Page 16 of Lord of Justice

"I'm not sleeping with you." That comes out a bit more abrupt than I'd intended.

He's checking his phone, rapidly sending out text after text. "That is the least of my concerns."

We pull up to a tall, black, monolithic high-rise, the moon glints off it weakly, less like a reflection and more like the building is a black hole, sucking any light from the sky.

"Of course," I murmur to myself.

"What?" Andrey actually lifts his gaze from his phone to look at me.

"Of course, your place would look like Sauron's Dark Tower inLord of the Rings."

Something flashes over his stupidly handsomeface and is instantly gone again. Was that… asmile?

I was at his twin brother Nikandr's penthouse once for his wedding to Caroline and it seems they have similar tastes. The elevator opens into a circular entry, polished black granite and charcoal grey walls. There's a huge floral arrangement on the (of course) black table there. The flowers look like they're cringing at all the stern, unyielding decor around them.

I'm suddenly so tired, and he notices. "Come with me."

Walking up the staircase gives me vertigo, his living room is curved, like the side of the building and the view from the three-story windows spreads out aggressively, the sea of lights from buildings all over the city, and the dark water of the Hudson River. It feels a little like I'm falling through the air and I turn away.

"I had the largest guest room prepared for you," he says, leading me to a door on the left. "But should you prefer another room after you've been shown around tomorrow, you're welcome to change. Never," his tone drops to polar levels,"neverenter my study."

"Why? Do you have the corpses of former wives hung there by their hair?"

Shit. That just popped out.

Expressionless, he opens the door. It's an enormous room. Roman bought Rose and me a spectacular apartment next to campus, but it looks like a student hostel compared to this. More dark walls, forest green this time. White crown molding and another tall set of windows. All I can focus on is the huge bed, so tall that I might have to take a running start to get on top of it. There's a tray on the bedside table with some small sandwiches and a huge array of desserts.

"Do you just 'poof' things into existence?" I ask.

"What do you mean?" His attention is back on his phone.

"It's been… what? Four hours since you walked into the county jail and forced me to marry you. So, the dress? Digging up a judge willing to marry us at 2 AM? A photographer and bouquet? Snacks?"

"I believe in expediency," he says. "Goodnight."

As soon as the door closes, I pull a footstool over to help me climb onto the bed and sit there, black mascara tears splashing onto the white silk of my dress. I cry because I miss Rose so much. Because I don't know how my entire life could be plunged into this nightmare. My cut was treated on my cheekbone, but it's still throbbing and my throat's sore, so when I'm out of tears, I curl up on my side and fall asleep.

Chapter Eight

In which no call made at 3 AM is a happy one.

Andrey…

It's 3 AM when I call Roman and Violet.

"Fuck, Andrey!" Roman sounds frantic. "You have Iris, right? All I know is that you bailed her out of jail. By the time I found out where they took her, she'd already been released."

"Yes, I've got her," I say, loosening my tie and stripping off my suit jacket. "She's safe, but she's exhausted."

"She didn't go back to the apartment. Rose would've told us," Violet speaks up. "Where is she?"

I'd called Dmitri, thePakhan,first to prep him before this conversation. He was not happy with me. But he said he understood. I doubt these two will be as understanding as he was.

"I need to tell you that Iris and I were married tonight." No sugarcoating it. I let it settle for a moment before the phone explodes with cursesand threats.

"What the fuck do you mean, you'remarried?"Roman roars. Violet is asking questions in a soft, frantic tone and he takes a deep breath before he continues. There's rage vibrating in every word. "You'd better be joking, Andrey. But you're the most humorless bastard alive, so it seems unlikely. What have you done?"

"Youwerein the meeting where I was told I had to obtain a bride and get married," I say reasonably.