I stare at my reflection in the full-length mirror in the church’s dressing room. The Orthodox church the wedding is held in is the one used by all the Russian weddings I’ve attended. I’m sure it has Bratva connections.
The door slams open and in marches the devil himself.
“Katerina, you’re not going to fuck this up, understood? I expect only the best from you. This is the start of the Syndicate’s downfall.” Viktor looks me up and down, then grins. “The dress looks good. I chose well.”
I knew he picked this monstrosity out, because no one else could have this horrible taste in fashion.
I just stare past him. I can’t form a sentence right now. I can’t do anything. I’ve turned off all emotions. All feelings. I’m empty.
Viktor scowls and stomps across the tiny room. He grips my arms tightly and shakes me.
“Do. You. Understand? You will do this for me. For my Bratva. You useless girl.” Spit sprays my face as he speaks, but I can’t move to wipe it away.
“Yes, ????,” I whisper.
He shakes me one last time, then squeezes me hard enough to make my fingers numb.
“I will make your life hell if you mess this up. Your only worth is what you can do for me.” He snorts then drops me.
His hatred awakens my own.
“Fuck you. You’re lucky you have me as a bargaining chip!” I spit back at him.
“Why you little–” He raises his hand, ready to slap me, but my words stop him.
“Uh uh! You don’t want to damage the product before you sell it. Dominic Montclair might not like that.” My grin takes over.
Is this my new protection? Could Dominic care enough about the state of his wife that he wouldn’t allow Viktor to harm me anymore? Even if he doesn’t care, Viktor doesn’t need to know that. This could change everything.
“There’s more I can do to you than just physical violence. I don’t care whose last name you have or whose wife you are, you will always belong to me. Just as your worthless mother did.”
With those words, words that make my blood boil, he storms out of the room.
The mention of ???? crushes me. I wish she were here. Even though I didn’t get a choice in any of this, not even in my groom, I still wish she were here for my wedding.
I wipe the spit from my face and pull myself together.
Yelena is the next one to enter the room. She holds up a vodka shooter and hands it to me.
“Za nóvoye nachálo i udáchu na putí,” she cheers, then clinks hers to mine.
I nod at the salutation of new beginnings and luck on the road ahead, and then I throw back the shot. She does the same.
Yelena steps back and looks me over. She straightens my sleeves and pats my cheek.
“You can handle this man. He is nothing compared to what you’ve already conquered.” Yelena meets my eyes once more, then leaves me alone.
It’s the first time Yelena’s ever spoken ill of Viktor to me. I’ve never suspected she harbored any negative feelings toward him. I guess her stoic front hides opinions that align closely with mine.
After twenty minutes of doing nothing, there’s a knock at the door.
I look up in confusion.
I truly have no idea who it could be. No one respects me enough to knock and wait for my permission to come in.
The cute, patterned knock happens again, and I speak up.
“Come in,” I say hesitantly.
