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I place the ribbon down on the table and open the box, gasping when I see the ring inside. The diamond in the center is cut like a teardrop, glittering in the deep yellow candlelight with such intensity that I feel like I’d draw too much attention to myself wearing it.
“Put it on,” Danya urges.
I pluck the ring from its padding and begin sliding it down my finger, but he stops me before I can get it on. “The other hand.”
I frown, looking down at my hand to make sure I’m not losing my mind. That’s the left one. I know my left from my right.
I look up at Danya. “This is correct.”
“In America, perhaps, but in Russia we wear our rings on the right side.”
“Really? That’s… interesting. I’ve never heard of that.”
“Actually, in many countries in Europe, it’s that way. I suppose in the media they’re always going to default to the Hollywood viewpoint, but we do things our own way here.”
I nod, switching finger and slipping the ring onto my right hand. It looks nice there, I have to admit. I’ll probably get to see it more often since that’s the hand I use for everything. Even now, I can barely take my eyes off it.
“A beautiful ring for a beautiful woman,” Danya purrs.
He puts his hand on my shoulder and squeezes it, sending a jolt of excitement through me. I wish more than anything to close my eyes and let him have his way with me. I want his powerful hands all over me, exploring me, teasing me, and claiming my body.
But as soon as I imagine it, he drifts away to his seat. He takes a cigar from his coat and toasts the end of it over one of the dying candles. Soon, he’s puffing smoke into the room and humming something to himself under his breath.
When I leave the dining room and settle into my bed to sleep, the weight of the new ring on my finger feels so foreign that I have to take it off and put it on the nightstand until morning. I feel a bit guilty for doing it, but I have enough on my mind already. I wouldn’t be able to fall asleep if I was constantly thinking about it.
As I close my eyes, all I can see is Danya, and I wonder what it will be like to fall asleep with him by my side.
11
Danya
Twelve armed guards stand outside, and several more stand in the church pews with their guns hidden in elegant navy suits as the priest and his helpers prepare the stage for the most important day of my life.
I can hardly believe I’ve gotten this lucky, but then again, I’ve been searching for a woman like Taylor for a long time. Only after hundreds of flights, meetings, and payments, do I finally get to commence with the first chapter of my plan.
But despite the importance of this ceremony, the only idea that my mind is willing to entertain as I adjust my tie and part my hair in the mirror is sex. That’s where my mind goes to escape from the pressure of life in the Bratva, and I’m going to be getting a lot of it from Taylor once we’ve tied the knot.
I can already imagine her having my children, giving birth to more than she can ever hope to handle on her own. She will need help, but I will hire as many hands as she needs to manage our offspring. So long as they are blessed to be born with her pure energy, I will want as many as she is willing to give me.
I haven’t told her this for fear of her being overwhelmed by my plans for the future, but our bodies will communicate without words tonight, and she will know when our spirits are intertwined that she will birth my heirs.
All the money in the world pales in comparison to the idea that I will soon have my DNA running around in my Antarctic settlement, their little feet reminding us what’s really important in life.
I smile as I dip my comb in water and pull the rest of my hair to the side. My father would be proud.
I check myself in the mirror one last time before I leave the private quarters in the back of the church, returning to the main venue where people have arrived. Normally, the bride would be escorted in by her father, but I have received word that he will not be attending.
That snake can’t even witness what he’s done, and I will make sure he suffers greatly for his cruelty.
Olena has offered to take his place walking Taylor down the white carpet, and since she’s the closest person to Taylor other than me, I have agreed. I know she wants to see the dress she’s made in action.
The priest looks at me and smiles, the sides of his eyes showing deep wrinkles from age. He’s wed a thousand couples, and I find solace in the fact that he views mine as no different from all the others, despite the circumstances.
“She will be out soon,” he says in Russian, flipping through his bible and running his knobby fingers over the thin pages. “And you will become one in the eyes of God.”
I nod, looking over the guests waiting patiently in the pews. There aren’t many people here who aren’t guards, mostly people who have worked for me at one time or another, and a few friends from outside of the country who showed interest in attending.
A wave of sadness that I haven’t felt in a long time comes over me at the realization that not a single family member is able to attend one of the most important days of my life. I could ignore their absence most days, but today the memories of their deaths are fresh.
