“Do you believe him?” Grace asks, seeking reassurance. She wants to believe Katarina’s bodyguards were overreacting, which is why I haven’t told her my suspicions.
“You tell me, Grace,” Hunter says as he leans forward, resting his elbows on the table and giving her his full attention. “Your best friend, Katarina did meet someone in the restaurant, didn’t she?”
I move my hand to Grace’s lap and she takes it gratefully. I don’t like how Hunter is making her uncomfortable. I match his pose and lean across the table. “Is that what brought you here, Hunter?”
“Sooner or later, you’re going to have to trust us with the truth,” Hunter says carefully. “And that needs to bebeforewe put our necks on the line to help Katarina.”
“Or else?” It sounds like a threat. “Are you going to walk away so I’m forced to marry her? Is Ash going to leave me to the mess he created?” I shake my head. “How will his friendship with Rory fare knowing you left the door wide open for the Bratva to get inside our company?”
“Damn it, Duke,” Hunter grits out. “Rory is just as concerned as we are that you’re not giving us the whole picture.” He turns back to Grace. “The hairdresser. What did he look like?”
“Enough!” I snap. I don’t want anyone else to make the same connections I’ve been slowly making. I need to speak to Katarina first. I need her assurance that the man she’s been stringing us all along for isn’t going to show up at the party and blow all our plans to hell. I need my brother home.
Maddie puts a hand on Hunter’s arm. “May I remind you both that you’re on the same side?” she says looking to each of us in turn. “Duke, I’m guessing there’s a good reason you can’t say more. You’re a good man. So is my husband. So are his brothers,” she states. “We don’t want anyone getting hurt.”
“Neither do I,” I say.
I just have to hold everything together for one more week and six days. That’s all.
Chapter 26
Grace
My fingers tremble and my freshly manicured nails catch in the intricate stitches of my dress as I slip it over my head. I’d still been working on it last night, sewing all the individual pieces together with gold thread and black yarn.
Even with the lace-effect, the dress is still heavy, but its weight is reassuring against my chest. I’d much prefer Duke’s arms, but he’s the reason my nerves are shot. Not the party. Not the wedding tomorrow or Katarina’s imminent departure. Nor is it the return of Duke’s brother or the Bratva soldiers who will accompany him. Those things add up to a level of terror so overwhelming that I’ve become numb to it.
No, what I’m currently finding terrifying is my surroundings. My stomach had dropped when I pulled up outside the rambling Moncrief mansion earlier today, and that’s exactly where it’s stayed. This is Duke’s family home. This is the lifestyle he’s inviting me to join, where valets wait at the entrance to park your car and someone else takes your bags to your room.
The guest bedroom I’ve been assigned is understated elegance that screams high-end luxury. The light color scheme is contrasted with heavy brocade and solid wood furniture. The seemingly simplistic accents are modern, but as a whole, the room, like the rest of the house, is doused in history. This is how the Moncriefs live. It’s how I’d be expected to live if Duke and I are to have a future together.
I’m actually going to miss the cocoon Duke has built around us in his office. I don’t know if I’m ready for the changes ahead. What if I can’t assimilate? What if I can’t live up to the legendary status they’ve labelled me with? Who could?
Standing in front of the full-length mirror, I assess my handiwork. The dress molds perfectly to my body and stops at my mid-thigh, while the scalloped edges of my long sleeves partially hide my trembling hands. The gold bodycon dress underneath is meant to protect my modesty, but it looks more flesh-colored in the warm light than I’d like. Before I spiral into a panic, there’s a knock on the door.
“Come in!”
I’m slipping on my nude six-inch heels as Ed strides into the room and dazzles me with his white tux.
“Oh, wow,” we both say at the same time.
Ed circles me as he inspects the dress. “Grace, you are gifted beyond words. You might just be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
“You think it’s OK?” I ask chewing my lip.
“Not it,you,” he says. His eyes are glassy, which makes me want to cry. I love this man. He genuinely means it.
But it’s still not enough to silence my doubts. “I’m having second thoughts about the bodycon. Does it look like I’m not wearing anything underneath the dress?”
“Yes.”
“I should change.”
“Absolutely not,” he insists. “Ready?”
I give myself one last look in the mirror. I’ve styled my dark hair into a simple French twist to keep it off my face and my smoky eyes have a touch of metallic gold to complement the dress. The red lipstick was Duke’s request. “I’m ready.”
“Then there’s nothing left to do but enjoy Katarina’s last day on earth, may her soul rest in peace, if she had one.”
