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Mikhail throttled the guy, growling through gritted teeth. But to his great pride, Annika only giggled at the insult.
“Good thing I don’t need his approval anymore,” she said. “And don’t worry, pretty soon you won’t need it either.”
“What could you possibly mean by that?” the man spluttered.
“Let’s just say we’re looking for a wedding planner,” Annika said.
“We have some last-minute changes to implement,” Mikhail agreed grimly. “Egor Baranov wants to surprise us on our big day. It’s only fair we put in the same effort for him. After all, we would do anything for family, right?”
CHAPTER18
ANNIKA
The dayof Annika and Mikhail’s wedding was hot. Even for Las Vegas, the last Sunday in July was an exceptional scorcher. It was a beautiful day, with the kind of clear blue skies that were fit for a postcard. The sun blazed down over the desert city, making everything just a little bit hazy. Mirages swam in the eyes of every guest who arrived in Summerlin for the wedding. The Sokolov Estate, which was always beautiful, had undergone a transformation. The grounds were outfitted with velvet ropes and a full security team dressed in matching black suits, like a fancy uniform. The guest list for such an important event was miles long. Everyone who was anyone in the Sokolov crime family got an invitation, and even the lower-ranked members and associates were flooding onto the property to see their new Pakhan and his gorgeous young wife. They were all excited to witness the dawning of a new age, and some were even more excited about the potential for drama. After all, the union of the Sokolovs and the Baranovs was a momentous occasion, and one that most people never saw coming. The Baranovs showed up to support Annika and gawk at the Sokolovs, and vice versa.
As the grounds filled with more and more well-wishers, Annika sat at the bay window in the upstairs sitting room, watching it all unfold. Her heart pounded, seeing how many people were turning up for the event. Annika knew she was about to be the center of attention, and it was intimidating to have all those eyes locked on her. She fought the urge to nervously bite her nails, since she was fresh off a new manicure for the wedding. She couldn’t anxiously twirl her hair around her finger because it was currently being manipulated and twisted into an elaborate half-up, half-down style. She was grateful, at least, that the hairdresser was a familiar face.
“Not pulling too hard, am I?” Mama Katja asked gently over her shoulder.
Annika gave her a smile. “No, you’re doing great. I’m not tender-headed.”
“Good. But you let me know if it hurts, okay? The last thing you need on your wedding day is a painful scalp,” she assured her.
Quite the contrary, Annika was enjoying getting her hair done. It felt nice to have someone fuss over her like this. It had been many, many years since her own mother deigned to do her daughter’s hair or anything similar. And she was always so rough, yanking at her hair and complaining the whole time. Mama Katja was soothing and kind, humming to herself under her breath, feeding Annika bits of hors d’oeuvres from downstairs, and giving her little compliments to boost her confidence. She needed it. She hadn’t looked in a mirror all day, nor had she gotten to spend any time with her future husband. They had even spent the previous night apart, Mikhail sleeping at the apartment while Annika stayed on the Estate. She was getting a little antsy, as she often did when she had to be away from him. She needed Mikhail to help ground her.
Plus, there was a lot going on. So many variables to juggle, and that was just for the wedding itself. Annika’s heart skipped at the thought of what they had planned today. The Sokolovs and Baranovs alike would be surprised by the way things unfolded, and she was nervous about all the things that could go wrong.
She tried to keep her mind occupied for the time being, hitching a vague smile to her face as she interacted with her battalion of bridesmaids. There were the girls from her ballet classes, along with several women from Katja’s Cathouse, and the wives of some high-ranking men in the Sokolov crime family. They were all beautiful, all dressed identically in flowy red dresses. They had little rosettes in their hair, their hands and necks adorned with fancy jewelry.
The women sat around the makeshift bridal suite, chatting and primping. Many of them peered at her with wonder or jealousy. Annika had not spent time with other young women in a long time, not since the final day of ballet classes at Baranov Manor. It was a little awkward to be around them now with everything that had changed in the meantime.
Annika was grateful for Katja’s calming presence. She put all the girls at ease with her affable personality, even the anxious bride.
“Okay! Voila! Your hair is all done,” Katja announced, spinning the chair so that she could face the full-length mirror against the wall.
Annika’s nervous expression shifted into a big smile at her reflection. Her black hair had been brushed straight and glossy, half of it braided and twisted into an updo, crowned with tiny, real roses and white daisies. The rest of her hair was gently curled and loose around her shoulders, with tiny perfect sprigs framing her face.
“Wow. You did an amazing job,” she murmured, barely daring to touch her hair.
“You look absolutely gorgeous,” Katja said, grinning. “Now, we’ve just got to get your face on. Let me go grab my makeup bag, I’ll be right back.”
She hurried away, and as soon as she was gone, the bridesmaids saw an opportunity to sneak over to her. They fell in around Annika, alloohing andahhing at her hair.
“So pretty!”
“You look like a princess!”
“Mama Katja killed it!”
“Thanks, ladies,” Annika said. “It’s nice to have you all here.”
“Are you excited?” asked Mariya.
“Yeah, how are you feeling?” piped up Tasha.
Annika couldn’t lie fast enough; the girls noticed the flash of concern on her face. They immediately fixated on her expression, sensing a weak point.
“Oh, she’s nervous.”
