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On the ice, they call me "East." I'm fast, sharp, and just cocky enough to make it work. Off the ice? I'm elbows-deep in takeout and doing everything I can to avoid grown-up responsibilities. So, when Luka-our team's left winger-asks the single guys for a favour and we end up drawing straws, I don't blink. Until I pull the short one... and find out I've just agreed to marry his little sister. I figured she'd be a stuck-up Russian ballerina with the opposite calorie intake goals, the personality of cold toast, and maybe even a convenient language barrier to save us both from awkward small talk. One quickie divorce and a green card later, we'd both be free again. Easy, right? Then Katerina Popovich steps off a private jet in sky-high heels, wrapped in a fur coat that probably costs more than all my hockey gear combined, with two bodyguards trailing her like shadows. And that's when I realised that I didn't just agree to marry a Russian ballerina-I agreed to marry a mob princess trying to dodge an arranged marriage her father orchestrated with another crime family. But the real threat isn't her mobster father. It's Luka-my teammate and the guy giving me murder-eyes at practice like he's calculating how many bones he can break before it messes with our playoff chances. Because the only thing more dangerous than marrying a mafia princess. is catching real feelings for my best friend's little sister.