“Are you out of your fucking mind?” Alek demanded.
“This has to be a joke,” Anton said, looking between us.
“It’s not a joke,” I said calmly, even as my heart raced. “Beatrice and I are legally married.”
“What the fuck?” Anja’s mouth was still open. “What were you even thinking, Arko?”
“How about we all settle down?” I tried to divert their attention from the series of questions I knew were slowly taking root in their minds. “Let’s have some coffee and dig into the spread you brought.”
“Yes! I’m starving,” Beatrice said chirpily. “I can ask the maid to lay out what you got in the living room itself. It can be like an indoor picnic!”
“That sounds fun,” Anja smiled.
I shot Beatrice a grateful look, noticing that she was trying to cut the tension and understood what I was trying to do. I didn’t know why she helped me, since she certainly owed me nothing, but in that moment, I didn’t care to question it.
My siblings nodded, all turning to head for the stairs. I stayed rooted in my spot and felt Beatrice’s hand fall away as she followed them down. For some reason, it felt like a loss to not have her by my side.
I watched them file away, but Andrey hung back, waiting for me. When I collected myself and made to move, he joined me, shoulder to shoulder, as we descended the stairs.
“Have you lost your mind?” he demanded. “How could you marry a Lebedev? Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”
“I thought about it before I acted, Andrey.” I shot him a glare.
“You should have discussed this with us. Her brothers will be furious when they find out! Stop this madness, Arko. Just annul the marriage and send her back.”
For some reason, the very suggestion of it got my blood boiling. The idea of sending Beatrice back, after everything, after the morning we had just shared, felt utterly ridiculous.
“Stay out of this, Andrey,” I warned him. “I’m the eldest, and it would be wise for you to remember that I have a plan.”
“What plan?” he hissed. “Is your need for revenge so great that you’re willing to ruin everything this family has worked for?”
“I am doing this for our family!” I whirled on him, silencing him with one look. “And you’ll do well to remember that. When we go in there, you will treat my wife with respect, you hear? I need her for our plan to work.”
Andrey paled and said nothing more about his displeasure, as if he, too, understood that I was no longer sure of what I was doing.
Chapter 10 - Beatrice
When Arko’s family barged in on us that morning, the last thing I thought was that I’d be having breakfast with them. It was no secret that the Pavlovs hated my family, and the sane voice of reason in my head warned me to slink away to my bedroom, just to avoid the hostility that could come with being under the scrutiny of his siblings.
But then, when Arko announced his marriage to me and I sensed the disappointment, shock, and barrage of questions soon heading our way, something in me flipped.
Of course, it was utter madness to want to help the man who had kidnapped me and kept me prisoner, but something in me snapped into place when I sensed the protective edge in Arko’s body language.
He didn’t say, but I felt it in my bones, that if his siblings so much as threw one wrong look at me, he was willing to put up a fight. Even then, as we filed into the drawing room in polite silence, I remembered how his hand had curled around mine and how fiercely he had said those two words: My wife.
“Anyone up for mimosas?” Artyom eyed the room.
“It’s not even noon.” Alena cocked an eyebrow at her brother.
“Yeah, well.” Artyom cleared his throat, his wary eyes finding mine, but the minute he noticed I had caught him glancing over, he looked away. “It looks like we might need them.”
“To get through this, we might need more than mimosas,” Alek mumbled.
And once again, that tense, awkward silence fell over us. I felt every muscle in me coiled and on edge, as though my very body was preparing for what I was certain would be a hostile event.
God, they hated me, and I was far too aware of that little fact.
“Oh fuck it,” said Alena, falling onto the couch. “Let’s just do mimosas. Anything more and things might get wild.” She looked at me as she said it, her lips curling into a feral, naughty smile.
