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It turned out, lucky me, that there was a boutique in this luxurious building, and he sent Genno down to buy me some new clothes and shoes after I reluctantly told him my sizes. My father shoved me into a bedroom, ordering me to take a shower and fix my hair. He gave me a disgusted look as he slammed the door, and I wilted when I heard it lock from the other side. The backpack I had with me when Genno jumped me was lying on the bed, but my laptop and phone were gone. No chance of outside help, even if I had anyone who would help me.
I moved as if I really was trapped in a nightmare I couldn’t wake up from, and by the time I was clean and had blow dried my hair, Genno tossed a few bags into the room and relocked me in.
The big jerk had pretty good taste, or a lot of help from the salesperson, because the emerald green wrap dress was beautiful, skimming my knees and hugging every curve and bringing out the color of my eyes. The strappy leather high heels were a bit snug, but what was one more discomfort? I wore no makeup because I never did and Genno hadn’t bought me any. If my new husband-to-be didn’t like my face the way it was naturally, I supposed he could just suck it up and deal with it. My long blonde hair cascaded over my shoulders, and I begrudgingly had to admit I looked good. Even though I didn’t want to, I had to play nice. And if the new crime lord liked me well enough, perhaps I could twist that to my advantage.
I followed them like a lamb to the slaughter, not taking any more shots at escaping as we walked through the big, airy lobby to a waiting car. My life wasn’t the only one at stake here anymore. Genno sat in the back with me while my father drove, cutting cold glances at me in the rearview mirror as if warning me to remember my place. We pulled into the nearly empty parking lot of a bar that would probably be packed once darkness descended.
“Our new in-laws own this place,” my father said before they let me out. “Act accordingly.”
His way of letting me know there was no one inside who’d help me. I nodded, my anger rising past my fear as Genno shoved me toward the door. Inside it was dark enough to take a few moments for my eyes to adjust, and I let my goon cousin guide me forward to a booth where two big men already sat, with two others stationed nearby in guard stances.
I had to blink when I was close enough to the table to really see who sat there. One of the men I didn’t recognize, but the other one I did. His was a face I’d never forget, the man responsible for the memories that tied me to Miami. He looked up, and the recognition in his eyes greeted mine with a look of pure shock.
Yuri Morozov.
The man who made me the happiest I’d ever been, and the most miserable. The man I used to love but learned to despise with all my heart. The man I was now destined to marry.
I started laughing and couldn’t stop.
Chapter 3 - Yuri
I recognized her instantly. Same beautiful cascade of golden curls, same delicate features and bright green eyes. And God, her body, as enticing as I remembered. Jesus, could it really be Kira, the woman I thought was lost to me forever? The one that got away?
What kind of sick joke was being played on me right now? Kira seemed to find it just as ridiculous, doubling over in nearly hysterical laughter. Her father, tall, with a gut and a horrified look on his stern face, ran his hand through his close cropped gray hair and nudged her. The rangy young man who had a grip on her arm dropped it and stepped back, clearly not sure what to do about her outburst.
Her laughter now was crazed but it still brought back memories of more natural laughter that we shared. Happier times, really amazing times. I blinked and rubbed my eyes, looking to Ivan for confirmation that this was really the woman I was supposed to marry. He only looked dismayed, as if we were getting a bad bargain with unstable goods. I got the overwhelming urge to defend her, but I kept quiet. My ability to speak was stolen by the sight of her and the onslaught of memories. The disbelief that she was being offered to me on a platter. And the sadness when I realized how little she wanted to be there. Wasn’t it only a few minutes ago that I felt like I was taking my final walk to the executioner? My frustration turned to confusion as Kira finally got her laughter under control.
Ivan suggested we split up. Kira and I moved to one booth while he and her father stayed at another to go over the final negotiations. The other man with them moved to the door, keeping a wary eye on Kira, as if she might make a break for it. Ivan’s men stood in front of the hall leading out back, keeping a watchful eye on Artur Orlov.
I covered my face with my hand. I knew Kira’s name, but I never put two and two together. But why would I? He was no one to us up until now, our business dealings in Russia waning over the years while Ivan built up our legacy here in Florida.
What did I say to her? There was nothing that wouldn't sound stilted or awkward. When I manage to look at her, she was glaring at me, all her wild humor spent. I couldn’t help but notice a red mark on her neck when she tossed her lustrous hair behind her shoulder. I put my hands in my lap to hide my clenched fists. It was more than clear she didn’t want to be here, but was her father responsible for those marks to get her here? I wanted to reach across the table and stroke my finger over them, soothe the pain away. How did it feel like no time had passed? I was probably in shock. So was she. The best I could do was try to make things seem normal, an impossible feat.
“You look well,” I said. “Amazingly well.”
Her eyes widened in disbelief and she snorted. “Oh, you too, Yuri.”
Her tone dripped with sarcasm, setting me on edge. She never used to be sarcastic, her humor was sweet and pure like she was. But what did I really know about her? She could be as ruthless as her father for all I knew.
“We should probably move on from our past,” I said, about to explain that a fresh start would be best if we wanted to make this bizarre situation work.
She cut me off with another harsh sound. “Whatever you say. You’re the boss, after all.”
“That’s the opposite of moving on.” I didn’t mean to sound bitter, not toward her anyway. Maybe I still felt guilty straying from my original rule of never dating employees. I never wanted to hurt her.
“Oh, believe me, I have,” she said airily.
Out of the blue and completely unwarranted I got a blast of jealousy at whoever helped her move on from our perfect, whirlwind relationship.
“Listen,” I said, leaning close so I could drop my voice. I didn’t want Ivan or her father to overhear. “Whatever happens from now on, I’m not your boss anymore, okay?”
I could smell her clean, soapy scent and closed my eyes, desperately trying not to get distracted. She was still so damn gorgeous, even with her full lips curled into an angry frown aimed at me.
She snickered, shaking her head, her eyes flashing with a desperation that cut through me. I felt it, too, didn’t she understand that? We needed to work together against… whatever this was.
“I’m certainly not the one in charge of anything,” she said. Her eyebrow lifted as she looked me up and down. “Am I? Can I walk out of here? Can I reject your proposal like you rejected—” she cut herself off, cheeks reddening as she stopped glaring directly into my eyes. “Are you even going to propose, Yuri?”
I used to love it when she said my name. It actually used to give me a thrill that stiffened my cock, but now each time she said it, all I heard was the disdain in her voice. But damn it if she still didn’t make me stiff, even with all that rage emanating off her. Holy shit, she was really going to be mine.
