“Bella, you’re a control freak.”
I gasp. “Rude.”
“True, though,” she continues, unfazed. “You’re spiraling because, for the first time in your life, you’re not struggling. You’re not juggling five disasters at once. The house is safe. Your siblings are in disgustingly expensive schools. No more Uncle Gremlin and Aunt Scammer trying to screw you over. And all it cost you was—what? One year of playing doting wife to a broody Russian gazillionaire who, let’s be honest, probably smells amazing?”
I let my head fall back against the wall of the closet. “Elena, I don’t even know him.”
“Exactly. Which means no emotional baggage! It’s like marrying a really well-dressed NPC. Just nod and smile until you hit the one-year mark, then collect your freedom like a divorce settlement Pokémon card.”
I groan. “That’s not how marriage works.”
“It is when there’s a contract involved,” she counters. “Besides, you should begratefulyou don’t have to deal with a real husband. Imagine if he actually expected you to cook, clean, or—God forbid—participate in one of thosequirkycouples’ TikTok accounts.”
A shudder runs down my spine. “You make a compelling argument.”
“I know.”
There’s a pause, then Elena asks, “So… do the kids know you’re getting married?”
I stare at the ceiling of the closet, watching how the light catches on a sequined gown hanging above me. “Julian knows.”I sigh. “Well, part of it. He knows I’m marrying a man named Konstantin, but he thinks it’s some whirlwind romance I’ve been hiding.”
“And he bought that?” Elena sounds skeptical.
“No, he’s too smart.” I run my finger along the edge of a shoebox. “He cornered me yesterday and said, ‘Either you’ve lost your mind, or there’s money involved.’ When I didn’t deny it, he figured out I’m doing this for them, for the house, but…” I lower my voice. “He doesn’t know it’s a one-year deal with an expiration date. He doesn’t know about the contract.”
“That’s for the best, babe.”
“I know, I know. He’s…adapting. His new school has an astrophysics lab, Elena. An actual lab where they let teenagers play with actual space things. He’s in heaven, even if he won’t admit it.”
“And Hurricane Lila?”
I press my forehead against my knees. “She called me Judas at breakfast yesterday.”
“Ouch.”
“Yeah. Then told me she needed four hundred dollars for ‘supplemental calculus materials’ that turned out to be concert tickets.”
Elena snorts. “Classic Lila.”
“She hates me,” I whisper, and it hurts more than I want to admit. “Says I’ve ruined her life by making her transfer schools. That all her friends think she’s abandoned them. That her math teacher thinks she’s ‘remedial.’”
Elena laughs, then sobers. “Babe, listen. I know Lila’s pissed now, but give her time. She’s 14. She’d hate you if youbreathedwrong. But someday, she’ll see what you did for her. Same with Julian. You made the best choice. Theonlychoice.”
My stomach twists. I don’t like how that feels—like I’ve trapped myself in something that might not be as simple as I told myself it would be.
Elena sighs. “Okay, enough feelings. You would not believe what I saw yesterday. They have these vending machines that sell—”
“If you tell me about used panties again, I swear to God—”
“No, no. Well, yes, they have those too. But I meant the ones with tiny octopus figurines wearing business suits. Like little salaryman octopuses. Octopi? Whatever. I bought seven.”
I laugh despite myself. “That’s what you’re doing with your corporate expense account? Buying tentacled businessmen?”
“Hey, it’s cultural research.”
“Yeah… right—” I stop, hearing footsteps outside the closet. I hold my breath.
“Ms. Marquez?” a heavily accented voice calls. Natasha, the wedding planner from hell, who materializes like a vengeful spirit whenever I have a moment of peace. “The Elie Saab is ready for final fitting!”
