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“So that was unexpected,” Arman murmurs. “Your brother is gonna kill me.”
“I think he might kill me, too,” I scrunch my nose. “Someone was talking as if marrying me is a burden on you, so—”
“—you thought you’d demonstrate how your kiss leaves me breathless?” He slips a hand into the slit in my dress and caresses my thigh. “Mission accomplished, tsvetok. These people now think I’m a fool for you, and who am I to deny it?”
My eyes are closed, and I bask in his words. Bullshit or not, it’s so satisfying to hear this handsome man speak this way.
“Shit,” Arman mutters.
I glance over his shoulder and see Vlad approaching. He grabs my wrist and pulls me to my feet. “No need to make a spectacle of yourself, Lili.” He puts me behind him and addresses Arman. “You shouldn’t let her do that,” he says, his voice low.
Arman leans back and fixes Vlad with a scowl. “What do you want, brat? We must present a united front. Lili’s safety and the security of your bratva depend on it. A couple of staged kisses should be worth that.”
My stomach churns. Arman lies with well-practiced ease, but I can’t help but wonder whether he’s trying to fool Vlad or me. Surely, no man could kiss like he does and feel nothing.
“Sit through the meal without any more theatrics,” Vlad instructs, pulling out a chair beside Arman. I sit down. “You gotta make it look right. I understand that. Lili tells me you haven’t made any advances towards her, so I acknowledge that I may be overreacting, but I don’t have to like it.”
“As I mentioned,” Arman’s expression remains impassive, “I have a job to do, and this time, it won’t take ten years. You know me—I’m committed.”
Arman waits until Vlad is well out of earshot before speaking, leaning close to my ear to avoid eavesdroppers.
“Thanks for not telling Vlad the truth. I don’t think he’d kill me, but it would be awkward.”
“I didn’t need to lie,” I reply. “He asked if you had done anything I didn’t want. He’s so entrenched in the idea that I’m the sheltered child he’s known all his life. It never crossed his mind that I’m an adult with my own thoughts on the matter.”
Arman’s hand sneaks beneath the table, slipping under my dress. His warm palm envelops my thigh, applying a gentle squeeze.
“And what are your thoughts, baby girl?”
Before I can respond, Sasha bursts out of the kitchen door, leading an army of servers to a chorus of approval from the diners. While everyone takes their seats, platters and bowls find their way to the right places, but it’s an Italian restaurant and still somewhat chaotic. Friends and associates drop by our table as we eat, offering congratulations and doing their utmost to align themselves with the possible future leader of the Kislev bratva.
I remain quiet, eating little and counting down the minutes until we can leave. As the night progresses, Morgana whispers into Vlad’s ear and eventually persuades him to leave, making excuses about the babysitter to anyone who asks. It’s a cover story—our housekeeper, Dulcie, is looking after their child tonight. Five minutes after they depart, Arman takes my hand.
“I don’t think your older brother is waiting outside with a baseball bat, after all,” he says. “It’s time to go, tsvetok.”
17
Arman
Lilyana remains silent, her gaze fixed on the view from the car window. I take advantage of the quiet to gather my thoughts.
I need to keep a close watch on my future wife while also neutralizing any potential threats from the Morettis. Vlad could seize any opportunity to sabotage the engagement; if he believes my relationship with Lilyana might put her safety at risk, he might forbid the marriage.
I went to fucking jail for Vlad Kislev, and I’m still not good enough in his eyes. He knows how I feel about Lilyana, and his insistence that I keep my distance from her feels like an insult. Does he think I would harm her? Is my loyalty in question?
Lilyana is no longer the little girl Vlad swore to protect. I understand that passing on the responsibility is difficult, but no one will fight for her as fiercely as I will and always have.
Sergey was a despicable man who didn’t deserve a daughter like her. His relentless cruelty nearly crushed her spirit, but she endured, remaining gentle and kind, with a strong heart. I worried about that little girl for ten long years, only to return and find that she no longer existed. In her place, I discovered a woman—a stunning, elegant woman with only patchy memories of the fateful night when everything fell apart.
I need to stay focused. Vlad will likely ease up once Lilyana and I are married; deep down, he knows I cherish her even more than he does. He just needs to trust me and let go of his doubts.
Lilyana starts tossing the couch cushions onto the floor as soon as we’re inside my apartment.
“Stop it,” I say. “What are you doing?”
“I’m tired,” she snaps. “And I’m nothing more than a source of amusement to you. An ornament. A pet.” Her sharp tone carries a hint of sadness. “Pets sleep on the floor.”
“I had a dog when I was a kid,” I say, trying to distract her. “I was allergic to him, but he still slept on my bed, so your logic is falling apart already. Would it be so bad to be a pet? This is Manhattan; they’re usually doted on. Maybe I should carry you around in my purse?”
