“You do?” she asked gingerly, her voice bringing me back from my trance.
“Yes, yes. It’s lovely, thank you.”
“Oh, I’m glad. It’s time for the dress.”
She helped me into the simple dress and came behind me to zip the low back up. The silky feel of the fabric beneath my fingers was something I would have loved if circumstances were different. The plunging V-neck gave the tiniest hint of the swell of my breasts, and it was cinched up to the waist, where it flared into a wider skirt that flowed gracefully to my feet.
“Ah, perfect! Just a final touch and we’re good,” she remarked, gesturing to the seat.
Just as I stood from the chair again, the door opened, and Konstantin Lobanov walked in. There was no leather jacket this time; he had a black suit over a white shirt and black pants, all of which looked tailored. His hair was in its usual low ponytail, buta few strands fell to his forehead. One could mistake him for an actual model or even a CEO. Not that any of it mattered to me.
“It’s time,” he said as I met his eyes.
“Let’s get this over with,” I muttered, straightening my spine and squaring my shoulders as I walked toward him.
He didn’t say anything, and I didn’t bother attempting to break the silence as we walked to the chapel.
“That’s Alexei Lobanov,” he said as I gazed at the tall green-eyed man in a suit who muttered something to him in Russian as we walked on. “Our first cousin. He oversees our European operations. He’s the closest to us right now, so he’ll be a witness.”
The man looked at me with something like curiosity, but didn’t say anything.
The whole event, not that it was anything celebratory, seeing as there was no soft wedding music or even a real aisle for me to walk up, passed in a blur.
Before I knew it, Konstantin and I were standing facing each other as the priest read the vows.
“I will never belong to you,” I whispered to him.
Of all reactions, he simply raised a brow with a smirk on his face.
Really?!
Chapter Eight
Konstantin’s POV
The ceremony was as stark as the living room of this safehouse. There were no tender flowers or any music playing. It was just vows and nothing more. We didn’t even exchange rings. The officiating priest was flown in to conduct the vows, be compensated, then flown out again immediately after. Since Alexei was in Norway, it made sense to invite him to be a witness.
Sergei was my best man and, although there was no one to stand in as bridesmaid (or whatever they called it these days) beside Alina, she owned the space in front of me. She didn’t need any support to look in control, and I couldn’t deny the fact that I was intrigued yet again.
Moments after, I still thought of how Alina’s ‘I do’ sounded not like surrender but a challenge.
Of course, I had seen her stand her ground at Roman’s house, but this was an entirely different situation. It was marriage, something I was sure wasn’t casual to her. She had been pulled into a web of suspicion and a union she never would have wanted, and she still acted like all was fine, like she was in charge.
The thought started a pulse of heat in me that I didn’t want to name.
We added our signatures to the marriage certificate, and a round of applause marked the finality of the wedding.
We were married. Alina was now my wife.
“Congratulations,” Alexei muttered, his hand slapping my shoulder. “Or condolences.”
I chuckled, my mind on Alina, who was slipping into the adjoining room, her face pale but composed.
My first thought was to go after her. But I asked myself if I’d have a reason to give if she asked me why I followed her. There was nobody here that we needed to put on a show for, so I couldn’t use that as an excuse.
Why do I even feel the urge to follow her in the first place?
“Boss, congratulations,” Sergei greeted, a hint of a smile on his face.
