I nodded. “I’ll pass the message along.” I tossed back what was left of the vodka in my glass. The burn of the liquid didn’t hurt nearly as much as the information Kozlov just threw into my lap.
“Good. I like the younger Morelli. He seems smarter than his father.”
I nodded, agreeing silently. I wouldn’t speak out vocally against Luca Morelli until I knew for sure the information Kozlov gave was both accurate and not attached to any strings. If Kozlov had an angle, though, I couldn’t see it. Why would he volunteer that information for free?
“Where and when are you getting married?”
“Tomorrow morning, at the courthouse.”
Egor shook his head. “No. You’ll get married here on Saturday, Valentine's Day. I would like to be a witness to your nuptials, and there are already a few weddings planned in the ballrooms. I will pay for one of the officiants to stay after the ceremony so you can marry in the proper setting. Alek will see to it.”
“Why are you doing this?” I asked him, curious to see if he would reveal a motive.
“Let’s just say that our interests align if you two are hitched.” Egor smiled. “Go on now, enjoy your night. I’ll send word when everything is worked out.”
I nodded. “Thank you, Pakhan.”
Bianca and I rose together; she’d stayed quiet because years in this life have taught her as much. I hated that for her, but in this case, I’m glad she did. Her only reaction was when Egor mentioned my father’s death.
We followed Alek back out of the office through the same way we’d entered it. He only took us back as far as the casino floor before he disappeared behind the layers of security again.
Bianca looked up at me with her wide, honey-colored eyes, “What just happened?”
Chapter Nine
Bianca
I was bewildered by the meeting we’d just had with the head of the Russian bratva. He was different from what I’d imagined him to be. I expected someone older and scarier looking, but Egor Kozlov was a silver fox. His dark hair was peppered with gray in a way that was sexy. It’s not something I would admit to Lorenzo, but the man was intriguing, as was his right-hand man.
“Looks like our marriage has the support of the Russian bratva,” Lorenzo muttered as he put his hand on my back and guided me back toward the shops.
“Why, though?” I asked. “He can’t have heard about what my father was planning, can he?”
“He could if the Morelli family has a leak somewhere. A leak that let slip my father was murdered by yours to the Russians.” Lorenzo’s voice was harsh and low. I knew he didn’t have love for my father, that if it wasn’t for Romeo, he would have been gone a long time ago.
“Do you think it’s true?” I whispered, my fear that it was true eating me up inside. My father was capable of anything. And what if it was true and Lorenzo held it against me?
Lorenzo sighed, “It’s a big accusation to make, so there’s either truth to it, or it’s a ploy to cause the Morelli family to crack and crumble. I don’t know what his endgame is in this, but he’s the Pakhan for a reason, Bianca.”
“What happens if it’s true?” I bit my lip nervously as we stepped back into the shop. The clerk sent us a warm smile as we made our way back to the dressing room.
“For now, nothing. There’s nothing to be done until you’re safe from being forced to marry Arias. Getting to the bottom of what he said won’t bring my dad back or change the past.”
He was stronger than I was. I knew Lorenzo loved his dad when he was a kid. He was torn up over his dad’s death when he first moved in with us. I have vague memories of hearing him cry at night. I don’t think he ever knew that he was heard; he was always so strong, even back then.
“I’m so sorry, Lorenzo.” My heart ached for him. If my dad killed his dad, then he was unknowingly raised by his enemy. His best friend was the son of his enemy, and his future wife–at least temporarily–was the daughter of his enemy. That would be a lot for anyone to deal with and come to terms with.
“There’s no need to be sorry, Bea. We don’t know if it’s true yet, and even if it is. It’s nothing to do with you, and it doesn’t change our plan.” He reached up and tucked some loose strands of my hair behind my ear. It was a sweet gesture that made those fizzy bubbles float up into my chest again.
I nodded and stepped into him, wrapping my arms around his middle and resting my head on his chest. He was so big. I was already small, dancers had to be small so they could be lifted and swung around on stage, but Lorenzo made me feel even smaller. The feel of his solid chest beneath my cheek was a contradiction with the softness of the suit he wore. I rarely saw him in anything but dark jeans and dark shirts. The only time he remotely dressed up was for weddings, funerals, and church on the holidays when we would all attend together.
Lorenzo wrapped his arms around me and held me close in the middle of the store. There was nobody here for us to fake a relationship or being in love. Based on what Kozlov said, he already knew this was fake, but it felt like so much more than a deception for my father’s sake. It felt real. At least for me, it felt real.
I smiled when I heard his stomach rumble with hunger. He’d told Kozlov that he hadn’t eaten since last night, and it was almost time for our dinner reservations. “I guess we shouldfinish shopping.” I laughed softly and pulled myself out of his arms, trying to cover up how much his embrace affected me, how much he affected me.
“Sure. We have a few more shops to hit before the jeweler for the rings.”
“Rings?” I stared at him blankly. Rings? Wedding rings. Fake marriage. Rings. I took a deep breath and blew it out hard. I figured there would be a ring on my finger at some point, but this is not the way I’d imagined I would get it there. Marrying the man of my dreams, but not truly being married to him, was the cruelest form of torture. Cupid was playing a game with my heart for Valentine’s Day.
