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He didn’t tell me not to open the door, but I know in my gut obviously he doesn't want me to do it.
What will he do? Kill me? It’s his sister.
I open the door amidst curse words and warnings from the security team. Yeah, whatever. The second she’s in, I hear one of them call Mikhail on his cell. We don’t have much time here.
She comes in, spins on her heel, and slams the door behind her.
Wow. This woman is stunning. Her long, flowing, platinum-blonde hair hangs down to her waist, and her ice blue eyes are framed with long, thick lashes. She’s graceful yet athletic, standing a few inches taller than me. With fair skin, she almost looks delicate, but there’s something about the way she holds herself that tells me that’s only an illusion. I get the distinct feeling she’s like tightly wrapped dynamite. A gymnast or ballerina or something.
She takes one look at me in my robe. “Hi, I’m Polina, and there will be hell to pay for me coming in here, but honey, we have to get you ready. The wedding’s in an hour."
I grimace but need to ask her. I need confirmation. My voice sounds as if it’s coming from somewhere else for the pounding in my ears.
“Whose…wedding?”
She stares at me, unblinking. "He didn'ttellyou?"
I shake my head. “He told me a lot of things, but I don't remember the word wedding coming into play. I’m guessing it’s…mine? The wedding? The...” I gesture toward the dress. “The dress?”
The impending sense of doom?
She whistles. “Yeah, honey.” She waves her hand at the dress and then gestures to a pile of accessories neatly lined up beside it that I didn’t notice before. Shoes, a small satin bag, a gauzy veil.“My brothers can do a lot of not-so-nice things, but this is pretty low. Wow. Alright then. We still have to get you ready." Rubbing her hands together, she blows out a breath.
I should’ve known this. I should’ve pieced it all together. He’d said I’d be punished, that I belonged to him now. How else would I belong to him?
Marriage to a cold, heartless criminal? I remember how he touched me in the shower, detached and cold, as if I were his…property.
Property.
Polina looks from me to the dress and back again. "At least I have to say I did pick one that's going to look gorgeous on you."
"You bought that?"
“I did good, huh?” she says with a twinkle in her eye. “I’m really good at things likethis.Explaining why my brothers do what they do? That, I’m not so good at.”
“But can you tell me what’s happening? Where am I?” I open my mouth to ask her more but can’t bring myself to do so.What happens after we’re married?
There’s a commotion outside the door. Voices rise and fall.
Uh oh.
Mikhail is back, and he’s furious.
Polina seems to realize this the same time I do.
“Hold your ground,” she hisses, just as the door opens. “He isn’t as scary as you think.”
Oh, really?
“Out, Mikhail!” She shouts. “Do not come in here. It's bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the ceremony."
He storms into the room, ignoring her.
"Who the fuck told you, you had a right to come in here?” His voice is a growl. I notice he’s lost the towel and has changed into a tux.
This is happening. We’re doing this. We’re going to get married.
“I asked you a question,” he growls at his sister.
