Her brows knit, not liking his insult. Talking about her family was a ten-year marriage type of thing. But she let it go and stood beside him as they watched the festivities. Their wedding reception was loud and packed full of people they barely knew. If this were a wedding for love, it might feel a bit different; instead,it felt like a business deal. She stood beside him with her hands tight at her side, wondering if she was daring enough to hold his. But she wasn’t.
Maxim put a hand on her back, and she flinched, not expecting to be touched. “Sorry.” She leaned back into his oversized hand. It was necessary, she knew. He was her husband after all. Someone tapped their glass, and she mentally cringed when a barrage of rings went out as all attention landed on them, waiting for the newlyweds to kiss. Maxim chuckled and waved, turning to his bride. They had already kissed a handful of times, little pecks on the lips that lasted no more than a second, but as he pulled her closer, with his brown eyes glowing, she knew what he was expecting. Her belly somersaulted and she unconsciously licked her lips. He gripped the back of her head and pulled her to him.
Kira expected the same kind of tension, like when one kisses an uncle on the cheek they don’t like. But this was a burst of electricity that shot through her straight down to her toes. She gripped his jacket if only to hold on. She pressed herself against him as their lips twisted and the world was forgotten. Kira couldn’t hear the cheering—Only her heart, which pounded in her ears. His hands roamed on her back, respectfully staying above the waist, but she wanted more, wanted to feel everything, wanted his hands and lips to dive into places no one had. Kira never wanted anyone more, and if they were alone, she would peel off every piece of clothing, just to be closer.
When he parted from her, the world smacked into her, and Kira panted as she got her bearings again, keeping her grip. It was then that she realized she was being watched, and heat flooded her cheeks; she smiled to combat the embarrassment, not having the courage to look at her father. Maxim laughed when a friend pounded his back, and she released him, trying desperately to fix her composure. Her sisters congregatedaround her, so happy that out of the three of them, Kira was the one who was getting married, not only because of an arrangement but because they both seemed to like each other.
It was a relief. She was going to have the best marriage and best life from here on out. Nothing could go wrong now.
Chapter two
Act
The door slammed, and Kira’s head popped up. She had fallen asleep on the way home. All the days leading up to this event had exhausted her, but to fall asleep in the car must have been a great insult. She spun her head around, searching for Maxim, but he was stomping into the house. She grabbed at the handle, but the door wouldn’t open until a servant pulled it open for her.
Taking their hand, Kira stepped out, fixing the wrinkles in her dress. She wanted to run after him, terrified she had been rude, but a woman stood in her way. “Mrs. Morozov, welcome to the Ostrovsky estate.” She stopped and stuttered. “Forgive me. I guess it is now called the Morozov Estate.”
Kira sighed and gave the maid her attention. “It’s okay. Thank you.”
She stood in front of the estate and smiled. It was all hers. Though dull and unkempt, ideas sprang and excitement bubbled. The estate was twenty acres with its own fishing pond, and though only half the size of her family home, it already meant the world to her. The servant, Lydia, filled her in on the details as she brought Kira into the house. It was a ten-bedroom, fifteen-thousand-square-foot home with ten servants to do her bidding. They lined up to greet her, and she smiled at each one, eager to hear their stories in the coming days. Kira wanted to be the kind of boss who cared for her workers, hoping that in a way, they would become family.
Kira took off her coat, taking in a deep breath. This was the start of a new life. It was a place her father couldn’t reach her, a place where her sister’s depression couldn’t touch her, and a place where she could be herself and not be judged.
Lydia brought her upstairs and opened a door. The room was plain, like every other, with a large bed and an ornate tapestry. She flicked the lights on to find all her luggage had already been brought up, but the confusion set in.
“I’m sorry. Why aren’t I in the room with Maxim?”
“Yes, ma’am, he said you would be more comfortable here.”
She giggled. Kira adored it. He was giving her space, knowing how nervous she would be on her wedding night, but she knew her place, she knew what she had to do, and she had accepted it a long time ago.
“Where is his room?”
Lydia gestured, and together they traveled the hall. It was odd to her that they didn’t have connecting rooms. She understood ‘his and hers,’ but being so far from each other didn’t make sense. How was he supposed to come into her room at night?
As they headed up another set of stairs, Kira’s confusion became more pronounced.
It doesn’t matter. I’ll fix it tomorrow.
On the top floor, he had the entire wing to himself, with large wooden double doors leading to his quarters. The servant knocked only once and led her in. Kira grabbed the woman’s hand. “Will you grab my green bag? It is the only one I need for the moment.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
The door closed, and Kira was alone in his room. She hoped it would bring more answers about who her husband was, but instead, it was just as plain, like an image from a home magazine had popped into place. There were zero personal artifacts. She would have even been happy to see clothes on the floor if only to get a glimpse of who he was. No one was this OCD.
The living area had a small bar, and an empty glass sat on the counter. She went to it, sniffed it, and smiled. Whiskey. Just like her father.
Through another set of doors was the bedroom. Black silk sheets stretched on the king-sized bed. Regular paintings decorated the walls, typically found in hotels. It was a cold, uninviting room with no personality. She was going to love decorating this place. Every area could become a part of her.
The shower was running, and her heart kick-started in her chest. Lydia came darting back in and handed her bag. “Could you unzip me?” With quick hands, she did as instructed and then ran out.
Kira took a deep breath and let the wedding dress fall to her feet. She wore a white lace bra and white thong, and kept her heels on, just the way her sisters told her. But she didn’t know what to do from there. She sat stiffly on the bed and then abruptly stood. She thought of crawling on it and posing, but that made her cringe.
When the shower stopped, Kira darted to her bag and sprayed herself with perfume, squirted a little extra in the nether regions, and popped a mint that she chewed with rapid speed beforeswallowing. And when the door opened, she twirled around and stood straight with her hands down at her sides in an effort to not expose how incredibly nervous she was.
Maxim stood in the doorway with a towel wrapped around his massive hips.
Her breath escaped her. She had never seen a more beautiful man. He had chiseled abs and well-rounded pectorals. And aside from a few scars, his skin was flawless. It was intimidating how perfect he was. Surely she was nothing in comparison. He must have been with dozens of beautiful women, none of whom were struggling with their weight or were unattractive. Her confidence nosedived, but she kept her head high, refusing to let it show. She was a Morozov, and there was nothing she couldn’t do.
