FURY OF HEART

Elena's POV

Although I had never visited this hospital before, just now it felt all too familiar. Everything appeared to reflect the chilly indifference of the world I was born into-the white walls, the distant buzz of fluorescent lights, the faint whispers of staff strolling past. Though Mafia life had advantages, it also had drawbacks; I had always loathed the coldness around it. Here I was, though, standing at the emergency room's threshold, clutching sweets and flowers in a plastic bag, trying to somehow make the visit less embarrassing.

About Marko Kuznetsov, I conflicted emotions. Indeed, he was the ex-sister of mine and indeed, he was a dangerous man in every respect. But there was something about him that made me pity him. Not the merciless monster my relatives depicted him to be. Though no one ever bothered to find out, he had also suffered.

"Excuse me," I began, attempting to keep my voice steady as I went forward to the front desk receptionist. Here I am to see Marko Kuznetsov. He was admitted following an automobile accident.

The woman in her mid-40s who had dark circles under her eyes, the receptionist, stared at me like I had just asked her to clarify quantum physics. She tapped away on her keyboard then turned back to me with a neutral face.

"I'm sorry, Miss," she stated squarely. Early today, Mr. Kuznetsov was released.

My heartbeat dropped.

Not knowing exactly what I was expecting-maybe an apology, maybe a reconciliation, or maybe simply the chance to see the man who had previously been so vital to my sister, whose name had tormented the family for years-I had traveled all this way.

dismissed. Exactly as such. Wordless.

I tried to control the flood of emotions threatening to sweep over me by hard swallowing. I nodded, trying to keep it together, and left the hospital head held. Every stride made the blooms feel more weight in my grasp.

I kept thinking about Marko as I climbed into my car. His world was one of coldness, power and danger; my family hated him for it. They had never seen him the way I did-or perhaps it was that I had always seen the damaged man behind the mafia chief. Now, though, I couldn't help but wonder if he was out there somewhere secluded, maybe even hostile to everyone who had turned their back on him.

I considered the last time I saw him-many months ago during a family get-together. He had been strange as well as charming, dangerous, definitely. Perhaps I had imagined it, but I had seen something in his eyes-something gentle that defied the image he wore so successfully. Once the love of his life was my sister Isabella. Though they had blazed brilliantly together, they both dropped hard when things went south. Still, why did I find myself thinking of him?

"Stop it," I said to myself, shaking my head as I drew up to the mansion. He is only trouble. always has been.

The great house loomed ahead, austere and chilly. Though I had not yet entered, I could already feel the weight of the family secrets bearing down on me. Inside, everyone was waiting for something to shatter, their breath thick with tension.

I stopped as soon as I entered the living room. As I pulled the door open, it creaked slightly and there they were-my lover, Dmitri, twisted in my sister's arms. His lips pressed tightly to hers, and she answered with such force that my stomach turned around.

My breath seized in my throat. For a while, stunned in incredulity, I stood there. It felt unreal. My heart thumping against my chest, I turned from Dmitri to Isabella. Was this some kind of cruel joke?

Dmitry? I crooned, the word coming out harsh as though I had swallowed glass. With wide-open disbelief, he withdrew from Isabella, but his eyes revealed only panic-not an apology.

Quickly turning away from Isabella, his voice low and guarded, he whispered, "Elena, wait; it's not what it looks like."

My thinking spun. As I turned from Dmitri to Isabella, whose haughtiness did little to cool the fire burning inside me, I could hear the blood hammer in my ears.

With a shaky voice, "You're kissing my sister," I managed to utter. How is it not what it appears like?

"Elena, we...." Dmitri's voice wavered, and he came toward me, but I immediately drew back, my chest tight with wrath.

Isabella interrupted two times, her voice icy and matter-of-fact. "It's not a big issue." Elena, we had kissed just twice. Simply said.

I was not able to breathe. As I digested her words-her laid-back attitude-my vision tunneled. "It simply occurred. I kept repeating, doubting. "Isabella, you are my sister." And he is my boyfriend as well.

She crossed her arms, her mouth curving into a smile that froze my blood. "Well, I wouldn't have had to search elsewhere for consolation if you hadn't always been so busy saving face for this family. Dmitri and I simply... became closer.

Her voice suddenly sounded to me as angry, with a barely veiled disdain. But it transcended Dmitri as well. It covered everything, her entitlement, her jealousy, her ongoing rivalry with me.

Beyond sadness, I felt a deep, burning burn in my chest. It was in its most basic form betrayal.

Hissed at her, my voice faltering with fury, "You're just... disgusting." "How long have things been going on??"

"It doesn't matter," she murmured, pushing her hair back as if the whole thing were only a slight annoyance. "It's done right now. Dmitri's mine. I'm not sure why you're drawing such attention to this. Elena, here we are a family. You should desire us to find pleasure.

Family.

It hit me like a slap. The exact individuals I had trusted-those meant to have my back-were the ones who had just pushed a dagger right into my heart.

Then there was Dmitri, there like a moron, his eyes begging me for some sort of pardon. But he was the one who had broken something inside me-something I wasn't sure could be healed.

Do you even give any thought? My voice breaking, I asked him. "Do you give anything other than your own convenience any thought?"

He did not respond right away. Though it would not matter anymore, I could see the guilt in his eyes. Nothing could turn back the treachery.

"I'm sorry, Elena," he added, approaching closely. "I never wanted it to turn out like this. You must grasp, I-"

But I could no longer pay attention. My heart hammering with a mix of wrath, treachery, and a deep, gnawing ache, I turned on my heels. I wasn sure whether to believe or feel. Everything I understood about loyalty, about love, had just been ripped apart.

My footsteps resounding in the empty corridor, I dashed from the living room. Looking at either of them made me sick now.

But something stopped me as I arrived at the door-a slight noise from the room's corner. First quiet and almost invisible, it then got louder.

a little rustle.

After that-click.

Someone had recently unlocked the basement door.

My breath seized in my throat. I had no desire for research. Who was down there was not something I wanted to know. Still, I found myself unable to control. Slowly turning toward the steps leading down to the basement, the hair on the back of my neck stood on edge.

And then the lights flickered and went out as I started ahead.

The quiet was overwhelming.

Then I listened for his voice.

"Did you really think you could flee Elena?"

Anywhere I would find a voice I could identify.

Leo.

Then all seemed to be whirling out of control.

Elena's POV

I lost my breath. Standing still in the living room, the weight of the confrontation enveloped me like a suffocating cloud; my pulse was thumping in my ears. My sister, Isabella, stood a few feet away, her brows narrowed with an expression I couldn't quite understand; my mother, Viktoria, was standing with her customary grace and hard, uncompromising stare. Until it struck me. There was no guilt. Not regretful at all Just that known, stifling air of supremacy.

I had not sought any of this.

"Very true Elena," said Isabella's contemptful voice, cutting through my fog. "Are you going to create a scene around something so small? Dmitri and I-"

"Don't you dare," I yelled, my voice trembling with fury. You-"

I couldn't quite finish the statement though. Words failed me in that instant as nothing I said would restore the harm they had done.

Dmitri, The man I trusted-the one I had imagined would be by my side no matter what-had betrayed me. My intended boyfriend had also betrayed me. And my sister, among all people, had been the one to twist the knife.

"Elena," my mother's voice sliced across the room like a razor. I didn't even have to glance at her to find she was unconcerned by my wrath. Viktoria was always quiet and under control. "This is beneath you." I brought you better than this. According to your father, what would you do?

The reference to my father stung more than I would have been ready to confess. Built this empire by my father, the late Vetrova family patriarch, he had never been able to quell my mother's ravenous appetite for power.

She wore a deliberate contempt, tall and with perfect blonde hair falling over her shoulders. "You have overlooked Dmitri. He is a man of enormous worth; your selfishness has cost us more than you could possibly imagine.

Neglected him? What I was hearing seemed unbelievable. Are you really blaming me for this?

The same cold, contemptuous look Viktoria often gave when she wanted to remind me how insignificant I was in the larger scheme of things-that stated, it was just what I needed.

"Elena, your own career has always taken the stage. Your little business endeavors, your yearning to "break free" from the family Were you truly sure you could have both? While Dmitri was patient with you, family comes first. Dmitri agrees with that. You ought to do as well.

Shaking my head in shock, I moved away from her and felt my chest constrict as I tried to come up with the correct words. "This...this isn't my fault." I never requested any of this.

But Viktoria seemed not paying attention. She showed no interest in explanations, in justifications, in what I needed, or in why.

Not quite, Elena. What you need is what this family finds ideal. You will also start to line up.

Right now, blood was hammering in my ears, my heart accelerating. She was not merely referring to Dmitri, I realized. No; she was getting ready for something bigger. Not anything I had noticed approaching.

"Marko Kuznetsov," Viktoria continued, as though she were talking about a friend rather than the mafia kingpin with the ability to ruin families with one phone call. You will be married to him.

My breath seized in my throat, and I felt the floor drop underfoot. "What?." Whispering, appalled. "You're jokes."

She showed no flinch at all. "Do you think I would laugh about anything like this? Our family just needs Marko perfectly. His fortune and power will ensure the Vetrova name in the mafia scene for decades to come.

"Marko," I said, repeating as though his name might somehow make sense of the craziness she was advocating. Marko Kuuznetsov. the strong, merciless mafia boss once acquainted with my sister. He was a man who never took no for an answer; his reputation alone made even the toughest men shudder. She couldn possible believe that I would wed him?

"No," I answered, my voice firm in spite of the turmoil whirl-around me. "I am not going to do it."

You will, Viktoria said, her voice a lethal whisper. "You are without choice."

I gave a quick head shake. "Mother, I object to being used as some pawn in your power games. You believe I cannot find it? You are not interested in me. You only give this family's reputation, your position, top importance. Your sole concern is the benefits this marriage will provide.

"That's not true," Viktoria said quickly. "You're acting logically incorrectly."

"I'm being sensible!" I turned back, the rage boiling up now. "You have never given me any thought. Your only concern is who might grant you more authority and influence. I am not some instrument for your use!

I glanced at Isabella, whose quiet had been agonizing. She was simply silent, observing the interaction with a face that spoke it all-not hostile, nor defensive. She gave no thought at all. none of them did.

"You will marry Marko," Viktoria said, her voice steady. "Already the plans have been developed. Tomorrow night you are meeting him.

Not at all I am nowhere with him right now. Now I was shivering, every syllable weighty in my chest. I never want to marry him.

The look of my mother grew stiffer, her lips twisting into a meager smile. "I worry you will have no options. Our name, your father's, denotes everything in this life. And you will follow my advice if you wish to keep it intact and maintain your place inside this family.

I started to argue, but the words stuck in my throat as I thought back on Mila, my younger sister. She was barely ten years old, a child, and I knew what would happen if I turned away or battled this too hard. Everything I treasured, my mother would steal as well.

I would not be a pawn though. Not quite once more.

"Fine," I said, my voice heavy with rebellion. I'll be meeting him. But this-this is not done here.

For a split second, Viktoria's eyes softened, but it was a frigid gentleness. Elena, it never is with you. Still, you will act as needed. I hope you turn out to be the woman I raised.

I heard her just barely above the pounding in my ears as she turned to go.

And Elena...

Afraid to turn around her, I stopped dead still.

"Don't believe for a moment you can escape this. Try to; you won't only lose Marko's favor. You are going to lose everything.

I heard the faint sound of footsteps behind me as I stood there, the weight of my mother's comments smothering me. Turning around, my pulse skipped a beat as I met Dmitri squarely in the doorway.

"Is it true?" he questioned, his voice cracked and icy, far-off. Are you actually planning to wed him?

The question loomed like a promise-an underlying fact neither of us wanted to confront.

He moved closer, his eyes locking with mine before I could respond. The conflict between us grew more pronounced, and I realized the actual struggle was still to start.

The words scorched my throat, I moved away from her. Mother, never use him against me. You know I am not like you.

The lips of Viktoria curved into a tight smile. Elena, you believe you have options here? You will wed Marko Kuznetsov and do it without a word of protest. For the family, this is ideal.

Not at all. I staggered back, not wanting to be a pawn, and my voice broke. I am not going to wed him. You are unable to compel me.

Her gaze hardened, the frigid edge of her voice sending chills down my spine. Elena, I already have. The agreement is finished.

Elena's POV

I ought to have known more. I ought to have been ready for the cruelty running through the veins of my family like a poisoned thread. But I was not ready for what lay next even as the weight of the past hour fell on me.

I had assumed I had locked the draw-on. The one I kept the money I had stashed away from my family over the past few months. It was my means of guaranteeing my escape should the dream of my life in this mansion ever become intolerable. Now, though, that sense of anxiety wriggles at my belly. I understood. I knew it vanished before I even started to open the drawer.

Pulling the drawer open, my heart crashed into my chest and discovered it empty. My last means of escape, the carefully buried money disappeared.

"Elena, darling, did you honestly feel you could keep secrets from your mother?" Behind me, Viktoria's words sounded like a slick, deliberate calculation. I turned, angry flashes in my eyes.

"You-." I gasped, but as I whirled to meet her words left me. My mother stood at the doorway, her keen eyes shining with the same icy, familiar expression that had plagued me all of my life.

Isabella trailed behind her, her lips curved into a nasty smile.

You took it, I murmured, my voice hardly audible. You gathered everything. The money that belonged to me.

Isabella stepped forward like a predator, arched eyebrows. "Did you really think Elena could flee from us?" She snapped her tongue in imitation dismay. "Trying to flee the family, huh?" How charming. How naive.

Though my chest tightened with rage, there was also a hollow aching where my trust used to be. My own sister, my blood-she was taunting me, playing with the suffering she had brought about.

"Why?," I asked. Though they burned in my throat, I asked, pushing the words out. Why take what little I had left?

"Because you have nothing left, Elena," Viktoria said with chilly clarity, her eyes black with contempt. Do you believe you are unique? You are an idiot passing for something you are not. Do you truly feel you can rush off into the sunset hiding your money and live your life apart from us?

My palms shook with a mix of incredulity and wrath. You know, I was storing it for Mila. She would not have to grow up like this then. To be caught in your universe, exactly as I was.

Though it was not bright, Isabella laughed. It was deliberate and vicious. Oh Elena. You don't understand it, do you? There is no getting away from it. Not for any one of us. You believe that by trying to hide from the truth and hiding money will help you to change everything. That's not that straightforward.

The actual truth? My heart was smashing against my ribs while my head whirled. "You-." I gulped, then closed my eyes; the tears threatened to flow.

The chilly voice of Viktoria sliced through the mist in my thoughts. "Enough, Elena," said . Here there is not any sympathy. You have been let stay in this residence despite your unacceptable position as an unwed mother. Since you are my daughter, I have let your shenanigans go; but, enough is enough. Long enough, we have played by your rules.

I started to feel my gut slump. "What are you implying?"

With a decisive tone, Viktoria remarked, "Your future is no more yours to decide." "Marko Kuznetsov, you will be married tomorrow. There will be signatures on the paperwork. Should you object, results will follow. I won to allow you to discredit our name. You will perform your assigned task.

The words crashed into me, each one weighing more than the meager will I still possessed. The same people I was meant to trust, supposed to love, were choking me in this prison of a life.

"No," I said, the rebellion in me awakening, but knowing what it meant, I felt the horror slithering in. Marko Kuznetsov was not a man. The kingpin of the mafia, he was a man whose notoriety made even the toughest men terrified. Enough of his might had let me realize exactly how dangerous he was. You could not flee his coldness or cruelty.

"I won't marry him," I said, my voice quivering but firm. "I won't be used like this."

Isabella's eyes shimmered with something dark. Elena, you are not given options. Already signed on the deal is that Your revolt is only a little annoyance.

"No," I said, shaking my head as the weight of the circumstances dropped on me. You are mistaken. I'll flee. I am going to go. I will figure out a means of escape.

Viktoria stepped forward, her heels tapping the floor like the drum of an executioner. "You will do as advised, Elena; else, the results will be disastrous. All that counts is the power of your family; you will remember that.

"Mother, kindly," said I started to lose control and begged. "Please, please do not do this. I will wed anyone you wish, just not him. Marko.. My voice wavered, and I chastised myself for displaying even the most minute flaw.

But it was already too late. I could tell anything by the way my mother looked.

"Elena, sufficient," she said. You are going to wed him. The paperwork is under preparation; you will not destroy all I have worked for or all our family has created. You would suffer or you would obey.

I shivered; my spine stiffened as her words slid into me like frigid knives. Her tone's firmness denied any possibility for uncertainty.

Not. I gave a disbelieving head shake. You are false. You cannot always control me.

Isabella moved forward, her smile broadening like if she were seeing a play. "Marko will be a spouse to you even if he may be strict. And you will soon enough learn to value his... attentiveness.

I drew back at the idea. I will never love him.

She shucked. "Love is not at all relevant to it. Elena, business is what this is.

The remarks felt like a smack, but before I could reply, someone knocked on the door. One, solid knock that reverberated throughout the room's tension.

"Who is that?" My voice trembling with an uncertainty I wanted not to admit, I asked.

"Open it, Elena," Viktoria said to her angrily. "You have to face your future."

I turned toward the entrance, feeling as though I was about to drop. Again the knock reverberated. My fingers were cold and shaking, my heart flew as I grabbed for the handle. When I opened the door, a man I hadn't expected stood in front of me.

Marko Kuzneticov.

His icy, analytical gaze locked with mine, and for a second I couldn breathe. He moved forward; the door softly clicked behind him.

"Well, Elena," she said Marko had a smooth voice, yet his tone was harsh. Shall we start?

The voice of Isabella sank to a mocking whisper. Elena, you believe you can leave our planet? Nothing without us would be you. You're caught here.

My whole body shook with wrath as I closed my hands. You cannot get away with this. I will- "

Viktoria cut me off, her voice poisonous and icy. " Elena, you have already lost. Tomorrow is the signing of the documents. You will regret it or wed Marko Kuznetsov.

I tried to swallow hard, her words stranding my throat. "What are you referring to??"

The doorbell rang quickly and suddenly, slicing through the tension like a blade before I could register what had been said.