Chapter 12 - Sienna
Twenty minutes later, the women and I—Pyotr in front, security surrounding us—stepped into a boutique in one of the most expensive parts of town.
It felt like another universe with its marble floors gleaming beneath crystal chandeliers, designer handbags and jewelry displayed in glass cases like they were museum pieces.
There wasn't a scrunchie, flip-flops or pajamas in sight. Suddenly, I felt underdressed and wished that I had worn something nicer to blend in.
Within moments of our arrival, the store was cleared, and Mariya insisted it was just for security purposes.
I hadn’t quite processed what being married to a mafia man truly meant…or how danger could be lurking during everyday activities.
“Okay,” Vera said, turning to the group. “We only have a few hours. I say we get everything here.”
“Really, sis?” Kira scoffed. “And what if I don’t find anything?”
“You will,” Vera smirked. “I called ahead. They just got new dresses that aren’t even on display yet. So, ladies, let's get to shopping!”
While the ladies browsed and chatted with the staff, my fingers drifted over the nearest gowns.
The price tags made me feel nauseated, ranging from two hundred fifty thousand to ten million dollars.
Ten million! Were they sewing these with freaking moon dust?
There was no world in which I’d feel comfortable wearing something that expensive.
I’d probably spend the entire night terrified of dirt, rips, or stray drinks.
“See anything you like?” Pyotr asked, appearing at my side.
I scrunched up my nose. “I just don’t see why I need to wear a dress that costs a down payment on a house.”
Pyotr chuckled. “You’re the wife of a Bratva man now. You must look the part, especially at events. You’re a reflection of him, and of us.”
“Right. No pressure,” I muttered.
“No pressure,” he echoed, then, after a short pause, continued, “We’re having a gathering soon…perhaps your father could attend? We’d love to meet him.”
My stomach dropped.
Shit.
“Oh…um, he’s away on business right now,” I smiled weakly.
“What line of work is he in?” Pyotr asked lightly, a small smile on his face. But, even though the smile was there, a part of me felt as though he was digging for information.
“Sales,” I answered quickly. “He’s…always traveling.”
“Ah.” Pyotr nodded slowly. “Perhaps when he returns.”
I forced a smile and nodded.
“Where's your ring?” Pyotr asked, gesturing towards my bare finger.
“Sienna!” Kira called from behind me. “I found the perfect dress for you. It’s going to bring out your eyes. Try it on!”
I sighed inwardly, thankful for the distraction.
It was a simple, stretchy blue gown with long sleeves, a turtleneck, and slits on both sides. A diamond-shaped cut at the front teased cleavage.
The tag read seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars.
“I…I can’t.”
“Why? You don’t like it?” Mariya asked.
“I do, it’s just….” My voice trailed off, staring at the tag.
“Sienna, don’t worry. That dress won’t bankrupt us. Go try it on.”
Kira guided me to the dressing room, and I tried on the dress. When I looked in the mirror, I barely recognized myself. The dress hugged every curve, and for the first time, I felt sexy.
When I stepped out, jaws dropped.
“Sienna,” Katya said, eyes wide. “Is that what you've been hiding under those baggy clothes? You look drop-dead gorgeous.”
“Thank you,” I murmured, shy.
“Someone remind me to carry extra napkins to wipe Avit’s drool when he sees her. I have to get that on camera,” Pyotr grinned.
“I agree,” Vera said. “You should definitely wear that tonight.”
“Sienna, if this IT thing doesn’t work out, you could totally be a model,” Kira teased.
Mariya chuckled. “She’s right. And if you see anything else you like, we’re buying it.”
Next, Mariya helped me pick out shoes, jewelry, and a few pieces of sexy underwear that she insisted on. We’d been shopping for an hour when Pyotr stepped away for a call. When he returned, the warmth in his blue eyes was replaced with coldness.
“That was Lev. We’ve got a problem to handle. Fuck, we might not make the opening. The guards will stay with you, ladies. Artyom’s already booked your rooms at the hotel. When you’re done shopping, head straight there. The kids are on their way. Mariya, you ride with Wexler and Sienna. Got it?”
She nodded.
I watched as Pyotr pulled the guards inside to talk before leaving. Then the women went back to shopping as though nothing happened.
“Aren't you all worried?” I asked, confused, my stomach already turning.
Would Avit be okay? Would the other men?
“We've learned that worrying and working ourselves up isn't going to change what happens to them. You have seen how toned those men are, right?” Katya said. “They train hard for this life. To make it home safely.”
Vera added, “We trust them to come home to us. So, unless we get a call stating that one of the men is in danger, we don’t worry.”
I exhaled deeply and nodded. “I'll try not to worry.”
Over the next hour, the kids arrived, we purchased way more things than we needed, and we headed to the hotel. It was luxurious, something I'd only seen in magazines. Just being in it made me feel…unworthy.
At reception, we were each given keys to our rooms. We showered, slipped into our dresses, then met up in Kira’s room to do hair and makeup.
Once everyone was ready, there was a knock on the door, and Katya went to open it.
Ninel stepped inside with three handsome men, one of whom had his arm wrapped firmly around her waist. The first two buttons of his shirt were undone, and a tattoo curled up his neck, though I couldn’t quite make out the design.
“Sienna! You made it!” Ninel pulled me into a hug.
“I’m glad to be here.”
She stepped back and motioned toward the men who were with her.
“Sienna, this is my husband, Artyom,” she said, resting a hand on his chest. “He’s the leader of the Rykov faction. And these are his brothers—Yegor, his underboss, and Zakhar. Guys, this is Sienna, Avit’s wife.”
I shook each of their hands.
“Ladies,” Artyom said with a charming smile, “you all look incredible. Shall we head to the gallery?”
Mariya linked her arm through mine, and as a group we made our way into the art gallery, security detail trailing behind. The staff greeted us with champagne the moment we stepped in. The gallery buzzed with soft classical music, low murmurs, and the faint scent of lilies.
While Ninel and Artyom mingled, and the other ladies spoke to their brothers, Mariya and I drifted from piece to piece, closely followed by Wexler.
The paintings were stunning, especially Ninel’s.
She was truly gifted. There were also a few small scrap-iron sculptures on pedestals by an artist named Mike.
I never in a million years thought I’d enjoy an art gallery. And yet here I was, actually liking it.
After we walked through the gallery, we rejoined the rest of the group. Avit’s family was undeniably influential; I was surrounded by governors, senators, police commissioners, movie stars, and business tycoons.
Every time someone introduced me as his wife, my anxiety jumped ten percent.
Pyotr’s words echoed in my mind: I was a reflection of Avit and his family.
So I focused on smiling, not tripping in my heels, and gripping my glass tightly so I wouldn’t spill champagne all over my expensive as hell dress.
But two hours in, my nerves were shot. It was a never-ending line of faces wanting to chat, shake hands, congratulate me, and ask questions. I felt myself fraying at the edges, constantly worrying if I was good enough, if people saw me as a proper wife for Avit, if I was making a decent impression.
“Mrs. Safin, are you okay?” Wexler asked quietly beside me.
I inhaled deeply. This was my life, for now. I had to handle it with grace. I turned to him. “I—I…” I squeezed my eyes shut, then opened them and offered a weak smile. “I’ll be okay.”
Behind Wexler, the entrance of the gallery opened.
Lev entered, followed by the rest of the Safin men, and an electric shock ran over my body.
It was as though the air shifted, and I noticed it didn’t only affect me.
Men stood straighter, and women subtly fixed their hair and flashed charming smiles.
When Avit stepped through the door last, our eyes locked.
He wore black pants and a jacket with silver intricate swirls on its black fabric. The sides of his hair were slicked back, but the top was slightly tousled, a few curls kissing his forehead. He also wore black and silver-rimmed glasses to complete the look.
He looked absolutely mouthwatering.
My nipples hardened, my pussy pulsed, and my face reddened.
Wexler went to Avit and spoke to him softly. Avit’s eyes narrowed. I turned away, gulped the rest of my drink, and placed the empty glass on a server’s tray as they passed.
As Lev and the others kissed their wives softly, then shook the hands of the Rykov brothers, an arm slid around my waist, turning me gently.
“Sienna, are you okay? Do you need to get away for a bit?” Avit asked softly.
Why was he acting like he cared when I was nothing more than a placeholder?
“I’m okay.”
He stroked my cheek. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah.”
Avit’s hand stayed on my waist as he turned to the others. The longer it stayed, the more I longed to lean into him.
“Avit, loving the look,” Ninel grinned. “It suits you.”
“And being an art gallery owner suits you, sis. I’m proud of you.” He gave my waist a small squeeze, then went to hug her like the others before returning to my side, his hand on my waist again.
I didn’t know if that was a blessing, because I needed time to recharge before talking to strangers, or a curse, because the longer he stayed beside me, the harder it became to pull my attention away from him. I watched them laugh and tease each other, the way the men doted on the women.
Fifteen minutes later, Lev and the other men drifted off to mingle, leaving the women in a small circle chatting amongst themselves.