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Ishift uncomfortably in my dress. As pretty as it is, it’s far too form fitting. It makes my little baby bump all the more apparent. I’m not self-conscious or anything. The dress makes me feel like Audrey Hepburn in the opening ofBreakfast at Tiffany’s, it’s just not something I’d ever choose for myself. The fact that I have to get all dolled up for a megalomaniac makes the experience that much more unenjoyable.
Charlotte has been invited as well. Most likely so I’ll have company, but something tells me it’s more than that. I wonder if it’s because Konstantin doesn’t want to leave her alone at the compound. When I look around, I can’t help but notice all the guards.Everyoneis here. Security is tight. We’ve been given the shortest of leashes, but I have no clue why. The heavy tension in the air leaves my guts tied up in knots.
When we arrive at a fancy banquet venue downtown, I suddenly realize why.
It’s a party, the most extravagant I’ve ever seen. Catherina wasn’t lying when she said half of Moscow was invited. I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many people. Compared to the wild performance art party I was roped into serving at a few months ago, this is on a whole other level of extreme.
The wealthiest of the wealthy, the most powerful of the powerful—all here under one roof. Their clothes tell me everything I need to know. High-end tuxedos, lavish and sparkling gowns. The men wear fat gold rings on their fingers, their women dripping in diamonds and pearls. I don’t need to know their names, their histories… It’s written all over their faces, can be seen in the way they walk.
This room is filled with Russia’s elite. Oligarchs, businessmen, the entirety of the Antonov Bratva.
And they’re all staring at me.
Maybe it’s because I’m a new face, or perhaps it’s my vibrant red hair. Even without the skintight dress, my natural features make me stand out like a burning flame against everyone else’s paler complexions and dark hair.
“Stay close,” Catherina warns, walking ahead. “Try your best to avoid the older men here.”
Charlotte frowns, clinging to my arm like a lifeline. She’s been forced into a pretty dress, too, though nowhere near as flashy. “Why?” my best friend bites out.
“They can be a bit…grabby.”
I chew on the inside of my cheek, holding on tightly to Charlotte’s hand. “Old-school, power-hungry despots? Who would have guessed?”
It’s almost fitting when I spot Konstantin. He stands at the front of the big ballroom, dressed in a white tuxedo complete with black bowtie. He’s surrounded by a small crowd of equally wealthy party guests, all of them hanging off his every word. Konstantin stands with his chest puffed, his head held up proud. If I didn’t know any better, I would have mistaken him for a regal tsar against the backdrop of polished tile floors, golden arched windows, and the large crystal chandeliers hanging overhead.
He notices us approaching, smiling wide with a jovial laugh. “Ah! Welcome, welcome. I’m so glad you could make it.” Konstantin takes Catherina’s hand and kisses the back of her knuckles like he’s some noble knight. He certainly has the other party guests fooled, but I know better. He approaches me next and tries for my hand.
I pull away. “Don’t.”
Konstantin wears an easy grin. “Now, now, Aurora. I thought you were learning to behave yourself.”
“You’ve got another think coming if you think you can tame me.”
“Spoken like a true Bratva princess.”
I clench my teeth. “Don’t call me that.”
“Fine. But there’s no denying the child you’re carrying will be the next in a long line of Antonov royalty.”
My hand flies down to cover my belly instinctively. Everything about him—his lingering gaze to his honeyed words—makes me feel dirty. “What are you doing?” I ask. “Bringing us here. Isn’t it safer for you to lock us away?”
Konstantin’s grin shrinks ever so slightly. He offers me his hand. “Come. Let’s dance.”
“Fat chance that’s going to happen.”
“I’m not asking, Aurora.” I can hear the edge of a threat in his tone. Konstantin grips my hand tight and leans in close to growl in my ear. “I suggest you behave yourself. I’ve given you these privileges, but I can also just as easily lock you in a dark basement for the rest of your days. Do you understand?”
I try to swallow, but my tongue feels swollen and my throat is too tight. It’s terrifying how his mood can turn on a dime. I nod once, my stomach churning, as I allow him to guide me out to the center of the ballroom. The string quartet set up in the corner plays an easy waltz, the sweeping music filling the air. I’m more than a little aware of all the eyes on us.
Konstantin leads, moving in time with the music. He has an arm caged around my waist, his grip on my hand so tight it’s painful. Through it all, he smiles with a gentle ease that leaves my skin cold and clammy.
“Seriously,” I grumble under my breath as we move about the dance floor. “What’s the point in bringing me out here?”
“I’m showing you off.”
“What? Why?”
“Because I need everyone to know.”
