I sift through some of the papers, not really knowing what I’m looking for. Anything that will tell me more about the man I’m about to marry. I try turning on the laptop, but it’s password-protected. Of course.
My eyes catch on the same folder from before, the one about the orphanages. The one I barely glimpsed last time, before he caught me.
I open it. And inside, I find page after page of anonymous donations. Large sums sent to multiple orphanages across the city and even a few in Russia. The detailed record show they are from him.
This is a side of Maxim I never expected to see.This makes him feel more human. More real.
But then guilt hits me. This feels like breaching his privacy. He clearly wants this part of himself hidden, that’s why the donations are anonymous. I close the folder quickly, suddenly uncomfortable.
I shouldn’t be here.
I slip out of the office and head back to the kitchen for breakfast. After eating, I go upstairs and start arranging my things in his massive walk-in closet, placing my clothes next to his suits and shirts.
The sight of our belongings side by side makes my stomach flutter. This is becoming real.
I’m really going to marry him. This house, this room, this life. It’s becoming mine whether I want it or not.
In the afternoon, I finally decide to go wedding dress shopping with Milana, Kira and Irina. We hit several wedding designer boutiques before I finally find what I actually like.
All three women actually had tears in their eyes when I walked out in it. Though it needs to be altered in certain areas, the boutique’s in-house seamstress, assures me they will have it ready before the wedding.
I spend the rest of the day, drinking bottomless mimosas with the ladies, and putting final touches to the wedding planning.
By evening, when I get back to the estate, I'm a little disappointed when I find out that Maxim still isn't home. I push the feeling away, and decide to change into something more comfortable and see if I can trick Olga into allowing me to prepare dinner.
I'm stepping out of the closet when the bedroom door opens.
Maxim walks in looking rugged and unfairly handsome. His dark blond hair is rumpled, like he’s been running his fingers through it all day, and his eyes carry the heavy exhaustion of someone who hasn’t slept enough.
His shirt is slightly wrinkled, sleeves rolled up, revealing those strong, tattooed forearms. Even tired, he's still striking.
“Hi,” I say, trying to sound casual.
He gives me a short nod. “Hi. Get dressed. We have to go out.”
I blink. “We’re going out?”
“We have an event to attend. The Pantheon dinner is tonight. The president specifically requested your presence.”
“You’re just telling me now? You couldn’t have given me a heads-up?” I guess he's still an ass.
He shrugs, already loosening his tie. “It escaped me. Could you just go get dressed? We're already running late.”
I want to argue, but the look on his face tells me it’s not optional. “Fine. I need something to wear.”
“No need to worry,” he says, walking over to the closet and pulling out a large white box I didn't notice earlier. “I already got you a dress.”
He hands it to me. I open the box and lift out a stunning green gown. The fabric is luxurious, with subtle embellishments that catch the light, and a fitted silhouette that flares slightly at the bottom.
This dress wasn't there when I arranged my things in the closet this morning. Did he send it while I was out?
I check the size, it's perfect.
“How did you know my size?” I ask, surprised.
He doesn’t answer, just gives me that intense look. “Is the dress okay?”
I nod, a little dazed. “It’s beautiful.”
