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“Do you want me to propose?” I asked. How would I do it? How would I have done it back then, if I hadn’t thrown our relationship away?
And she was laughing again. I rode out the new storm of hysteria with my face in my hands, unable to see her so unhappy. This was not my fault. Why did I feel so guilty?
Her father got up from his booth and loomed over her, telling her harshly to get herself under control. I wanted to take him by the throat and send him over the bar but Ivan caught my eye and shook his head. I clenched my fists under the table and prayed that Artur wouldn’t put a hand on her, but also that he would, so I’d have a reason.
“We’re going to celebrate the happy day in one week,” he told her. “A big grand wedding just like every little girl dreams of. Lots of pictures, all over social media.” Her face drained of color as he turned to address me next. “It seems you’ve got a nice reputation to uphold in this city. I can’t wait for introductions to all these important people you know.” His rubbery, bloated face distorted into his rendition of a smile. “You won’t want to risk ruining that reputation by wriggling out of our agreement, eh?”
“You don’t need to worry about that,” Ivan said before I could say something to screw up their negotiations. I didn’t even care what they worked out between themselves. He tried to lighten up the suddenly heavy aura surrounding Artur by joking about his and our other brothers’ wives working overtime to plan the big day.
“I’m sure it will be perfect, right, Kira?” Artur reached over and grabbed her wrist, pulling her roughly to her feet.
A surge of protectiveness made me shoot to mine, and I moved to get between them, but Ivan was quicker, smoothly sliding in front of me to keep me from bashing my soon to be father-in-law’s face.
“She’ll be yours in a week,” he muttered as they headed toward the door. “Just stay calm.”
“She had a mark on her neck,” I said as the door to the bar swung open and they left. It took all my strength not to run after them and force Artur to let her stay with me.
“She’ll be fine,” Ivan said, putting a hand on my arm as if sensing my urges.
“And if she’s not?”
He sighed. “Then take care of him after the wedding. She’s not yours yet, Yuri. Calm the fuck down.”
I nodded tersely but wrenched my arm away from him and left the bar to stew on my own at home. In that moment, I hated him as much as I hated anything, but mostly the memory of the look Kira gave me as her father dragged her away. Now that was real hatred, and it twisted my guts.
Chapter 4 - Kira
Every day marched by in a fog, dragging me closer to the wedding date. A woman came each morning to sew me into a truly gorgeous, frothy white gown, all pearls and beads and handmade lace, but I simply couldn’t get excited. My brain accepted that it was a dream dress anyone would be proud to wear, but my heart kept rebelling. My uniform or shorts and a tank top would have been the same for all I cared.
On the third day, another woman came with the seamstress, introducing herself as Theresa, one of Yuri’s brother’s wives. She tried to befriend me with forced cheer but all I could picture was her pulling the short straw in coming to meet me. Why would she want to be here otherwise? I imagined Yuri’s brothers and their wives were all madly in love, none of them forced to be together. I barely glanced at her as the seamstress made alterations and ignored all her questions.
“Tell me what kind of food you like,” she asked, waving a few different menus in front of my face while I stood on a stool with the long train spread out behind me.
I caught a glimpse of shrimp and a few other seafood dishes, and my mouth watered. All my father had been giving me here in this lux prison apartment was cereal for breakfast, cold turkey sandwiches for lunch and bland salads with no dressing for dinner. He couldn’t give me the beating he thought I deserved for acting such a fool in the bar during his negotiations, since the marks wouldn’t fade before my wedding night, so he had to find other ways to make me suffer. Starvation was as good a way to make me pay for my sins as anything else.
He poked at my sides and told me I had gotten fat over the last two years, an untruth, but he thought it would hurt me. He removed the door to the bedroom so I had no privacy, and a few more of his henchmen joined him over here, taking turns guarding me, always leering with their cold, dead eyes. I didn’t recognize any of them from my past in Russia, not that they would have shown me any loyalty anyway. Not when my own cousin wouldn’t. As much as they despised my father, they feared him far more.
I was surprised at how much more dictatorial he’d become from what I remembered. He was always a monster, but his cruelty was beyond description now. When he wanted to take his rage out on me but knew I couldn’t show up to my honeymoon covered in bruises, he took it out on his men. Even Genno wasn’t immune to his casual slaps and punches. To be honest, seeing Genno get smacked was the one sorry high point of my existence over the last few days.
“Really no preference on the food?” Theresa asked, putting aside the menus to show me some color swatches, an entire rainbow of fabric samples. “What about the bridesmaid dresses?” She paused, looking sheepish. “It’ll be me, Reina, and Mila, who you’ll meet on the day. Um, since Yuri’s brothers will be standing up for him. It has to seem…”
“Real,” I answered for her, staring at the top of the seamstress’s head while she sewed beads on the hem of the train.
“And are there any special flowers you like? You’re not allergic to any, are you?”
She was trying so hard, it was beginning to tug at my heartstrings, but I hardened them right up and went on ignoring her fruitless attempts to make me give a crap about a forced wedding to a man I couldn’t stand. A man who humiliated me and broke my heart and now blithely wanted to move on. And where was he anyway? He hadn’t shown up at all. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that, if I wanted to see him or not. Just the fact I was confused pissed me off, along with the fact I had to relive all the pain he put me through two years ago. It was a lot less painful to be mad than heartbroken, so I stayed mad.
Theresa finally put everything down on the counter and sighed deeply. “You might actually look back fondly on your wedding one day. Don’t you want to have any say in it at all?”
Unwanted, hated tears sprung to my eyes. Of course I did, but a wedding I wanted, with a man who wanted me, not both of us being forced into it with one week to plan, all so my father could gain power. The only reason I’d be walking down any aisle was because my friend was stuck in a dank torture basement until the stupid ceremony was over, and who knew why Yuri had agreed to it.
And on top of everything, I felt stupid for never snapping at who he was back then. Was I in denial, or just that in love that I never put his name together with a crime family that I really should have been aware of, especially since I was on the run from my own. But I was struggling with understanding everyone’s American accents, trying to excel in a new job, falling in love, experiencing the heady joy of freedom for the first time in my life. So, yeah, I didn’t do my homework. But that didn’t excuse the fact Yuri never filled me in, either, another source of conflict to my already conflicted heart. Had everything been based on lies back then? For all I knew, he was just as ruthless as my father, an idea that made me shudder, considering I’d be married to him in four days.
She repeated her question, all but begging me to pick one color, one food item, one flower so she could make some nice memories for me. And I turned to her and snapped.
“I wish you could understand how little I care about any of this. I do not give a single, flying fuck, Theresa.”
The spark of hurt in her eyes was quickly covered by anger and if I hadn’t been propped up by a boned corset and twenty pounds of silk and beaded lace, I would have melted into the floor from shame. She nodded and left the apartment, quietly shutting the door behind her when I surely deserved a slam. The seamstress looked up at me and shook her head, not saying anything though her opinion on my attitude was clear.
