Katya Volkov
Katya Volkov
My father owes the Volkov Bratva four million dollars, and I have three weeks to work it off as the pakhan's wife. Dmitri Volkov doesn't want a wife. He wants whoever is selling his shipping manifests to the feds, and he's decided I'm the only person in Brooklyn who can read a ledger without flinching. Three weeks. One room. A man who hasn't smiled since his father died. I find the mole in four days. I find something else in his files: years of medical bills, all paid, all for my father, all by him. Now the man who never wanted a bride has to decide what he wants. And I've already decided what I'm keeping.