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“Oh, really?” Zane actually looked crestfallen, which I found a little odd.
“I have a wedding to go to tonight,” I said, grabbing the rest of my stuff. “I have to get home to get ready.”
“It’s only noon,” he said.
I shrugged. “These things take time.”
“Well,” he said, “I hope I’ll see you around.”
I nodded but didn’t say much. Zane seemed like a nice enough guy. He was the type of guy that I had spent years dreaming would come and sweep me off my feet. I’d always wanted someone to come and rescue me from the Bratva life. That wasn’t going to be the case though, and it was time that I accepted it. Dom was playing nice this week, and I didn’t want to give him a reason to do otherwise.
My parents had put me in a precarious situation, one that could leave me dead, and while I hadn’t decided exactly what I was going to do, I knew that I didn’t need to give Dom any reason to distrust me, and that included allowing a guy like Zane in my orbit.
Sighing, I texted my driver letting him know that I was ready to return home. Tonight would be the first time Dom and I stepped out as husband and wife, and though he hadn’t spoken about it since making me aware of the event, I knew that it was a big deal.
I prayed that I managed to be whatever he needed me to because the alternative potentially meant my death.
* * *
“Don’t look so tense,” Dom whispered in my ear. The feeling of his breath tickling my skin made me tense even more. “People are going to think that I’m dragging you here against your will.”
I tried to smile, but I was sure that it came out stilted. I felt incredibly nervous attending a Blanchi wedding with Dom because I knew that all eyes were going to be on us. I was also incredibly aware that as a Petrov I was the enemy, no matter who I was married to.
“Sasha.”
“I’m trying,” I muttered. “I’m not good at stuff like this.” It was true. My father had been very protective of me. He’d kept me hidden in our home, and unlike other girls in the family, I wasn’t expected to entertain. For years, I hadn’t cared, but now, I cursed myself for not learning how to do these things better.
“You look beautiful,” Dom said.
I felt my cheeks turn red. I didn’t know why I cared so much about Dom’s approval. “Thanks,” I said.
I had gone earlier this week and purchased the dress. My mother had packed a few ballgowns that looked more appropriate for a child than a grown woman. The dress I had picked out was fitted down the waist. It was covered in gold applique and showed just enough skin to be adult but not enough to be risqué.
“Is there anything that I should know?” I asked.
I had thought that Dom would prepare me to meet the rest of the Blanchi crew, but he hadn’t. We had had breakfast together every day this week, and he would drive me to class, but we rarely spoke about anything of merit, and now, I was feeling the discomfort of that.
“Just don’t mention your family,” he said.
I bit my lip to stop a sigh of frustration from escaping. “I’m not an idiot,” I muttered.
Dom’s grip on my arm tightened, and I knew that he was angry that I had dared to talk back to him. I didn’t care much though.
“I’m just trying to figure out what my role is here,” I told him, as he walked me through the doors of the Plaza and towards the room where the ceremony was being held. I could feel multiple pairs of eyes on us, and I wondered if they were Blanchi men, or if they were just random people admiring Dom’s physique.
I couldn’t ignore how good looking he was in his all black suit. He looked as dangerous as he was, and something about that made me remember the many orgasms he had given me.
“Your role is to be my wife,” he said. “Outside of that you don’t need to do anything else.”
“So be seen and not heard,” I said. “Got it.” There was anger in my voice. I had spent most of my childhood being told the same thing. A perfect wife was beautiful, gracious, and above all else, quiet. I don’t know why I had expected much more from Dom. Maybe it was because he had helped me take hold of my admission to Columbia, but it seemed that I could have been wrong.
“Sasha…” Dom released a groan of frustration, but before he could scold me an older man came forward stopping us from getting a seat for the ceremony.
“Dominic!” the man said, exuberantly. “So nice of you to join us.”
Dom’s grip on me tightened. “Lorenzo,” he said. His tone was cordial, but his body was stiff.
The man’s dark eyes shifted towards me. I did my best to look polite as he looked me up and down, no doubt doing an assessment of the Petrov Dom had been anchored to. “You must be Sasha,” he said.
