Page 2 of The Promise

Maybe he genuinely didn’t know how things operated in Chicago, but Karine’s entire life had been an unfortunate lesson in the topic. Her father might be distracted with the plot to assassinate him, but it was only momentarily. She was supposed to marry Dima in two days—agreements like those weren’t broken without someone answering for it, too.

Last night, the risk had seemed worth the choice, but as the sky cleared with the light of the morning breaking through the dark clouds, she sat in the passenger seat unsure of herself.

Of her decisions.

Of his.

She had grown up around those men—she doubted the ones he came from were the same. Even though there were times of her life that she couldn’t remember, she didn’t wonder at all about this. Those men weren’t going to let her simply escape into the sunset. A deal had been made, and there were men who would make sure she kept her end of the bargain, one way or another.

Karine hadn’t gotten away with anything in her life—she certainly didn’t think the universe was going to start now.

Despite a sheltered life, she had in fact lived long enough to see a woman face the consequences of not seeing an arrangement through. Her wedding to Dima might not happen when it had been originally planned, but that didn’t mean it was anywhere near void.

Roman hadn’t even mentioned the wedding.

How could she trust this man?

What did he have to gain by saving her—or was it keeping her? Was it possible that he would do all of this just because they slept together once?

Same body, different girl, came a cackling glee from somewhere in the recesses of Karine’s mind. She blinked away the taunt, but it lingered all the same.

She forced herself to talk so that voice wouldn’t. “I’m supposed to get married tomorrow. Do you realize that?”

Roman said nothing, but his narrowing eyes while he continued to stare straight ahead said he was listening. That didn’t mean he liked what he heard.

“I don’t think you truly understand what that means. They’re going to come looking for me,” Karine said, the steady stream of her thoughts tumbling out in fast sentences she couldn’t control. “It’s not like they’ll sit back and file a missing persons report with the cops or something.”

A dark cast washed over Roman’s face while he acted as though the feverishness of her rambling wasn’t concerning. He was so good at doing that, she’d noticed.

Already.

It only urged her to continue.

“Dima expects his bride to show up, to get what he wants, and if he doesn’t—”

“The wedding isn’t going to happen,” Roman interjected, the calm in his tone belying the coldness that settled in his gaze. “Not too many people know about it, anyway. I don’t think most of the Yazov bratva even knows, only those involved directly within the city limits. They had only just started delivering the invitations. By hand, mind you. There’s time for them to make a decision that doesn’t include returning you.”

But not likely.

Karine wasn’t dumb.

A mess, yes.

Dazed, at times.

Not stupid, though.

“Everything was set up,” she whispered, picking at her fingernails to soften the sound of her own voice saying things she hated. “We were going to exchange vows in the rose garden. The wedding dress was picked out for me, I didn’t even have to think about it. Masha was going to do my makeup.”

Karine spoke mechanically, aware of how she sounded but unable to stop repeating everything that she had been told by others. Her father. Dima. Even by Masha. Over and over again.

She had spent a lot of time preparing herself for her marriage to Dima. There was no real choice presented to her, she couldn’t stop the wedding—it was out of her hands.

Karine had already been sworn to Dima, and there was no escape from that. No matter how far she ran.

“I’m going to say it again,” Roman said, turning to meet her gaze with a clenched jaw and expressionless. “Know it will be the last time I say it, Karine. There will be no wedding tomorrow. You’re not marrying that motherfucker. Not ever.”

She swore every muscle in his body tightened and coiled in the seat next to hers—like a snake ready to spring. If the conviction he spoke with couldn’t convince her, his anger that flared at the suggestion certainly might.