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“Hey, I’m practicing,” I said in my shitty Russian, making him laugh and pour himself a refill. I held up my own drink in a toast. “Here’s to me and your daughter both finding the right person.”
He clinked his glass with mine and drained it, then gave me a shrewd stare. “We might just have more to discuss than just investments, Roman,” he said.
I grinned, my heart beating double time. “Bring it on,” I said. “I’m ready.”
Chapter 2 - Karine
Six weeks later
I sat at my dressing table, staring at my reflection in the lighted mirror. My hair had been twisted and cajoled into a style I could barely comprehend on top of my head while my cousin Elise carefully lowered the frothy net veil from above with a look of concentration as if she was performing life-saving surgery. I shifted my gaze from her hard work to the beaded neckline of my pure white gown. No ivory or eggshell for me. The satin was almost blinding in the bright makeup lights, and I reached for a tissue to dab away some of the blush Elise just finished applying to my cheeks.
“No, don’t,” she said, swatting the tissue out of my hand. “It needs to be heavier than usual to look nice in the pictures.”
“But I look like a clown in real life,” I complained, not really meaning it. I was still a bit stunned, to be fair.
“You look gorgeous,” she said, going back to scowling at the veil. She adjusted it slightly to the left and tutted. “This is all happening way too fast. Couldn’t your father wait another week for the matching veil to arrive from Italy?”
I laughed. Leave it to Elise to be more worried about the veil not being our first choice than my father forcing me to marry a complete stranger. I shrugged. The truth was I didn’t care about which veil I wore, or the fact that the dress really was lovely and cost a fortune. I didn’t care about the flowers either, even though I approved the yellow and peach roses that took up most of the garden and the peonies in my bouquet. I also didn’t care about how many important people were waiting downstairs to watch me marry some upstart from California. Why should I?
My longtime best friend barged into my room before I could assure Elise that the veil she’d managed to perch on my overdone coif was fine. The son of my father’s right-hand man, Demian, had been around as long as I could remember. He was like a brother to me, and when Elise began berating him for not knocking, I just waved her complaints away. Being two years older than us, she tended to be bossy sometimes.
“It’s fine,” I told her, scowling when Demian pushed past her and grabbed my hand.
“It’s not fine,” he said, tightening his grip when I tried to pull my hand away before he tore the delicate lace glove. “Listen, Karine, you don’t have to do this.”
I patted his shoulder and saved my glove from his overzealous grasp. “Of course I do,” I said mildly.
I was nothing if not loyal to my father and the business that would eventually all be mine one day. Ever since I could remember, I’d been told of my duties to the family. When my mother passed away when I was thirteen, I became the woman of the household, learning whatever I was allowed to at that young age. Making my father’s cronies smile when I struggled to be a gracious hostess, making them cheer when I showed off my shooting and fighting skills. I held an important place in the family, and knew my duties backwards and forwards.
I also knew from a young age that I’d have little to no choice in who I married. As long as they were deemed suitable, that had to be good enough for me. It had to be good enough for everyone around me, too. I was sorry if Demian had deluded himself into thinking he ever had a chance to be my husband, but it was high time he let those foolish childhood fantasies go. I was always destined for someone with much more wealth and power than he could ever hope to have. He was a valued member of the organization, but he’d never be that important to my father.
I could tell by the wild look in his eyes that he wasn’t about to let it go. “Say the word, and I’ll set off one of my bombs,” he said, the sadness showing through his brash demeanor. “Just a little one so I can whisk you away.”
I forced a laugh and squeezed his shoulder. “Oh, Demian,” I said, trying not to sound dismissive since his heartache was so clear.
I loved him, but only ever as a friend. His growing crush on me over the last few years had been starting to become an annoyance, and this rushed wedding was partly a relief. Once I was Mrs. Roman Anishin, he’d have to stop mooning over me like a high school boy.
“Why does this outsider get to marry you, Kar?” he whined. “Do you even trust this guy?”
Did I?
It was a bit odd that Papa had picked someone outside our tight little circle. Six weeks ago, Roman had come out of the woodwork with some investment opportunities, and ever since then, Papa had certainly been eating up his attention. Knowing my father had all the background on him covered, I still did a little bit of searching on my own. The company he ran with his twin brother was wildly successful, with a vast range of investments and a lot of pull with different government agencies, which was always helpful. While I could see an eager desire to make money in any way possible in Roman, he also had an outward respectability that my father, who’d been born and raised in the world of crime, craved.
Roman was Russian, which was a non-negotiable, but he was born and raised in the US. He barely spoke ten sentences in Russian and had no Bratva ties. Why would either of them jump at this arranged marriage? I had only just turned twenty-one, so surely there was time?
On Roman’s side, he was probably just trying to expand his realm, just like Papa was always doing. Wasn’t that why we’d originally come to Miami? To expand our territories in this area? As long as Roman’s ambitions didn’t hurt Papa or my family, who cared if it made him richer?
Papa and Roman had been golfing, sailing, and taking meetings every other day for the last six weeks. He loved driven men like Roman, who was also gregarious and a bit of an asskisser, which never hurt. I imagined it was all a ruse, but there was no real dishonesty behind the blatant compliments. It showed he knew people and how to handle them. Would he know how to handle me?
Two weeks ago, Papa had called me into his office and announced I’d be marrying Roman right in front of the man. The smile on his handsome, chiseled face had been a bit embarrassed, which had added something human to his otherworldly good looks. It made me think I could like him and made the shock of the whole arranged marriage thing finally happening a little less severe. If only that smile had reached his dark blue eyes. The way he’d looked at me that day made it seem like he was ready to pounce.
Goosebumps had risen on my arms, bare in a strappy sundress since I’d just come home from some errands. Roman seemed to hone in on them, those intense eyes searching and seeming to be aware of everything about me. It had shaken me in a way I’d never felt before. Much more than I wanted to admit, even to myself.
So, did I trust the man I was about to vow to love, honor, and cherish from this day forward? The bottom line was I trusted my father. He always looked out for my best interests, and there was nothing I wouldn’t do for him. And I would do whatever it took to advance our organization. I was every bit the soldier that Demian was. My weapons were just different. When Demian was ordered to blow something up, he did it without question.
When I was ordered to marry a complete stranger, I called up Elise and got some semblance of a wedding together in less than fourteen days.
“Of course I trust him,” I said. I didn’t like the bitterness and anger in my oldest friend’s eyes, but he’d have to get over it.
