Page 89 of Queen’s Gambit

“Terrible, isn’t it? Almost like God doesn’t want to see this union happen,” I said and managed to keep the smirk off my face as he turned a violent shade of red. “Tell me, Christov, why do you care?”

“What? What kind of stupid question is that?”

I turned to face him as I wiped some of the paint off onto my coveralls.

“I want to marry you so we can start our life together,” he said, and it took everything I had not to laugh at the absurdity.

“Don’t take me for a fool, Christov. You only want this marriage because of the money, clout, and contracts you’ll gain.”

“That’s not true.”

“Isn’t it? I’m sure your girlfriend Alina would say otherwise.”

“So, you know about Alina, what does that matter? I’m allowed to have sex with whoever I want until we are wed.”

“I honestly don’t care who you have sex with before or after our marriage. We both know it’s a farce for appearances only. What I can’t figure out is why you didn’t marry her if she’s who you really want?”

He didn’t say anything.

“So, I did my homework Christov. I know who she is, where she came from, and how you two met. What I want to know is…why me? Why did you choose to use me as your cover?”

Everyone had a story, and I didn’t care that Alina was a prostitute he met at a brothel. What concerned me was that I was being dragged into the mess, especially after overhearing their plans to kill me. I kept that knowledge to myself. He would just speed up the timeline.

“If you plan to use this information against me, just know that it won’t work.”

I laughed and set my palette down before fixing my hair.

“No, Christov. I’m not like you. Call me genuinely curious.”

He crossed his arms.

“Money and to get back at Edmundo. I hate him, and hurting you hurts him,” he said.

“That’s the most honest you’ve ever been with me. But if you’re trying to hurt Edmundo, you’re too late. That ship has sailed.”

“What are you talking about?”

“He got married today.”

Christov tried hard to keep the shock off his face but failed. Picking up my paints again, I turned my attention back to the art.

“No matter. I still plan on marrying you,” he stated, and I shrugged.

“We’ll see.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“It means exactly what I said. We will see.”

The tip of the brush moved swiftly over the area where I added caked-on ash, crumbling away.

“You will marry me, Yulianna.”

“I may, but I’ll keep pushing out the date as long as I can, and then once we are married I’m going to make your life a living hell.”

He stepped closer, and I turned around to face the threat. His eyes were filled with rage, but I refused to back down.

“If you want to hurt me, you’ll have to do better than wave a whore under my nose. You’re nothing but a parasite feasting off the success of another man and using a woman to get what you want and couldn’t do yourself. That makes you pitiful.”