Outside her door, my hand hovers for just a moment before dropping to my side.
I don’t know how I’m supposed to walk away from her now. I only know that I have to try.
Chapter 14
Alyona
Istare at my reflection like I’m trying to solve a puzzle that refuses to click into place.
The woman in the mirror looks like someone else entirely, but I’m in there somewhere. The dress Kazimir chose clings to my body with unapologetic intent. The gold fabric molds to my curves, and the slit slices high up my thigh in a way that makes my own pulse tick faster every time I shift my weight. My breasts are pushed up and forward, full and almost obscene in their presentation, the neckline daring anyone who looks at me to stare too long.
I don’t recognize the person in the mirror staring back at me.
I also can’t look away.
A soft knock sounds at the door, but it doesn’t open. Nothing in this house happens without permission…unless you’re Kazimir Baranov.
I exhale slowly, forcing myself to breathe past the tightness in my chest. One week. I’ve been here one week, and somehow that feels like both a blink and a lifetime. The Baranov Estate has settled around me in ways I didn’t expect. Its quiet order and controlled movements offering a strange, disorienting sense of safety.
I hate that part the most.
My phone buzzes on the vanity, and I grab it gratefully hoping the distraction is grounding for me. Devin’s name flashes on the screen, followed immediately by her message.
you look SINFUL. that gold makes you glow!!
I huff out a breath that’s almost a laugh, my shoulders loosening despite myself. She’s seen the photo I sent her earlier, snapped quickly before I could talk myself out of it. I can practically hear her voice through the screen. She’s all heat, encouragement, and unwavering loyalty.
I type back;I look like I’m about to be arrested for something illegal.
Three little dots, and then an almost immediate response:yeah but…sexy illegal. like extortion.
babe. if they arrest you, I’ll bail you out and steal the dress.
I smile, small and crooked, then put the phone back on the vanity as reality presses in again. Tonight isn’t about me feeling beautiful or confident or even comfortable. Tonight is about being seen, photographed, and catalogued as Kazimir Baranov’s fiancée. And it’s happening whether I feel ready for that label or not.
I smooth my hands down the front of the dress, and try not to think about the last time he looked at me like I was something dangerous and inevitable at once. It’s been days since that night, and I’ve done my best to lock it away, treat it like an anomaly, or a crack in the rules that won’t be repeated.
This doesn’t happen again.
Those were his words. He said them low and hard like he meant it.
Still, my body remembers.
The car ride to the casino is so quiet it almost feels like a punishment. Although I’m not sure which of us is being punished. Kaz sits beside me dressed in a dark suit that makes him look carved rather than clothed. His presence is solid and controlled, but his attention is focused outward even when I feel it in brief, assessing glances. His hand rests on the seat between us, not touching me, never touching me. I don’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed by his restraint.
The casino is everything it promises to be, a glittering temple of excess and money, and air that’s thick with perfume and ambition. As soon as we step inside, the attention on us hits like a punch. Eyes turn toward us, whispers follow, and phones lift in an attempt to take discreet photos. Kaz’s hand finds the small of my back, it’s firm and possessive, guiding me forward as though I belong exactly where he’s placed me.
Most of the crowd is from a younger generation of wealth. New money. The kind of men who came to The Foundry looking for drugs we didn’t have and the kind of women they could marry who would smile sourly, pretending to accept their husband’s predilections. When I glance up at Kaz I realize he’s at least two decades older than…well, almost everyone.
Somehow, he manages to look more sure of himself than anyone else in the room. It’s like he has the keys to this city, which in a way he does.
I tell myself to breathe.This is temporary. They’ll shut down this other cartel boss, and then it’s over.
Then I see him.
One of the men from The Foundry, his face instantly familiar in a way that makes my stomach knot. His gaze slides over mewith recognition and something ugly underneath it. He smirks, leaning slightly toward Kaz as we pass. His voice is low, but not low enough for me not to hear.
“Didn’t know you had a thing for the help,” he says. His words drip with implication.
