For Dmitri and me, it felt like we were both holding our breath. Though, if I had to bet, I would put this ring on the fact that he was perfectly calm while I sat there thinking about everything.
My eyes drifted to my ring finger. It looked more expensive than the old one. Every time I looked at it, a different combination of emotions moved through my chest. Warmth. Terror. Excitement. A strange sense of peace that didn’t fully settle before another feeling replaced it. The ring looked beautiful on my hand. And I knew I agreed to a lifetime commitment with the hottest man I had ever met.
The ring seemed to change everything. Dmitri didn’t leave early this morning, as he usually did. We woke up together, showered together, dried our hair in front of the same mirror, and got dressed in the same room. The ridiculous part was that we did it all without actually talking.
The way he whispered the words ‘I love you’ last night replayed in my head, and my stomach warmed. I shifted in my chair, cleared my throat, and looked down at my porridge.
Why was I eating porridge again? Well, I deserved it.
I was the one who drank whiskey on an empty stomach. I remembered stepping out of the bathroom that morning, hoping to find Dmitri waiting for me. I carried that small, foolish hope with me, only to realize he was already gone. The ache that followed settled in my chest and refused to leave. Drinking felt easier than sitting with it. Looking back now, it was possibly one of the stupidest decisions I had ever made.
“Okay, fine, I will talk.” Grandma set her cup down. “Should I start planning the wedding? I should. I have ladies who can help. Where do you want to have it?”
I looked up at her, surprised.
Caitlin cleared her throat. “I can help too. I can design the dress.” She sounded like she’d been waiting for this moment.
“Yes, good. We will hire her.” Grandma turned to me. “Inna, dear, what do you think?”
I turned to Dmitri. He had his cup raised to his lips, the look on his face carrying quiet approval, as though he was perfectly prepared for whatever decision landed on the table.
“We will discuss the wedding later,” I said carefully. There was still too much sitting in my chest for me to think about venues and dresses. The engagement itself was barely settled in my mind. Then there was my father, my mother, and everything that came with them. A wedding date was not the first thing that needed to be addressed. “There’s a lot to sort through first.”
“We can plan while you sort through it. Just give us a date, and we will be ready.” Grandma narrowed her eyes at me. “You don’t seem happy. Did he force you to marry him again?”
I opened my mouth, but Dmitri beat me to it.
“She put the ring on her finger herself,” Dmitri said, and my mouth fell open. “You should focus on your health.”
“My health is perfect now that I know you’re marrying her,” Grandma defended herself.
My eyes remained fixed on Dmitri as I recalled exactly how that ring ended up on my finger. He slid it on before I even finished saying yes—the audacity of this man. Under different circumstances, we would have been arguing about that statement. But Grandma’s health came first.
“We can celebrate your birthday first. Then we discuss the wedding after that,” I said, mostly to move the conversation away from me.
Grandma waved the suggestion away as though it were a fly. “My birthday doesn’t matter. You come first. Two months is too far.”
“I thought so too,” Dmitri said.
Grandma immediately nodded in agreement.
This bastard.
I turned toward him, ready to scold him for being completely unhelpful, but Akim saved him when he stepped into the dining room. He greeted everyone respectfully before moving toward Dmitri.
“Boss. You can confirm the purchase of the building you told me to buy.”
My stomach dropped. Was this the building he threatened to buy last night? He actually did it?
This man threw money at problems the same way other people threw words.
“Akim, why don’t you join us?” Grandma gestured to thenearby maid. “Set a place for Akim.”
Akim didn’t sit immediately. He stood there processing the invitation, as if nobody had ever informed him that dining tables could be used for something other than receiving orders.
“What is this about buying a building anyway?” Grandma asked. “You want to start a new branch?”
“My beautiful wife isn’t comfortable in the mansion anymore. She wants us to live in Little Haiti.” Dmitri said it with complete composure and turned to face me.
