Under Control – A Fake Marriage Mafia Romance Read Online B.B. Hamel

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Mafia Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 90084 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
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I’ve never heard her talk like this before. I knew she and Dad left Baltimore suddenly and always had regrets about it, but I never understood why. They didn’t like to talk about their past.

“All right, Mama, it’s fine. He’s gone and he’s not coming back. Don’t worry so much, okay? Now, I’m making some food if you’re hungry.”

She seems mollified by that, but I can tell it still worries her. I snatch up the business card he left—nothing more than his name, Valentin Zaitsev, and a single phone number—and hide it before she can say anything about it.

But her reaction keeps bugging me, almost as much that bizarre meeting.

Chapter 3

Valentin

Ipour another vodka and place it down on the table in front of Oleg Fedorov. He accepts the drink with a grunted thanks and throws it back with no preamble as I return to my place across from him. The lights in the formal dining room are too bright, but a man like Oleg enjoys a little bit of flash and show, and I thought he’d appreciate the expensive artwork and the vintage chandelier.

Sometimes, flexing a little muscle and showing a little power can go a long way with a certain kind of person.

“When I find her, I promise you, Pakhan, I am going to kill her.” Oleg’s hands tremble with anger. His ruddy face is lined and creased from years of hard work, and his balding head gleams. A little gray stubble lines the rim of his skull. He’s well dressed in an expensive suit, but I know Oleg Fedorov would rather be in combat fatigues with a Kalashnikov rifle slung over his shoulder.

He’s a fighter and an old one. But after his commando days, he came over to America and began working as a mercenary and hired muscle for the various Bratva families. A man like that doesn’t usually live very long, but Oleg has a talent for making himself useful. He has two smart, hardworking sons, and his youngest daughter, Natalya, is allegedly a pretty girl. Over time, he slowly increased his family’s standing and prestige in Philadelphia, right up until I decided to make them into full associates of the Zaitsev Bratva.

My marriage to Natalya was meant to cement our relationship and start a new business arrangement moving forward.

“Nobody has to die, Oleg,” I tell him, trying to temper some of his rage. “Can you really blame the girl?”

“Yes,” he snarls. “Her father gave her an order. Her Pakhan expected her obedience. Instead, she runs off to France.” He spits the word like it’s a disease.

Turns out, Natalya was spotted in Paris living in some tiny hole-in-the-wall apartment.

“Natalya is not important. She was a mere formality.”

“Yes, Pakhan, but everyone knows about our arrangement. When word leaks that we can’t even control one single girl⁠—”

“It won’t matter,” I tell him, leaning forward. “Because I found a new wife.”

His eyebrows raise in surprise. He reaches for his glass, but it’s already empty. I refrain from refilling it for a moment.

“You have?” he asks finally. “I mean, are you sure, Pakhan? We can bring Natalya back⁠—”

I cut him off with a gesture. “I have no interest in marrying a woman that will simply run away and make my life harder. I found a new wife, and that will be our story. Natalya did not work out, and instead, we chose to move forward with our alliance through different means. You will be given new territory in Old City and lucrative control of my club out in the Northeast. I’ll provide funding to expand your high-end watch business on Jewelry Row. Your sons will be brought into my organization and given new responsibilities and the opportunity to move up in my ranks. Natalya will be all but forgotten, and there will be no rumors or other whispers. Do you understand?”

Oleg sits back and considers. He’s not stupid—he knows the stakes here. I have been Pakhan for years now, ever since my father was gruesomely murdered. He knows I understand how to project unity and strength in order to keep the Bratva together, and he’s aware I’ll do anything for my family.

Allying with Oleg and his boys will do exactly that. The Fedorovs have a reputation for vicious brutality, and that’s exactly the kind of power I need right now.

“Very well,” Oleg says after a pause. “I can see how this might work.”

I get up and refill his vodka again. This time, he sips it, watching me carefully. I top up my own glass and return to my position.

“My new wife is not Russian. You will spread rumors that I have been married for some time, and my arrangement with Natalya was never real. You will make sure people understand that my new wife is pregnant, and I am marrying her to ensure there are no succession issues moving forward. Do you understand?”


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