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“That man has been yours for as long as I’ve known him,” she says. “Surely you can see that?”
I stumble in my heels and sit in a nearby chair, with Morgana beside me. “Don’t tease me,” I say. “He wants the place he feels he deserves in our bratva, and this marriage is the only legitimate way. All these people need to believe it’s real. He probably thinks if he can convince me too, his life will be easier.”
Morgana shakes her head. “Lili, honey. You gotta get past your insecurities and see what’s right before your eyes. The marriage isn’t the lie here.”
I look at her, confused. “I don’t understand.”
“Arman is a deep guy. He’s been through so much in his life, and he’s terrified of how he feels about you. When he saw a way to keep you, he took it. You say he’s doing it to become a Kislev; okay, that’s a consequence. But you are the reason he’s doing this. You’re the reason Arman does anything.” She smiles. “I saw how he kissed you. Don’t tell me you didn’t feel it.”
Arman’s lips. His hands, his body. His breath, those whispered words. He coaxed me back from the edge of the abyss with nothing more than his presence. The man protects me from everything, even myself.
The music segues into a lilting waltz. Avel beckons me, so I leave Morgana hanging and slip gratefully into my brother’s arms.
Any minute now, I’ll have to dance with Arman. I’m no longer afraid of panicking in front of everyone, but new fears are rising inside me.
Until now, I thought it was all a charade, and I was angry. Anger I can handle. But if Arman’s passion for me is real? I could be in serious trouble.
Because I want him too, and I think he knows it.
9
Arman
Avel's dancing with Lilyana, and I'm okay with that. As her twin, he's entitled to that privilege, but I can't stand by and watch other men's covetous stares. If anyone else dares to touch her, they won't live long enough to regret it.
I tap Avel on the shoulder. "There are probably at least five girls in this room who'd die to dance with you, rebenok," I say. "Leave Lili to me and go break a few hearts."
He smirks. "All right. Don't upset my sister, or I'll break your neck."
I nod with mock seriousness. "Consider me warned. Is it nearly your bedtime? Or are you just hungry or something?"
"Could be." Avel kisses Lilyana's cheek. "Have fun." He heads toward a girl in a black minidress who starts fussing with her hair when she notices him.
I laugh and pull Lilyana into my arms. "Move with me," I say. "Don't overthink it."
The string quartet plays a piece that sounds complicated, but Lilyana could probably play it by ear after one listen. She understands music effortlessly, turning strings and ivory into poetry on the air. I may not share her graceful genius, but I'm content to stand beside her in the shadows, dazzled and humbled by her talent. How could anyone think she's less than pure magic?
We sway slowly, and I feel her trembling. “What's wrong?" I ask. "Are you panicking again?"
"Yes," she says, her voice wavering. "It's you, Arman. We’re getting married, and I have no choice, but you don't have to mess with my head."
I brush my lips against her ear. "You messed with me first, tsvetok. I'm just responding in kind, and we have to give these good people what they want."
Vlad and Morgana are dancing beside us, locked in an embrace. Vlad's expression is venomous, and Morgana glares at him.
"Stop it," she says. "They're just dancing."
I can't look at Vlad; he knows me too well. He'll take one look at my face and see the truth, at which point he might bust out his favorite party trick and toss me over the balcony.
As the song meanders through the final bars, Vlad decides we've shown enough performative affection and takes to the stage, grabbing one of the mics from the stand in front of the cellist's chair. He waves us over, and Lilyana and I take our place beside him, hand in hand.
"Good evening, everybody," he says. "We're here to celebrate the engagement of my sister Lili and our family's close associate and friend, Arman Nechayev. It's my privilege to welcome Arman formally to my family and—"
"It's a fix!"
I don't know the heckler, but Vlad does. He falls silent, staring into the crowd.
"Would you like to come up here and say that, Ricardo?" Vlad asks. "I don't remember you seeking Lilyana's hand. Did you think you were in the running?"
