Valeria appears at my elbow, chattering about veils and trains in an unnaturally bright voice. “I think you need something sleeker, more modern. You have the figure for it.” Her laugh sounds brittle. “Mom, help me find something more satin than chiffon.”
“Yes, definitely.” I find the nerve to voice my opinion. “And could we go with white instead of eggshell?”
Attendants rush in to help as Irina selects dress after dress. She’s not just cheerful but frantic. A peacemaker desperately plastering over the cracks in her family, covering wounds with ribbons and lace.
“Maybe something fitted.” She gestures to the nearest rack. “What do you think, Aurora? Something that shows off your waist?”
A presence at my other side triggers unpleasant prickling down my spine.
Vitaly’s sneer fails to disguise itself as a smile. “Are you enjoying yourself?” He leans closer, his breath hot against my ear. “Hope you know what you signed up for. Alexei breaks all his toys.”
The warning slips under my skin like ice water, chilling me from the inside out.
He smirks as he correctly interprets my reaction as fear. “And once they’re broken, he throws them away.”
Before the threat fully registers, Alexei materializes beside us.
With his focus on me, he drops his hand on Vitaly’s shoulder. The younger man flinches, the color draining from his face as Alexei’s fingers tense. “I think you’ve had enough alcohol, little brother.”
Vitaly’s sneer vanishes, clouded by something resembling fright. His body goes pliant as Alexei steers him toward the door.
No resistance. No argument. Just immediate compliance.
The message is silent yet lethal. Everyone in attendance understands. EvenIunderstand, and I’m the newest player in this dangerous game.
Touch what’s mine, and I will hurt you.
Alexei speaks in low tones to Vitaly, whose skin tone changes from pale to red. The boutique resumes its buzz of activity, conversations flowing again.
But the shift casts a shadow over the previously upbeat mood.
I should be horrified at how easily Alexei intimidates even family. Instead, some treacherous part of me feels…safe.
What’s wrong with me?
“Let’s try a different one.” A blond employee in a lavender pencil skirt and blazer appears with another armful of white silk and lace. “Perhaps a gown with more structure.”
I’m guided back to the dressing rooms and helped into a heavy silk gown with intricate beading at the bodice. The dress is beautiful and timeless. One I might have chosen in another life.
A normal life where wedding dresses symbolize real nuptials rather than survival strategies.
I twist, trying to glimpse at the gown from behind. “Maybe. I’m not sure.”
The attendant hands me a red silk robe to wear while they prepare the next possibility. The material cools my skin, slipping over my shoulders like breeze. I wander back into the waiting area, feeling like a pampered princess imprisoned in a tower.
“So. You and Alexei.”
Roman reclines on the velvet chaise. His shrewd eyes appraise me. Everyone else has busied themselves with combingthrough the rows of dresses. Even the men and children have scattered.
I stand on the dais, uneasy from being in the spotlight. My hands twist the robe’s slippery silk. Chilling with Alexei’s uncle while clad in a flimsy covering wasn’t on today’s bingo card.
“Yes!” I chirp. “Us. Together. As a couple. Who are engaged.”
Kill me now. I sound like a malfunctioning robot.
A beat passes, and the Pakhan’s unhurried scrutiny activates a flurry of anxiety. I curl my toes into the carpet to stop myself from squirming. “How long have you been together?”
I open my mouth to recite our practiced lie. Six months after meeting at Red Bird’s. A whirlwind romance.
