“Hm,” I muttered. “When you’re not speaking in formal words, it seems you’re insightful. We could be friends.”
His lips twitched like he was trying not to smile. Or maybe smirk. Who knows, with a smirking devil like Mikhail being his boss?
We rode up in silence until the elevator beeped and the door opened, revealing an interior that looked sleeker than that of millionaire CEO's. I stopped a few feet away from the elevator door to take in my surroundings. The hardwood floor contrasted sharply against the beige walls, and four large flowerpots lined the wall of the not-so-narrow entryway.
The sight of Yuri, who was waiting for me at the door ahead, made me continue moving. He opened the door, and I was greeted with the sight of an insanely large living room. Pendant lights glowed softly from the high ceiling, illuminating the black couches and sofas around the glass table on a dark blue fur center rug. Long drapes covered the entirety of the opposite wall—I wouldn’t be surprised if there are floor-to-ceiling windows. The space was fluid, with the open-plan kitchen only partially enclosed from the dining room by the wall of the small bar. Everything was gleaming; of course, he had people clean it before his bride made her debut entry.
“Your bedroom is the second door down here,” Yuri mentioned, turning towards the dimly lit hallway. “Boss will join you soon.”
“Bet he will,” I mumbled, going further into the sitting room.
“I’ll get going now, ma’am.”
“Right. Say hi to my husband,” I requested, moving towards the dark drapes.
Man, that word sounds foreign.
“Yes, ma’am.”
The low clicking sound signaled his exit as I pulled a small portion of the drapes to the side. If the situation were any different, I would have screamed in amazement and maybe ecstasy at the sight of the windows, which were, indeed, floor-to-ceiling glass windows that stood several feet taller than I. The view of the not-so-distant city was not just panoramic, it was almost dizzying.
Letting go of the drapes, I found my way to the hallway. My hands moved over the doorknob of the first door, and it didn’t budge.
Probably a private office or artillery room. Whatever.
I went further until I was standing in front of the only door on the opposite wall. It was quite surprising that the hallway stopped just a few feet down- there were just two doors along it.
The second door wasn’t locked. Of course, Yuri said it was the ‘bedroom.’ I stepped into the room and shut the door behind me, folding my arms over my chest as I looked around.
From the king-sized bed sitting powerfully against the opposite wall, to the dresser, to the mahogany nightstands on either side of it, it was exactly the space I’d have imagined Mikhail resting his head in. It had a dark and almost empty aura, despite the aesthetic finish. I went over to the dresser on the far right, my eyes taking in the myriad of bottles and tubes of female lotions, sunscreens, and serums that decorated the polished wood surface. My phone, which I’d left on the bed in my room, was on the dresser table. Frowning at my reflection in the large, round mirror, I left the dresser and walked past the bed to the first door on the left. The walk-in closet gave me the confirmation I was looking for. Different outfits and pieces of clothing filled the other half of the space, from underwear to dinner dresses.
We’re staying together here. In this room.
As I stepped out of the closet, I chuckled at how this only made things easier for me. I pulled the drapes to the side, looking out the floor-to-ceiling windows.
My being calm wasn’t just because it made sense. It, in itself, was a strategy. A strategy for the revenge war that Mikhail unknowingly set off when he decided to marry me. Giovanni’s death wouldn’t just be washed away by the tide of time as another ordinary happening, I had sworn that at his graveside.
I would find out all about his death, which I was sure Mikhail was responsible for. Then I would gather as many implicating things about him and his damn Bratva—and bring about his downfall. But, Mikhail was a mafia boss for a reason. He wasn’t stupid. I couldn’t just jump into the plan.
I had to make him trust me. I would be the cool, typical wife for whom he’d let down his guard. I would find out his weaknesses before ruining him with them. I would get close to him so he wouldn’t even suspect when I dig the dagger in his side until after he's bleeding out.
And that starts with making the wedding night a normal, happy affair.
The sky had taken on a darker hue as I left the window.
Time to explore my closet.
**********
I stood up from the edge of the bed and moved towards the dresser, slightly leaning against it as I heard the click of a distant door. I released my hair from the chignon, letting it fall around me. The pink lipstick I wore for the wedding had given way to a dark red that matched the lace lingerie I wore. I waited for him like a queen awaited her king.
I suppressed my need to swallow in apprehension as the knob of the door turned.
Mikhail walked in, and I casually placed my hands on the dresser beside my body.
If he was surprised at the wedding, he looked stunned now.
Without blinking, his eyes moved from my face to my chest and then down my legs. When they came back to meet my eyes, he was stalking towards me.
