Or force laughter to feel confident.
Or allow stupidity to drag down his day.
He was also the sort of boss who’d have women fawning over him. Sexier than any man had the right to be, he was just the kind of attractive specimen who’d convince a nun to do something dirty.
Wickedly handsome.
Sinisterly hot.
You can’t be serious.
I swallowed, my mouth suddenly dry, as I realized the joke was onme.
I was supposed to marry this massive, hulking man?
Who could try to eviscerate me with a stare that was both smoldering and scolding?
“Maksim, I present my beloved sister, Carina Isabella Maria Garcia.”
I blinked, jarred back into having to act or speak with my brother’s flowery introduction.
Beloved, my ass.
He couldn’t very well tell my fiancé what a pain in the ass I was.
I stepped forward with his cue as he held his hand out to me and shot me a stern look to cooperate.
He didn’t care if I didn’t want this to happen today. My wishes didn’t count.
Yet, as I approached the Volkovs, Maksim and another brother, probably, a man who resembled him and stood behind him, I forced myself to maintain an icy, regal mask of indifference.
They weren’t here to get a bride.
They were here to accept a remedy for their grievances for how my brother tried to thwart them at the last minute.
I dipped my chin in an acknowledgment, and that was about all I wanted to do.
No one said I had to be cordial. No one said I had to pretend to be happy or compliant. I would be. I’d leave with them and be stuck in this stupid marriage, but I’d be damned if I smiled and gave anyone the impression that I was cool with this.
Play along.
Do what you have to until your stupid brother begs for you to come back home.
“Pleased to meet you, Carina,” Maksim said in a sure, cocky tone that implied he never had to simper or wait for approval from others. He instinctively commanded it somehow.
You won’t getanythingfrom me.
I didn’t react as he took my hand and lifted it to his mouth. The touch of his warm lips shouldn’t have jolted me and sent that zing of awareness lancing through me. It did. But I didn’t show it.
Arturo resumed kissing ass, complimenting Maksim and Viktor, who had to be the other Volkov. Acting like a weak moron, he probably thought he was being suave and cool, admiring theirsuits and suggesting that we enjoy the trip out of here before the threat of a storm could come through.
All the while, I stood there like a thing, not an intelligent woman who could rule this damned Cartel.
I stayed silent and passive as they discussed the nature of a wedding that Arturo would “regrettably” not be able to attend.
I kept my mouth shut and screamed internally as my brother told Maksim that “of course” all the proper documents would be signed off for the legitimacy of this marriage.
Call it legitimate all you want.
