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“Holy shit, that was fast. It’s only been a few days since we did the shoot.”
“Uh, how about: holy shit, you guys look like you’re about to rip each other's clothes off and go at it in front of the crew.”
“What?” I grab the phone from her to take a closer look.
I'm seated on Maxim's lap, my back pressed against his chest. One of his strong arms snakes around my waist, pulling me closer, while the other hand rests possessively on my thigh. My head is tilted to the side, our lips inches apart. Maxim stares at me like he wants to throw me down and fuck me into the floor, and I look like I wouldn’t mind it one bit.
A nervous laugh bubbles up my throat. “It’s not how it looks.”
“I’m sure. I know how it is with the photographer posing you and all. Obviously, you don’t want Maxim. He’s the enemy.”
"Exactly!" I bite my lip.
These pictures certainly bring the heat. Truth be told, my big plan to tease Maxim also affected me. My panties were soaked by the end of the photo shoot. If some higher power exists, my first question when I get to the pearly gates will be why they had to give the devil incarnate a panty-melting smile and a voice that drips like honey.
Ugh. He really is the worst.
Liza takes her phone from my hands and scrolls through the image gallery. “This photographer sure is talented. I can see why they rushed to publish these. Well … that, and everyone wants to know more about the elusive Maxim Belov and the young beauty who captured his heart.” She winks at me.
“Puke,” I say, with an eye roll. “The real version would be much more shocking. ‘Young bratva princess marries her aunt’s suspected killer’. Or ‘Evil oligarch marries his daughter’s best friend to improve his public image’.”
Liza dissolves into a fit of laughter. “Truth isalwaysstranger than fiction. Anyhow…” She wipes her tears. “Do you know what you’re going to wear tonight?”
I shrug. “One of the dresses we bought together at the boutique.”
Usually I’d feel more excited about the possibility of dressing up, but today my heart is feeling a little heavy. Back at home, Aly would be my unofficial stylist, choosing my outfit and suggesting accessories. It’s not like I had time for that shit. I was running a bratva with my brothers. Here, I do nothing but swan around the mansion all day and meet with Liza.
I try to remind myself that this is the only way, a means to an end. Once I’ve avenged my aunt’s murder, I can go back home. I can be close to Aly and join my brothers again. I miss strategizing with them in our office above a garment factory in Brooklyn. I miss being asked my opinion on important matters.I miss our big family dinners, buzzing with conversation and banter, the table crowded with everyone and their spouses.
Homesickness washes over me, tugging at the corners of my heart.
I lean my elbows onto the table, resting my hand on my jaw. “I’m sure Nadya will have something to say about whatever I wear.”
Before the interview and photoshoot withSociety Magazine, she gave me a full morning of instruction on how to be a proper lady as if I didn’t go to the finest boarding schools in Europe.
“Khuy.” Beside me, Liza hisses, calling someone a dick between clenched teeth.
I raise my head, expecting to find Roman back too soon. Instead I find her fiancé, Anatoly, strolling into the living area, head held high as if he owns the property, which given the debts Liza's family owes him, he might. Spotting us, he arrogantly nods his chin and makes his way towards us.
“Fuck me,” Liza grates. “Definitely not an invited guest.”
Yeah, I wouldn’t think so. She is not fond of the man she’s being forced to marry.
As distasteful as I find him, something occurs to me. He could be a source of information. He’s well-connected and, much like the mayor, seems like the type who’d try to have dirt on everyone.
“Kira Antonov. Or should I say, Mrs. Belov?” He smirks at me, but it’s slippery. Like everything else about him. “Congratulations are in order. Although, I admit I’m a bit sore that we didn’t get an invite to the wedding, seeing how we’re old school chums.”
Sure, if that’s how he wants to remember it.
I give him a patient smile. “I had nothing to do with the invite list. I let Maxim’s people take care of all the logistics.”
“It’s about time we had a chance to catch up. Liza's been hiding you away.” He takes a seat at the table, his shirt straining against his generous midsection as he sits.
He hasn’t bothered to greet Liza, who seems to have shrunk into herself at his arrival. Her arms are crossed over her chest while her gaze is fixed on the table, avoiding direct eye contact. I hate seeing my vibrant friend so diminished in his presence.
“Hardly. She hasn’t been hiding me away. I’ve been busy settling in.”
“Oh, I’m sure Belov’s kept you very busy.” He smirks, the insinuation clear. “I saw theSociety Magazinespread, after all. It’s all the city is talking about.”
