Marina
Idon't think I stop smiling the whole way home, and I don't think my uncle notices a thing.
He won big on the fifth card and all he can do is count his stack of cash and talk about my father's territory struggles.
We really thought the Radin organization was going down, but this alliance means a revival and I can see how they're worried.
Which is exactly what I feel the minute we pull into the drive and I see the large black SUV parked in front of the house.
"Uncle Filipp," I mumble, feeling dread sink in my gut.
He looks up from his phone and follows my gaze. His lips purse and his eyes narrow. "He wasn't supposed to be here tonight," he says, more to himself than to me.
But he is here.
These impromptu meetings between my father and Maksim are getting annoying.
I thought this late at night, I'd come home to peace and quiet and a chance to lie in bed and think about that dreamy man who took interest in me.
But it seems even my father has some scheming left in him.
What Uncle Filipp didn't accomplish by showing me how dangerously fast the Kuzins can rebuild my father plans to tackle by following up with Maksim's charm and sweet talking.
I smooth my hair in the side mirror and scowl at myself as the car stops, but as late as it is, I'm just going to look tired. I wonder if they told Maksim what their plan is and how they dragged me through the fights to show me what we're up against. Maybe it was his idea.
"Are you ready?" Filipp asks, and I scowl at him as the driver opens the door.
"Do I have a choice?" I ask, trying to keep a playful tone.
My father and mother both know how adamantly opposed I am to this arrangement, but they also both know I will do what's best for the family.
My uncle, however, only sees my reluctance, not my willingness.
He thinks my emotions are a mountain to be conquered, that somehow, the only way this marriage goes forward is if I'm fully on board and happy about it.
He can't fathom how I'd hate what I'm doing and do it anyway.
Filipp walks me to the door and we step inside together. My father is in the study with the door open. I can hear his voice talking quietly to Maksim, and both of them sound like old friends talking casually. I can't make out what they're saying, but there's only one reason for the man to be here.
I stop in the hallway and take a breath. Filipp puts his hand in the small of my back and guides me forward.
"There she is." My father stands when I enter the study. He's still wearing his suit and tie, though the tie is loosened, and he doesn't bother to smile when I walk in. Any fondness between us vanished when he made it clear that my marriage to Orlov wasn't a choice but an order.
Maksim rises from the leather armchair near the window and smiles at me, but the smile is shallow, not reaching his eyes.
He's dressed more casually, no tie, a leather jacket open in the front, and faded, torn jeans that better suit a man his age.
He's handsome, but he's no Stepan. That thought makes my body feel like lead as I walk across the room with six eyes locked on me.
"Marina." He takes both of my hands in what should be an intimate gesture, but it's completely impersonal.
He holds me at arm's length and looks at my face, my hair, my coat, as though checking that nothing has been damaged in transit.
These aren't the eyes of a man seeing a woman he finds intoxicating. "You look lovely."
"Thank you, Maksim. I didn't know you'd be visiting tonight.
" The warm blush I felt on my cheeks as Stepan noticed me is distinctly absent now.
Maybe it's because I've heard Maksim's compliments for years, or maybe I never felt that when he looked at me.
My body came alive when Stepan flirted. I liked that feeling.
"Your father and I had some things to discuss. I thought I'd wait and say hello."
He says it as though he's doing me a favor. As though his presence in my home at this hour is a gift I should appreciate. I smile and let him hold my hands for a beat longer, then I ease away and sit on the sofa across from my father's desk.
"How was your evening?" my father asks as he takes his seat again. I hear the undertone in his voice that indicates he's wondering whether their plan worked out or not. It's sort of a delicate transaction taking place right in front of Maksim, about which he has no knowledge.
Yes, it made an impression, but not how he wanted it to. I saw the strength of the Kuzin operation but I also saw a man take notice of me. A man whose good looks rival anything Maksim has, though I doubt his pocketbook is lined quite so nicely as Maksim's.
"Fine," I say. "It was very educational." I rest both of my hands on my knees as Maksim comes to sit beside me. Filipp stands beside my father's desk and the permanent glower etched on his face grows darker. I'm saying the right things but he sees right through me. I couldn’t care less.
"Good." He leans forward, resting his elbows on his desk. "Maksim has been generous enough to come by and discuss the timeline. We've been talking about the details, and I think it's time we bring you into the conversation."
Bring me in? As though this means I actually get some say.
He has informed me more than once that the timetable is about to be moved up, though I haven't heard the details.
I was hoping for my twenty-fifth birthday.
It'd allow me a chance to enjoy a bit of my life before being enslaved to a man who wants to keep me barefoot and pregnant for ten years.
"Of course," I say.
Maksim leans closer, taking my hand. He traces my knuckles with his thumb and smiles at me.
I know he wants this smile to seem warm and affectionate, but this man doesn't have an affectionate bone in his body.
He doesn't even like me. He's eyeing my father’s suppliers and that hefty ten percent payout on all transactions in exchange for his trade routes.
"Marina, your father and I have been talking about the future of our families—the partnership." I used to enjoy the sound of his voice, but lately, it's grating. "And we both feel strongly that the sooner we formalize things, the stronger our position becomes."
"I agree," I say, because that's what I'm supposed to say.
I don't really agree. The Kuzin fight club is rebuilt, yes, but that doesn't mean they're going to be able to force growth that fast in the Radin organization. We have time, more time than these men around me are trying to force me to believe. Maksim wants the money, Papa wants the routes... That means a hasty shot-gun wedding and one very unhappy daughter. But I plaster a smile because if I don’t, I'll hear about it the instant Maksim leaves.
"Now," my father says, turning to Maksim. "We'd like to set a date. I'm thinking three weeks from Saturday. We'll do just a small ceremony, family only, and we can begin integrating operations immediately after."
Three weeks? I almost scoff out loud, but my throat tightens and I feel like someone is choking me.
I don't want to be married in three weeks.
Just the thought makes my heart explode in my chest as adrenaline shoots through me.
Blood rushes to my face, making me hot, and my hands jitter, so I pull away from Maksim.
"Three weeks is too soon." I try to say it as calmly as possible, but it's difficult. This is my entire life, after all, and I should get some say. I'm a grown adult. No one can force me down that aisle without my consent. Can they?
My father's eyes narrow, and if looks could kill, I'd be dead over Filipp's gaze.
Maksim tilts his head and watches me with a flicker of curiosity, as though a painting on his wall has suddenly spoken.
He's not even going to let that anger behind his eyes out when I openly defy their suggestions, but I see it there, taunting me.
"Marina—" my father begins.
"I'm not saying no," I tell him firmly, holding my chin erect despite my roiling emotion.
"I'm saying three weeks doesn't give us enough time to do this properly.
If we rush this, people will talk. They'll say we're desperate, that we had to move fast because we couldn't afford to wait. Is that what you want people to think?"
It's the right argument. I can see it register on both of their faces.
My father's jaw unclenches a fraction, and Maksim's eyebrows lift in reluctant acknowledgment.
In their world, perception matters more than reality, and a rushed wedding sends the wrong message. Besides, I'm not interested in rushing.
Every girl wants a dream wedding, and I only get one shot at this.
Marriage alliances are always fraught with infidelity and other issues due to their nature, but one thing is certain—they're always permanent.
If I'm going to have to bed this weasel and give him heirs while he takes whores and makes me nothing more than an armpiece, I should at the very least get my fairy tale wedding.
"How long will you require?" Maksim asks, and I don't miss the hint of disgust in his eyes. He's not asking because he cares about my wishes. He's still hungry for the payout and the longer we wait, the longer he's tortured by those dollar signs.
"Six months. A late summer wedding." I pause and let myself soften so they see a woman wanting her dream, not a girl dragging her feet. "I've always wanted a summer wedding. The gardens will be in bloom. We can do it at the estate, make it beautiful, invite everyone. Papa, you have to—"
My father is shaking his head. "Six months is too long. Every week we wait is a week we're exposed. Roman Kuzin built an empire back from ashes in nine months. Giving him six more months to establish himself in Radin trade would be foolish."
Maksim holds up a hand. "Sergei."
My father stops and scowls at him, and Filipp has all but left the room.
He stands staring across the room with a glare on his face that's hardened to near stone.
To them, having access to those trade routes means expansion.
Without expansion, we will lose customers who may otherwise buy from the Radins.
I just don't think the Kuzins are going to be able to rally that quickly.
Anton Radin's death shook them, and the chaos that unfolded over the past year nearly wiped them out.
"She has a good point." Maksim uncrosses his legs and leans forward, his elbows on his knees.
"A three-week engagement looks panicked.
And I don't panic." He turns to me and his eyes move over my face cautiously.
He might actually believe me, and he may fear my complete refusal.
It's a wise choice on his part to side with me.
Losing this alliance won't cost him anything, but he stands to lose if the Radin organization prospers too.
"We can begin aligning the business operations now, before the ceremony.
The paperwork can be done immediately, and by the time we walk down the aisle, the integration will already be underway. "
He nods at my father while resting a hand on my knee. "Give her what she wants, Sergei. It costs us nothing and it buys us goodwill... Besides," he says in a saccharine-sweet tone, "my beautiful bride deserves the wedding of her dreams."
My father doesn't look happy, but Maksim has spoken, and in this room, Maksim's word carries more weight than his does.
He glowers at me but he knows keeping Maksim happy and interested in this benefits them both.
It isn't easy to form an alliance between two families in the same enterprise.
Both of them are taking risks, but Maksim's risk is greater—opening his routes to us could cripple him if he's not careful.
But if he's willing to wait and move forward, I'm willing to follow through.
"Fine," my father says. "Six months."
Maksim turns back to me and smiles that handsome, empty smile.
"A summer wedding, Marina. I'll make sure it's everything you want.
" He brings my hand to his lips and presses hollow kisses there.
He's a sweet talker who achieved nothing in this negotiation, but the alliance is still on the table and everyone is at least calm for now.
I take my hand away and stand, smiling at him the same plastic smile he offers me.
"Thank you," I tell him, nodding and bowing at the shoulder.
"Now if you'll excuse me, I am exhausted and famished.
I want to get a snack and go to bed." Maksim stands too, moving closer as if he might kiss me.
I turn my cheek like always and avoid the press of his lips, but this time, the kiss doesn't feel so cold and distant.
This time, it feels like a serpent has slithered its way into my blouse and wrapped its long, slimy body around my chest to squeeze. Maksim backs away, letting me go, and I walk out of the room carrying a heaviness that threatens to suffocate me.
It's one thing to talk about an arranged marriage in some distant future as if it's someone else living a different life.
But the cold reality is, it's not someone else.
It's me, and I'm going to be forced to go through with this.
When we made these plans years ago, I balked immediately, then I warmed to the idea.
As I walk up the hall, I think of all the family dinners where Maksim came and spent time with us.
I used to think he was so handsome, but his good looks fade the more I get to know him.
And the fondness he had for me seemed to diminish too, right about the time I told him I wasn’t interested in having sex with him until we were properly wed.
But now, after the thrill I had tonight flirting with that handsome man, I don't know that I'll ever feel any zing of arousal or attraction to Maksim at all.
I'm pretty sure the idea of being forced into something has ruined the magic of it and my wandering heart wants an adventure before I enter the shackles of marriage.
I just hope Stepan really is as interested in me as he seemed to be tonight. He has my number.
I hope he uses it.