As our driver pulls away from the estate, I want to ask him about the details of the meeting with Alessandro that got him in trouble.
Is it just that he pulled a gun on Maksim?
Why do we have a driver instead of Cristian driving?
Is he a chaperone?
Maybe Cristian reported that I was hitting on him.
No, he wouldn’t do that, would he?
“Thank you for taking me out today,” I say, inwardly wincing at how awkward this is. Why is that?
“You’re welcome.” He keeps his eyes forward, his tone professional.
I sigh and ride with him in silence to Manhattan.
Even with this tension, I feel safe.
With Cristian, I can breathe.
When we arrive at the spa, my friends are already there, and I quickly let go of my fears about my future and focus on them.
As we get pampered, Cristian stands guard.
"Can't we convince him to get a massage too?" Giana whispers, eyeing Cristian where he stands rigidly by the doorway of the spa's relaxation lounge. "Poor man looks like he could use one."
I glance over my shoulder.
Cristian's scanning the room, looking so comically out of place in his dark suit in a sea of soft white robes.
"I doubt he'd agree," I say, sinking deeper into my plush chair as I get a pedicure. "Besides, he wouldn't be able to protect me if he's face-down on a massage table."
"Protect you from what? Cucumber slices?" Sophia laughs, adjusting her face mask. "This place is full of half-naked society wives and their daughters. The most dangerous thing here is the gossip."
The attendant brings us champagne flutes filled with cucumber and mint-infused water, and I take a long sip, grateful for this moment of normalcy with my friends.
"So…" Teresa leans in, lowering her voice. "Not long until your day. How are you feeling?"
My stomach knots.
The point of this outing is to forget the wedding and Maksim. "Terrified."
At first, they laugh, thinking I’m joking about cold feet or something.
But then Giana takes my hand. “I’m sure it will be okay.”
"I know arranged marriages are our reality," I continue, "but Maksim isn't Mafia… He’s different…"
"My cousin married into the Petrov family last year," Sophia says with a nod. "She was miserable for the first few months, but now she says it's tolerable. She’s learned their ways and they've found a rhythm."
"Tolerable," I repeat. "That's what I have to look forward to. If I'm lucky."
Giana squeezes my fingers. "At least he's handsome? Those shoulders, and those eyes…"
I shudder, and my friends exchange worried glances.
“Are you worried about the wedding night?” Teresa asks.
