Pathetic.
Slowly, my breathing steadies. The nausea fades enough for me to think.
And once I think clearly, one thing becomes obvious.
I cannot marry him.
I physically cannot walk down those stairs and stand beside him pretending none of this happened. I can’t spend the rest of my life wondering how many other women there are. I can’t wake up every morning beside a man who looked me in the face while betraying me for months.
And worse?—
I can’t survive the humiliation.
Not in our world.
Everyone will know eventually. Men always talk. Women always know before the wives do. I’ll become one of those polished mafia wives who pretend not to notice lipstick on collars and strange perfume in bedrooms.
No.
Something hardens quietly inside me. I wipe my mouth with trembling fingers and stand slowly. My wedding veil hangs halfway off my head. My mascara has started to smudge beneath my eyes. The perfect bride in the mirror from earlier is gone.
Good.
I suddenly hate her too.
I look back toward the estate. Toward the guests. Toward the life waiting for me inside.
Then I turn away from all of it.
And I decide to run.
6
YAROMIR
“Boy,do I have some news for you.”
I look up from my desk. Alexei is standing in the doorway of my study, one shoulder pressed against the frame, looking far too pleased with himself for a man who was not invited in.
“What?”
He grins. “Your brother’s bride has run away from her wedding.”
For a moment, I say nothing.
The pen stills in my hand.
Outside the tall windows, the city is gray under afternoon rain, but inside the room everything suddenly comes into vision. The fire. The glass of whiskey near my elbow. The contract open in front of me that I have not read for the last twenty minutes.
Because beside it, half-hidden under a folder, is a sketch.
A woman’s face. Blonde hair. Wide eyes. Soft mouth.
Anya Sokolova.
I close the folder over it before Alexei gets any closer. He notices anyway. Of course he does. His eyes flick down, then back up to my face, amusement already forming.
I give him a look that tells him not to ask.
