“Okay.”
Every muscle in my body winds up, my thoughts spinning, but I still unlock my phone, open the messages, and type.
Sloane
I have it. Can you meet in 3 days? He will be out of town.
Eli
I wanna see it.
I roll my eyes and hold the phone up so Kirill can read it.
“Predictable,” he scoffs, removing the ledger from his jacket pocket.
I take it from him, snap a quick photo, hand it back, and send the picture.
Then we wait. A few seconds pass, then a few more, and the silence stretches long enough to make my nerves crawl. No one else seems rattled by it. I guess they’re used to living with threats hanging over their heads. I’m not.
Kirill’s hand settles on my thigh and gives it a firm squeeze. “You and the boys will go to our safe house tomorrow morning.”
I turn to him. “Wait, why? We won’t be safe here?”
“It’s a precaution. Nothing more.” His thumb moves once against my leg. “My men will go with you and stay there until this is finished. There are already more guards at the property.”
“You’re not coming with us?”
Suddenly, this fear that something will happen to him grips me and doesn’t let go.
“If he sees that I’m not at work, he could get suspicious.”
“Crap. You’re right.” My fingers close around his forearm. “Just promise me you’ll be careful. I hate that I’m putting you at risk because of my mistakes.” My gaze shifts to the others. “All of you. I’m so sorry.”
“Net, dorogaya. Do not apologize.” Konstantin shakes his head. “Whatever you have done, it doesn’t matter. We all have done things to survive.”
Aleksei smirks. “We are used to blood. Don’t worry about us. We will be fine. Your friends, on the other hand? Not so much.”
“They’re definitelynotmy friends.”
“After we take care of them…” Konstantin adds. “We have to have a proper wedding for you both. Emilia and I would be happy to help you plan if you’d like.”
I can barely think about the ceremony tonight, let alone some big celebration after this, but I don’t want to seem rude. “That sounds nice. Thank you.”
Kirill lifts my hand and kisses my knuckles, his eyes searching mine. “Everything is going to be okay. You’ll see.”
I want to believe him. I really do. But the dread won’t let go. It stays there, coiled in my chest, whispering that something is going to go terribly wrong, and all we’ll have left is the shattered pieces of the aftermath.
The gowns arrive not long after his brothers leave, some hanging from a portable rack, others spread across my bed waiting for me to try them on. I just stand there, staring at them like they belong in someone else’s life.
Ivory and lace and silk spill across the comforter in soft, expensive folds, each dress somehow more beautiful than the last.
“There are a few styles here in a few different sizes,” Claudette, the woman from the Ralph Lauren store, says. “Is there one you’re leaning toward so we can start there?”
Two other women stand quietly behind her while I move toward the dress that’s held my attention since the moment they unpacked it.
My fingers skim over the lace, taking in the strapless bodice and the way the skirt flares slightly at the bottom. Even though I have no idea how it’ll look on me, something about it makes me want to see.
“This one.”
