Page 155 of Marrying the Savage

Dmitri’s compliments always came with instructions. Wear this. Stand like that. Smile less. Smile more. Don’t look bored.

Damir just says it and waits.

I look away first. “Thank you.”

His brows lift slightly.

“What?” I snap.

“You said thank you.”

“Don’t make it an event.”

“It may be the first peaceful thing you have said to me.”

“I can take it back.”

“No.”

I go back into the dressing room before he sees me smile.

For a while, it becomes almost normal. That’s dangerous.

Katya brings more clothes. Marina helps with sizes. Nikolai stands near the front like a statue with a gun under his coat. Damir answers a few calls, then puts his phone away when I come out again.

I notice that. I wish I didn’t.

Later, while Marina and Katya are sorting the things I chose, I find Damir near a row of coats. He’s holding a dark green one like he’s deciding whether it deserves to exist.

“You don’t like green?” I ask.

“I like this one.”

“That sounded painful.”

“I am adjusting to your commentary.”

“Wise.”

He hangs the coat back. For a few seconds, neither of us says anything. It’s not awkward exactly. Just quiet.

I don’t know why I ask the next question. Maybe because yesterday I heard too much about Elena and not enough about him from him.

“How old were you when you became Pakhan?”

His eyes shift to mine. “Twenty-five.”

That surprises me. “That young?”

“My father died.”

“In the fire?”

“Yes.”

“And before that? Were you always supposed to take over?”

“No. My older brother was.”