For once, he has enough sense to obey.
“What happened?” I ask.
Alexei drops into the chair opposite me. “No one knows the full story yet. The guests were seated, music was playing, flowers everywhere, very tasteful, very dramatic. Then the bride vanished.”
“Vanished.”
“Gone. Dress, veil, everything. Dmitri is apparently losing his mind.”
That gives me a moment of satisfaction so savage I almost smile.
I picture Dmitri standing there in his wedding suit, embarrassed in front of half the families, forced to explain why the pretty little bride he thought he already owned decided not to walk down the aisle.
Good.
Let him feel what it is to be made small in public.
Let him choke on it.
Alexei watches me carefully. “You look devastated.”
“I’m managing.”
“Yes, heroically.”
I lean back in my chair, forcing my face into something neutral. “Why did she run?”
“That’s the part nobody knows. Or nobody is saying.” He pauses. “But there are rumors.”
“What rumors?”
“The official story is that she felt unwell.”
I almost laugh. “That’s terrible.”
“That’s Galina’s version. Your father’s people are saying she had a panic attack.”
“And the real rumor?”
Alexei shrugs. “That Dmitri did something.”
Of course he did.
I look toward the rain-dark windows. “Cheating, probably.”
Alexei raises a brow. “You sound certain.”
“Dmitri is a womanizer. He has been one since he learned women found the Volkov name attractive.”
Dmitri has been seen in my clubs too many times for me to pretend otherwise. Private rooms. Too much liquor. Girls who laugh at everything he says because he tips well and leaves his card behind like a prince blessing peasants.
I don’t throw him out because he always runs the tab high enough to make his presence tolerable. That, and because watching him embarrass himself has become a mild form of entertainment.
Still, there’s a difference between being reckless in a club and being stupid on your wedding day.
Then again, this is Dmitri.
Alexei studies me. “You think she caught him?”
