Iwoke up on the morning of my wedding with a routine that I doubted I could ever give up.
Running.
There wasn’t a chance in hell that I could leave my fiancé’s house, though. Just like the villa that I had called home, Maksim’s residence was heavily protected with patrolling guards. Security cameras were positioned all over the perimeter of the property. I’d noticed both details as soon as I was brought here last night.
Instead of coming home and being near me for the first night of our acquaintance, Maksim had sent his brother to be a guest in the house.
“Which one are you?” I asked him bluntly last night when he showed up. I’d only just had enough time to preview the entirety of the house before he’d come.
“Viktor,” he answered just as directly, taking no offense that I wasn’t simpering or sweet, quiet or meek.
I was surprised that he’d dignified me with an answer at all. Under my brother’s guidance, I was supposed to have been conditioned to think that men would never answer me. That I was always a pesky thing in the background.
Already, this brother was getting on my good side. He hadn’t done anything or said anything other than that he’d see me to the wedding venue in the morning. And he let me be after that.
I wouldn’t lower my guard that easily. Of course, I was being watched. I wasn’t here to befriend anyone, anyway. I wasn’t here to like my husband. I was here as a temporary show of good faith.
Viktor wasn’t going to let me run away from his brother. Nor would the butler, Jeremiah. The older household staff member understood how to linger in the background, and he wasn’t pesky. Still, I noticed every second of his presence, all too aware that he would watch my every move for Maksim. Jeremiah didn’t speak to me, but that was just fine. I didn’t need nor want another babysitter.
Maybe this was how Maksim envisioned this marriage going. With us spending time apart, neither of us having to put up with the other for very long.
Except today.
I slowed down on the treadmill then got off to shower. Finding this state-of-the-art gym was a blessing.
Today, Maksim would insist on making this wedding a real one for the sake of its legality.
So would Arturo, if he cared about the relationship with the Volkov Bratva as old friends and trading partners.
He can’t care that much.
He didn’t give me any details about spying.
And he isn’t going tobeat the wedding.
Sour dread sank in my stomach at that reminder. My brother should’ve been the one here to walk me down the aisle in place of my father. But he wasn’t here. Neither of them were, and it was hard not to think that I’d been…
Rejected.
Displaced.
Stop fussing about it.I shook my head as I went to shower. My marriage wouldn’t last, after all. I didn’t have to view this as anything but a temporary expectation to fulfill before I could go home. Until I could return to where I belonged, helping my brother run our Cartel.
A long, hot shower almost put me in a better mood. A good, hard run on the treadmill always worked as a mood-changer. The endorphin rush ended when I stepped into my guest room, though.
The sight of a white wedding gown had me cringing.
A maid must have brought it in while I cleaned up. Jeremiah had left me alone except for when he’d insisted that I stand for measurements last night, a hardship that had lasted all of a few minutes. I hadn’t imagined they’d be able to whip up—or find—a dress that quickly, but it seemed that the Volkov Bratva had ample resources to pull off the impossible.
I strode toward the long gown lying on the big bed, hating how easy it was to admire the cut of the lovely fabric and the daringslit up one side. No overly ornate embellishments distracted from the classic, simple appearance of the dress. A low-cut neckline was emphasized by the sewn-on gems, but it wasn’t gaudy. It was… just right.
Once I put it on and twisted to see myself in the mirror, I loathed how beautiful it was.
“Dammit.”
I didn’t want anythinggoodhere. I didn’t want to appreciate how spectacular this huge house was, how orderly everything seemed here. I especially didn’t want to owe my gratitude to Maksim or anyone in his family for this gown.
“I don’t wantyou,” I whispered as I eyed my reflection.
