This surely isn’t the kind of dress she imagined wearing on her wedding day. I’m not a wedding expert by any stretch of the imagination, but I’ve been to my fair share. Women never come down the aisle in such plain dresses. Their wedding is supposed to be a spectacle, with the bride at the center.
Did I steal that moment from her? I let myself imagine, just for a second, how different this would all be if it were real. I think about her walking toward me without fear in her eyes. I think about proposing to her in a romantic way that she tells all her friends and family members about.
I think of a wedding without guards, and without lies. A marriage that doesn’t have an expiration date.
Then I remember that it’s no good wishing for a future that I can never have. I close the garment bag carefully, zipping it up with more care than I unzipped it. I hold my breath, like even breathing on it wrong will curse it.
This wedding already feels cursed. For one thing, it isn’t real and it’s never going to be. Even if I wish otherwise, even if I want Alina to be my wife for real. This marriage is nothing more than a ploy to keep her safe, and possibly draw out my enemies. Wishing for anything more is foolish.
I go back to my office and pour myself a whiskey. If this must come to an end, I’m going to make sure it’s a satisfying end. I’m going to find the man who’s been threatening my life, and I’m almost certain it’s Kostya Belov. I turn all my attention to a plan to catch him and expose him for the weasel he is.
Death would be too good for him. After all the hell he’s put us through, it would be too quick. He deserves to suffer. I want to see the light leave his eyes as he realizes I’ve won. I’ve taken everything from him, and I won’t stop until his life is completely over.
Then I want him to wallow in misery. He deserves a slow, agonizing death.
I fully intend on giving it to him.
27
ALINA
Iwake up early the next morning with a newfound purpose. Yesterday was a bit of a nightmare, but it didn’t need to be. I’ve spent nearly two months in hiding, so it’s natural that my first real outing would feel uncomfortable. I’m determined that this won’t become my new norm. So, for the first time in two months, I make plans.
The thought comes to me while I’m still half-asleep, staring at the ceiling of a bedroom that still doesn’t feel like mine. Morning light filters through the tall windows in pale gray strips, dancing on the walls in a playful way, like the sun itself is inviting me outside. For a few glorious moments, I get to pretend that my life is normal and I’m just enjoying a lazy morning in bed, with no worries deeper than whether or not I’ll be late to work this morning.
I actually miss working. I miss the hectic schedule, the running around making sure that all the pieces fall into place before a big event. Catering is so much more than just serving food to people who act like they’re too good to eat. We set up everything, ensureevery detail is exactly as the host imagined, and that’s all before we even prep the food.
Then, it’s a relentless game. We have to make sure appetizers go into the oven at the right time and don’t cook too long. We have to time out the exact right time to cool them before we take them out to the guests. If there’s any small disaster, like a spill or an overly handsy guest, we must quickly adapt and adjust. It’s an exciting, fast-paced job from start to finish.
What I miss the most, though, is my best friend. I haven’t seen Kendra since my engagement party. I can’t imagine what she thinks about what happened to me after that night. If I know her at all, she’s probably been going out of her mind trying to get ahold of me. It hurts my heart to think of her getting my voicemail for two months straight.
So, when I get up, I ask Andrei if I can call her and make plans. I’m shocked when he agrees.
“It would be nice for you to see someone from your real life,” he answers nonchalantly. “Invite her to the wedding.”
I stare at him suspiciously. “I don’t even know when the wedding is,” I remind him.
“Well, tell her it’s coming and you’ll give her the details later.”
I nod enthusiastically before I realize the flaw in my plan.
“I don’t have any way to contact her, though,” I say lamely. “I don’t have a phone.”
It’s strange how easily I’ve adjusted to not having one this whole time. I planned this whole excursion in my head without even thinking about this one, stupid logistical issue.
“That’s fine,” he shrugs. “I’ll have Petya bring you a secure burner phone.”
I light up immediately. “Seriously?” I nearly scream.
“I’ve been meaning to do it anyway. Now that our engagement has been announced, there’s no reason for you to be off the grid. And you’ll need a way to contact me when we’re away from each other.”
I stare at him slack-jawed, unable to process the reality of this. I’m finally going to have a phone back. It’s one huge step back to normalcy.
True to his word, Petya arrives half an hour later with a brand-new phone for me. I nearly pull his arm off as I grab it and turn it on. I immediately type in Kendra’s number and write a message.
Hey bitch. Guess who’s back on the grid?
The text is immediately read and I see the telltale three dots pop up.
