed the information. But none of it made sense to me. A familiar yet hated face stared back from a photograph atop the papers. In another life, I might’ve found him handsome. But now, all I could feel was a curl of hatred and revulsion. It filled me so abruptly that I had to look away. “What is this?” “Our ticket to peace,” my father said. I blinked up at him, bewildered. He remained silent for a moment as he pulled out the silver case of cigars he kept in his drawer. The smell wafted toward me, and I bit down on my cheek to keep my face from wrinkling with distaste, waiting for him to elaborate. He took a puff before pointing at me with the cigar like it was a dagger. “Aleksey Korolev,” he began. “Is finally leaving New York to take up his position as the Pakhan of the Korolev Bratva.” You mean the bastard who murdered Luca, or did you forget that? I kept my venomous thoughts to myself, but I knew my father wasn’t blind to the clear disdain on my face. “And as you know, I have been thinking about your prospective marriage for some time now,” he continued. “I’ve made my decision. One that guarantees our family’s future.” I swallowed tightly, the knot of anxiety in my gut squeezing and unwinding all at once. It was some relief to confirm my deepest fears. But something wasn’t right. I could tell from the way my father stared at me. “Who?” I asked, trying to keep my voice neutral. He sighed, as if my question was the most ridiculous suggestion he’d ever heard. “You’ll be marrying Aleksey himself.” My heart stopped in my chest, and I felt the blood drain from my face and hands. A chill unlike any other stifled my chest. It was impossible to hold back the expression of shock and horror on my face as