Boris adjusts his glasses again, his disapproval still clear, but he nods. “Then we proceed. You’ll be married within the month.”
I lift my glass, swirling the amber liquid against the crystal before tipping it back. The burn trails down my throat, sharp and satisfying. Two weeks. The thought settles in, a quiet hum of anticipation beneath my ribs.
She’ll be mine.
Fully. Legally. Irrevocably.
27
Bella
Two days later
I’m halfway through my second cup of coffee when Julian stumbles into the kitchen, still half-asleep, rubbing a hand over his face like it physically pains him to be awake.
“Whoa.” He stops mid-step, his bleary eyes snapping into focus. “Uh. Are you… going somewhere?”
Lila isn’t far behind. She’s in one of my oversized hoodies, her hair a wild mess, clutching her phone. She glances up at me, squints, then lets out a dramatic gasp.
“Oh, my God, are you… dressed to impress?”
I roll my eyes and take a sip of my coffee. “Maybe I just wanted to remind myself that I’m a functional adult who owns something other than sweatpants.”
“You put on lipstick.” Julian gestures vaguely at my mouth like it’s an act of betrayal. “Red lipstick. This is serious.”
He’s not wrong. The last two days have been hell. My decision has flipped from yes to no, to no to yes so many times, I’m surprised I haven’t given myself whiplash. Every time I look at my phone, I expect… something. A message? A sign? Divine intervention? But nothing comes. Just silence. And I hate silence.
So, today, I woke up early. I put on my best fitted blazer, the one that says, “I know exactly what I’m doing,” even though I definitely don’t. I swiped on the red lipstick—because red is confidence, and confidence is a requirement when making a deal with the devil. And today, I am walking straight into hell.
“I’m meeting someone.” I set my coffee down, smoothing invisible wrinkles from my pants.
“A date?” Lila’s eyes light up, her phone abandoned on the counter.
Julian snorts. “Yeah, right. Bella doesn’t date. Bella works. Bella stress-eats cereal straight out of the box and argues with the toaster.”
“First of all, the toaster started it,” I say, pointing at him. “Second, it’s not a date. It’s business.”
Lila and Julian exchange a look, and I don’t appreciate whatever silent conversation is happening between them.
“Business?” Julian crosses his arms, leaning against the counter. “What kind of business requires red lipstick at seven-thirty in the morning, before we even leave for school?”
I open my mouth, then shut it. They don’t know. Not yet. And the words feel too big, too heavy to say out loud.
Instead, I take a deep breath, grab my house keys, and sling my bag over my shoulder. “The kind that changes everything.”
The Uber rolls to a stop, and I step out, my fingers curling around the strap of my purse. The contract sits inside, crisp and unyielding, a weight heavier than paper. I think I know what I’m going to say. What I need to ask. What I refuse to compromise on.
But then I look up.
Belov Global Holdings.
It’s not a building—it’s a fortress. A glistening tower of glass and steel, rising into the skyline like it owns the city. And maybe it does. I gulp, craning my neck, feeling absurdly small in the face of something so impossibly massive. My nerves had been manageable five minutes ago. Now, standing at the entrance of this empire, I feel like I’m walking into an entirely different world.
The revolving glass doors slide open as I step inside, and if the exterior was intimidating, the interior is a power move. The lobby is a cathedral of wealth—soaring ceilings, polished marble floors, sleek black and chrome accents that scream luxury without trying too hard. A colossal chandelier hangs above, a piece of modern art masquerading as lighting, casting fractals of light across the walls.
The people match the space.
Suits that cost more than my car glide across the floor, their wearers speaking into earpieces, murmuring in languages I don’t recognize. Agents—because these aren’t just real estate brokers, they’re agents—move with precision, discussing billion-dollar deals, land acquisitions, and industrial contracts with the kind of ease most people order coffee. This isn’t just aboutselling luxury penthouses and beachfront estates. Belov Global Holdings owns entire sections of the world.
