Chapter 47
Chapter
Forty-Seven
KAYLANI
Julian was waiting to take my arm when my father and I stepped out of the bathroom. To anyone watching, he was the adoring fiancé. But the scowl only I could see said otherwise.
I looped my hand through the crook of his elbow, and he immediately placed his other hand over mine. It felt like a bear trap locking me in place. The harshness of his features faded as he turned toward the crowd.
Whether I wanted to or not, I was about to be paraded around the room like a show dog.
White linen covered every table, and tall crystal vases overflowed with deep red roses. The servers buzzed around the room like bees. Candles flickered in hurricane glass, their flames bending in the stiff ocean breeze. The scent of rosemary, grilled citrus, and pretension thickened with each step.
I was adrift in a sea of strangers, but they had to be important. Julian’s family wouldn’t have invited anyone without vast wealth, political influence, or business savvy.
With my newly acquired hypersensitivity to smells, I felt like a superhero with a twitchy stomach. Every scent hit me in layers. Butter and wine. Salt and sand. The heavy sweetness of roses and lilies. Fine herbs mingled with roasting meat.
The live quartet played something slow and elegant, but every note felt strained, as if the musicians were trying to hide the tension in the room. When this many people gathered, grudges were always present.
This felt more like a wedding reception than a simple celebration. I quickly searched the crowd to ensure no priest was hidden among the guests.
Julian never slowed, greeting only those he deemed worthy as he guided us to the head table where his family waited. When we reached our seats, Julian finally loosened his death grip on my hand and lifted his glass of wine.
The music cut off, and the room went quiet.
“Friends,” Julian said smoothly, his voice carrying easily across the crowd. “Thank you for joining us tonight. It means more than you know to see so many familiar faces gathered here in celebration.”
He glanced around and nodded to a few people before continuing.
“Tonight is not only about business partnerships or alliances. It’s about joining two families who carry a legacy of strength, perseverance, and honor.”
His gaze found mine, holding it long enough for the room to notice. He was aiming for deeply in love, but I saw through the performance.
“It is my privilege to formally introduce Kaylani Mikhailov, daughter of Dimitri Mikhailov, as my betrothed.”
A ripple of applause spread through the guests.
“Kaylani has been a breath of fresh air. She is strong, intelligent, and every bit the force you would expect from her bloodline. I consider myself fortunate she has agreed to stand beside me as we build our future together.”
He raised his glass higher, and everyone followed.
“To my beautiful bride-to-be, and to the power we will wield together.”
The room echoed his words.
“To the bride.”
My stomach flipped and churned while I smiled for the benefit of the crowd. Unable to take it any longer, I glanced out at the million-dollar yachts moored in the marina.
Once the congratulatory clapping died down, we took our seats.
Julian basked in the attention we garnered. His designer black suit, flashy watch, and that flawless white smile were built for an audience.
My father sat beside Arturo. They were very alike in their stoicism. Their calm demeanors didn’t come from peace. It came from the certainty of knowing they were the apex predators in the room.
Julian was speaking with Arturo when Adriano dropped into the seat beside me.
“Sorry, I was detained,” he said, wiping a smudge of lipstick from the corner of his mouth.
“I can see that.”
I picked at my salad, not really hungry despite it looking delicious.
He leaned a little closer.
“Are you jealous,” he asked, lowering his voice to a whisper against my ear.
I paused with my fork mid-air.
“And why would I be jealous?”
Sheer will alone kept me planted in my seat as his hand drifted onto my thigh.
“I’m a lover of all things beautiful, and you, Kaylani, are like an exquisite flower just waiting to be plucked by the right man.”
I brought my fork down, just hard enough to send a clear warning.
Adriano froze. Shock written all over his face. It was obvious he had never been told no. He was about to learn a very valuable lesson.
“This flower has thorns. You seem to have me confused with a common whore who would welcome your uninvited advances. Now, you have exactly three seconds to remember who you’re touching. After that, my silverware will be the least of your problems.”
He gave me a small nod, and I lifted the utensil. Adriano immediately withdrew his hand, rubbing where I had pressed the tines into his skin.
“I have to tell you that was terrifying, and yet, I’m extremely turned on.”
He stood and left before I could change my mind and stab him anyway.
After the first course was cleared, Julian’s brothers circulated among the guests with practiced grace. Each one a distinct kind of threat.
Matteo floated between groups, grinning as he shook hands, and charming enough to convince strangers he was harmless. He made introductions as if he were hosting a charity gala.
Adriano laughed too easily. Too loudly. His eyes lingered on women’s mouths when they spoke, already imagining how to silence them with his dick. He needed an ice pack permanently strapped to him.
But Luca…
Luca didn’t pretend.
He leaned against the bar, arms crossed, eyes scanning the room in slow, controlled sweeps. He spoke only when necessary, barely moving, but his gaze kept returning to me like I was an unaccounted for variable. It was obvious he didn’t like me.
Julian’s arm rested on the back of my chair, forcing me to sit forward in my seat so we didn’t touch. His possessiveness made my skin crawl, but his poise made it look like affection.
The staff moved like ghosts. Plates appeared and vanished. Forks clinked against porcelain as the main course was delivered. A server set down a new bottle of wine near me. The aroma hit immediately. Rich with a hint of oak and a faint bitter edge of fermented grapes.
I didn’t drink, and I barely touched my food.
The night and its purpose had stolen my appetite. I had attended parties like this as a guest, but now I couldn’t help wondering how many of the women I had laughed with were just as miserable as I was on the inside.
Arturo stood in the middle of the room, tapping sharply on his champagne flute just as dessert was served. The chatter quieted instantly.
Great, another toast.
The light glinted off the massive rings on his fingers. His expression was smooth and congenial, but the warmth never reached his eyes. Arturo was the type of man who could bless you even as he ordered your death.
“To family. Not the kind you are born into by accident, but the kind you choose and build. The kind you defend.”
The guests murmured their approval. I glanced at my father, but his posture remained unyielding. Arturo continued.
“Tonight marks a union that strengthens the bonds between the Mikhailovs and Harringtons. Let the world remember what our two great families stand for…loyalty, above all else.”
That sounded distinctly threatening. I felt Luca’s eyes on me again, but I ignored him.
Arturo raised his glass higher.
“To the future. May it be secured swiftly and without hesitation.”
Without hesitation?
A knot settled in my stomach. This didn’t feel like a toast. It seemed more like a directive.
The candle flames flickered in the breeze, and I raised my water glass, fingers steady even though my pulse beat too hard.
Arturo’s gaze landed on me, sharp and heavy, like a gun pressed to my head. Music and conversations erupted once more.
Isadora approached us, moving with a graceful ease.
“Hello, my dear. I’m sorry, this is the first chance I’ve had to speak to you this evening.”
I stood to greet her properly. It was a real pet peeve of mine when people hovered over my shoulder.
“It has been a busy evening. There is no need for an apology.” I took in her black-and-gold dress. “You look stunning.”
“Thank you. I had it custom-made for the occasion. Oh, I cannot wait to see your reaction to your wedding dress. I had it fashioned in Paris for you.”
“I’m sure it will be beautiful,” I said, trying not to cringe.
“I was so worried you would be upset that I took over all the preparations.”
That was just the opening I needed. I let my smile fall.
“I don’t mind, but I can’t lie and say that I don’t wish my mother were here. I had always envisioned the two of us planning my wedding.”
Isadora grasped my hands firmly.
“Oh my goodness. I was unaware that your mother was alive.”
“I’m sorry, what? What do you mean?”
Panic filled me. Had something horrible happened to my mother?
“Well, Dimitri never mentioned her and…well…the one time he came to visit, he—”
Her unspoken words were clear as day. My father had a litany of mistresses who traveled with him. I was surprised he hadn’t dragged one along with us on the flight. Then again, he probably knew I would have thrown her off the plane without a parachute.
I had only learned of these women just before leaving Mikhailov Enterprises to work for Nathaniel. Even though the job had been what enticed me, the knowledge certainly helped the decision-making process.
“I understand, and I’m aware. But yes, my mother is alive, and we have a wonderful relationship. Do you think you could inquire about her being allowed to attend? Her name is Helena Mikhailov.”
Isadora glanced around the room and then at Julian, who was laughing with a small group of men.
“I will see what I can do.” She squeezed my hand, her face growing serious. “If you are good to Julian, he will lavish you with all you could ever desire. But he can be spiteful if you are not.”
With that veiled warning ringing in my ears, I watched as Isadora turned and walked away. Head held high, she was the embodiment of authority and refinement.
The temptation to put space between me and everyone in this room was too great. The air felt too warm. The candles were too bright. The laughter was too sharp. The roses were too red. And the claustrophobic sensation, suffocating. It wasn’t the walls. It was the eyes. Every laugh felt like a blade.
I went out onto the balcony overlooking the dark sea and gripped the stone railing.
“There you are,” Julian said as he joined me.
I didn’t respond even when he placed his hand on the small of my back. The ebb and flow of the waves was hypnotic, and I was unsure of how much time had passed.
“I thought you’d run off.”
There was an edge to his tone that set off alarm bells. His thumb traced up my spine as he brushed tendrils of hair away from the side of my face. Not tenderness. Ownership.
“If I were going to run, I’d already be gone.”
“Is that so?”
“It is.”
He encroached further, his body pressing against mine, bringing on a wave of nausea.
“You seem so certain. What do you know that I don’t?”
“Only that you underestimate my resolve once I set my mind to something.”
He shifted, caging me in with his arms, trapping me.
Julian’s lips grazed my neck, and I went stiff as a board. He pushed into me hard enough that if the stone gave way we would both fall into the darkness below. I gripped the railing so that I didn’t claw him to death and cause a scene.
“I like you scared,” he whispered.
“I’m not.”
He chuckled.
“Your body tells me otherwise.”
That made me laugh.
“You don’t know anything about my body.”
“Oh…then tell me.”
“You mistake repulsion for fear.”
With a growl, he whipped me around and grabbed my throat. He shoved me back until I was bent partially over the railing. The waves crashed against the rocks below like an invitation to be sacrificed.
My survival instincts kicked in, and I latched onto his arm. If I went over, this asshole was coming with me.
“You will learn respect,” Julian snarled. “I don’t care whose daughter you are. You’re replaceable. Remember that.”
He yanked me forward and released me. I stumbled while gasping and coughing as I tried to catch my breath.
“My respect…will never be earned…through violence. But it’s not respect you’re after, you want obedience.”
“Call it whatever you like. Learn it before our wedding night.”
He straightened his suit and had just started to walk away when all hell broke loose.