I say nothing.
She stands, smooth and unhurried, and lifts her bag onto her shoulder. “I think we’ve acquainted ourselves enough.”
She leans in just enough for me to catch her perfume—familiar and devastating.
“See you tomorrow, my darling husband.”
Then she turns and walks away.
I don’t look away until she disappears through the doors.
Fuck. I’m in hell.
When I slide into the backseat, Marko already looks like he has an opinion loaded and ready to fire. I hope—for both our sakes—that he keeps it to himself. I’m not in the mood to be analyzed.
He starts the engine. The car pulls away from the curb, smooth and fast.
My phone vibrates in my pocket. I take it out.
Lev: How did the meeting go? Don’t mess this up, Seb.
I don’t reply. I lock the screen and stare out the window as the city blurs past.
Tomorrow is the engagement soirée.
Ten days later, I marry a woman whose motives I don’t know.
Who am I kidding? I know.
The fact that she agreed to this marriage is answer enough.
“Sebastian,” Marko says from the driver’s seat. “How did the meeting with Sienna go?”
“Fine.”
He hums, like he doesn’t believe me. “I saw her go in. She looks good.”
My body goes rigid.
Something about Marko saying that—about anyone saying that—scrapes wrong under my skin.
“Watch your mouth,” I snap. “She’s going to be my wife.”
“Your wife, huh?” He shakes his head. “Why’d you even agree to marry her?”
I turn my glare on the back of his head. “What do you want me to do, Marko? Go against the council? Against the Pakhan?”
“It wouldn’t be the first time,” he shoots back. “You jilted her, Sebastian. You were cruel to her. And now she’s agreed to marry you, just like that, and you think it’ll be a bed of roses?” He exhales sharply. “She’s got something up her sleeve.”
“And so what?” My voice hardens. “I’m supposed to run forever?”
Silence stretches.
“It doesn’t matter what she’s planning,” I continue. “I’ll always be steps ahead. I’m not calling off the wedding.”
There’s something final in my tone.
Marko doesn’t say another word for a long time.
