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I’m struggling to control the negative emotions swirling inside me. This is unfair, when sex has always been a keystone of our relationship. When I’ve always seen much more than her looks.
Fighting to keep my voice calm, I say, “I wouldn’t desire you if I didn’t respect you. From the day we met, I’ve only had eyes for you, because I respect you themost.”
Sabrina blinks hard, several emotions battling on her face.
At last she says, “I hope that’s true.”
She returns to the wardrobe to pick another dress.
I wait downstairs for her this time. She emerges twenty minutes later in a long black gown with gold chains at the bust and shoulders. To me, she looks just as stunning as before. But her expression is subdued, and she hardly meets my eye.
She rebounds a little at the wedding.
Neve Markov and Simon Severov are married at the Bykovo Estate. I assume they picked this location, instead of a more conventional luxury locale like the Four Seasons, because its remoteness allows the Markovs to arrange intensive security for their infamous guests.
The estate was long abandoned. Despite its recent renovation, there’s still an air of neglect in the overgrown forests of the grounds and park. The dark trees with their blanket of snow give a fairytale feeling, lovely and menacing all at once.
The ceremony takes place in a white stone church, with tall black spires and ornate bell towers.
Neve is a Tsarina in her fur cloak and gown, her twenty-foot train carried by several giggling flower girls.
Simon can only keep his haughty expression in place until he sees his bride proceeding up the aisle. Then he breaks into a smile that gives me an unexpected jolt of jealousy.
I look at Sabrina, upright and somber in the chair next to mine. I see the bare hand laying in her lap and I wonder what would happen if I offered her a ring. Would she accept it? Or would she see it as a manacle on her finger? One more way that I want to control and dominate her …
She’s not entirely wrong. The more attached I become to her, the less I want her in danger. Her encounter with Zigor’s bodyguards makes me sick when I think of it. Had they been more on their guard, she could have caught a bullet just as easily as Jasper.
Love and business were never meant to mix.
I look at my parents, seated across the aisle from us.
My father protects my mother. He would never let her take the risks Sabrina takes.
Then there’s Ivan and Sloane—partners in even their darkest and bloodiest endeavors.
I thought I wanted a relationship like theirs. But when it comes down to it, I don’t know how they do it. Ivan is the boss ultimately, isn’t he? When the Malina attacked their house, he threw Sloane to safety while he stayed behind.
Do they argue like Sabrina and me? Have they ever?
How can I get what I want, when it changes every day?
Sometimes I want Sabrina with me every moment. Other times I want to lock her away in a tower, where only I can visit her. Where she’ll always be safe.
She would hate that worse than anything.
All I know is that I want her, more than anything else in the world.
I picture her walking down the aisle toward me, more beautiful than Neve Markov or any other bride …
I want her bound to me forever.
I seize Sabrina’s hand, the left one, and squeeze it tight, murmuring in her ear, “That should be us at the altar.”
She turns to look at me, her eyes strangely clouded.
“I only just turned twenty. I’m not planning to get married any time soon—if at all.”
It feels like she took out her favorite knife and stabbed it in my side.
