“You must be Peighton,” she says.
Her accent is smoother than the others, her English crisp. A welcome relief.
“Yes,” I answer. “That’s me.”
She offers a hand. “I’m Keira. My husband is Petyr Koz, Gustav’s second-in-command. I’m here to help you with the ceremony. New wives usually need guidance, especially with your... situation.”
There’s a lot she’s not saying, but I appreciate the attempt at tact.
She glances at the doorways and asks, “Will your parents be arriving soon? It’s customary for at least one parent to be at the wedding.”
“Um... no.” I shift awkwardly. “There isn’t enough time for my dad to get here. I wish he could walk me down the aisle.”
She nods politely, then asks, “And your mother?”
I take a slow breath, not expecting this question so early into meeting a stranger. “My mom is in the witness protection program... you know.”
Keira’s lips part slightly. “Witness protection?”
She doesn’t get it.
“In America,” I clarify, “it means the government is keeping her safe, but it’s really my dad’s slang forshe’s dead. You don’t leave the mob. Or him. She was unfaithful.”
Keira’s gaze softens. “That’s... not good.”
I hug myself. “I was sixteen,” I add quietly. “The day he told me she left us. I never spoke to her again. Sometimes I feel like she’s alive. But probably not.”
Keira absorbs this carefully. Her sympathy feels real, not forced or condescending.
But then her face tightens in a very different way.
“Peighton,” she says softly, “you must never tell anyone about that.”
My stomach dips. “About what?”
“Your mother’s infidelity.” Keira glances down the hallway, ensuring no one is nearby.
“If Gustav ever hears she was unfaithful, he may assume it runs in the blood.”
It lands like a slow, cold realization.
“He’d think I’d cheat too?” I whisper.
Keira nods. “Men in this world are superstitious. Old-fashioned. Brutal. Sometimes all three. Do not give them reasons to doubt you.”
I swallow, heat rising in my cheeks.
“Thank you for telling me,” I murmur.
Keira places a hand on my shoulder, her voice gentler now.
“You didn’t choose these circumstances. But now that you will be one of us, you must protect yourself. And caution is protection.”
I nod.
“Also,” she continues, “Since your father can’t attend, I’ll get a replacement. The eldest man in the bratva, Dmitri Grigorevich, will walk you down the aisle. It is a great honor.”
My breath catches. “Thank you. Really.”
