I wondered how many runaway brides had stood at this very window. I wondered if they repeated the pros and cons like I did. I wondered if I was going to be a runaway bride statistic.
The creak of the door signaled its opening. I was expecting Margo Winthrop to come in and tell me it was time. But no, it was Sloane and Sera. “What are you two doing here?”
“Well, you’ve been avoiding us. Silencing our texts and calls.” Sera hurried toward me. “And since you have no older sister, it’s fallen upon me, your eldest girl cousin, to talk you out of this. Or do you want the men to handle it because I can’t guarantee there won’t be blood?”
Despite the threat, I laughed.
“I know Margo runs a tight, secretive ship,” Sera continued. “But it’s not sitting right with us that we couldn’t even throw you a bachelorette party. Tell us what’s wrong? We can get you out of here. Out of the country if necessary.”
I glanced at the door.
“Zio Luca is occupying Margo,” Sera said. “Uncle Paulie is giving the greatest performance of his life to distract Lottie.”
“I’m doing the right thing,” I whispered.
“He’s blackmailing you!” Sloane exclaimed. “Dom suspects it has to do with Davenport and that Viktor guy.”
“Keep your voice down,” I hissed.
Sera grabbed my shoulders, her eyes pleading. “Don’t do this, cuz. Don’t throw your life away to the bratva.”
I laughed. A laugh I’d practiced quite a bit. My cousins and I had only become closer in the past year since my return to New York. They couldn’t read all of my moods yet. Besides, I’d practiced a lot on Kirill. He totally bought my gullibility. I never overdid it. My job as a fixer came in handy. I knew how to pretend or affect a certain persona depending on who I was dealing with—politicians, their aides, or lobbyists.
“I’m not throwing my life away. Kirill is quite a catch.”
“He’s one cold motherfucker,” Sloane said.
“He’s just different, that’s all,” I said. “You’ve seen our pictures online.”
After the lunch date that fateful Sunday, Kirill escorted me to a gala and an art auction. He told me the repatriation of Viktor’s remains to Moscow went smoothly and to Peter’s satisfaction. So, the only thing I had to worry about was going through with the ceremony.
Sera scoffed. “That can easily be faked.”
“Look, I really appreciate the intervention, but it’s unnecessary.”
The door opened to Margo walking in. Following her were Luca and my parents. Mamma’s panic-stricken face almost made me laugh. She really wanted this wedding to happen.
“You two need to return to your seats,” Margo chillingly informed Sera and Sloane. “The wedding march is about to begin.”
When they hesitated, she added, “Do you really think I’m forcing Lucy to marry Kirill?”
“She’s really not,” I said.
Margo glared at Luca. “I don’t appreciate being misled. It isn’t true, is it, that you’re signing up your son for a covenant?”
I gasped and glowered at my uncle. “You’re not serious. He’s only four!”
“Of course not,” Luca said. “Natalya will never forgive me if I go behind her back again, but she’ll want to do more validation of your outfit. It’ll fully depend on how successful this match between Kirill and Lucy will go.”
Oh, my uncle’s subtle warning was a power move.
“Maybe in the future, hmm?” he continued as if he hadn’t delayed Margo so Sera and Sloane could talk to me. “We’ll consider it when Elias is old enough to make his own decision.”
“Fine,” Margo clipped. “Please escort the women back to their seats. We’re running late as it is.”
Luca gave me a speaking glance before offering the crook of his arm to Mamma, and they left with Sera and Sloane, who both also cast me a “we’re ready whenever you are” look.
Before following them, Margo checked her phone. “Kirill is already making his way down the aisle. Don’t take too long.”
