Chapter 18 - Gela
I step out of the shower and into my bedroom, wrapped in a towel, and the blast of the AC immediately makes me feel cold. I shiver and get on my toes, dashing across to my closet to get into dry clothes.
Once done, I head to my dresser for the blow-dryer when I hear my phone chime with a text. When I look down, my heart lurches with a mix of feelings—anger, fear, and anticipation.
It’s been four days since our fight, and this is the first text Valentin's sent me. He’s gone off to work before I wake, and returns after I’m in bed.
I keep telling myself I don’t care about the cold shoulder he’s been giving me, not one bit, but my hands shake as I reach for my phone.
The truth is, he was way out of line that night, and even though I didn’t give him time to explain, he’s had enough time between then and now to apologize for the way he shut down my plans for the future.
Right?
Was he right? Was I? Were we both wrong? Was it a miscommunication? I shake my head, telling myself to stop thinking about it.
I open the message: Gela, there’s an annual charity gala tonight hosted at the Meridian Hotel by the Smirnovs. It’s good for the whole family to be present. The event starts at 8 PM.
For a second there, I glower at his audacity.
I don’t see any “please,” “thank you,” or “would you please do this huge favor.” Just who does he think he is?
I have half a mind to text back, giving him a solid no for an answer, but then the selfish part of me remembers how tough the past four days have been.
When I’m alone, my mind keeps reliving our fight, and honestly, going out might help clear my head.
I text him back: Fine.
He doesn’t reply.
I toss the phone onto my bed and pull open my closet door with more force than necessary. What does one wear to a Bratva charity event, anyway? Black, probably. Everything in this family is black.
I stare at my clothes, but nothing seems right for whatever this gala is. And if I'm being honest with myself, I want to look good tonight. I tell myself it’s for me, and not for Valentin, but even then, the idea of making him eat his heart out fills me with an odd satisfaction.
And that satisfaction drops a sliver of the truth right into my stomach. I miss him and his stupid smirk and the way his eyes crinkle. I even miss our arguments, because at least then, he was talking to me.
Stop it, Gela. I shake my head clear. I’m just bored and mistaking it for something else.
Suddenly, the idea of spending the rest of the day alone feels terribly harrowing. I grab my phone again, and before I can talk myself out of it, I call Nadya.
“Gela!” Her voice is cheery as hell, like she’s genuinely glad to hear from me. “How’s it going?”
“Hey.” I try to sound casual, remembering that I’m talking to Valentin’s sister, for god’s sake. “I just got a text about some gala tonight? At the Meridian?”
“Oh god, did Val just text you that today? That man is so last-minute, I swear...” She sighs dramatically. “Yeah, it’s an annual charity thing. Big donors, fancy dresses, boring speeches. Hold on—I'm adding Darya.”
There's a click, and then Darya's voice joins the call. “Hello?”
“Darya! It's Gela and me. She’s coming to the Gala tonight!”
“Oh my god, you are? How exciting!” Darya squeals.
I grin at their infectious enthusiasm and no longer feel so alone.
“I am,” I say. “But the thing is, I have nothing appropriate for this literally. I was wondering if you girls would like to go shopping?”
“YES!” Darya squeals so loudly I have to pull the phone away from my ear. “Shopping trip! Let's meet at Luxe on Michigan Avenue in an hour. They have everything.”
“Uh…isn’t that place kind of expensive?” I ask, already mentally calculating how much I can afford to spend. With my new clients, I have some wiggle room, but not Yuri-level wiggle room.
“Don't even think about the price,” Darya says. “We have tabs running at all the good boutiques, and Valentin will get it.”
“I can't let him do that!” I feel mortified by the suggestion, even.
“You can and you will! You’re his wife, for god’s sake. And you’re only going to this event because he asked, right?” Nadya interrupts.
“I guess…” I’m half-convinced. Nadya does put forth a solid argument.
“Besides, it'll drive Val crazy when he sees you in a sexy little item!”
The thought of Valentin's eyes falling out of his head sends a little thrill through me that I immediately try to squash, but it’s enough to convince me. “Fine,” I say, “but nothing too over the top.”
“Oh, honey,” Darya says, “you clearly don't know us very well yet. See you in an hour!”
The call ends, and I find myself smiling for the first time in days. I already feel like today might just be tons of fun.
***
After three hours of shopping, we finally found the dress. It’s perfect, and not to mention, the only one Nadya and Darya have claimed to love so far.
I smooth out the green silk over the curves of my ass and turn to the mirror, watching it hug every curve. The halter is tied tight behind my neck, and the cut in front is low, but thin, making it classy and sexy at the same time.
“I love that leg slit,” Nadya whistles from where she sits on the couch.
“And your back looks gorgeous,” Darya adds.
“Yeah?” I turn to them. “So you think I should get this?”
“A hundred percent. Val is going to lose his mind,” Nadya says, jumping off the couch to circle me as I stand on a small platform in the private fitting room.
“That's not the goal,” I protest weakly.
“Oh come on!” Nadya laughs. “We know how obsessed you are with each other!”
“Obsessed? That’s a strong word.” I quirk an eyebrow at her.
“We aren’t blind, you know? We’ve noticed how you circle each other like hungry wolves. So madly in love,” she sighs.
My head snaps up, and my heart begins to stammer. “Love? Well, our marriage isn’t exactly like that, you know?”
“We’re aware of the details,” Darya says, gently. “But we can see beyond that.”
Both sisters exchange a look that makes me want to crawl under the plush carpet.
“It's written all over your face whenever someone mentions his name,” Darya adds, trying to be helpful.
“That's ridiculous,” I argue, but my cheeks flame red. “We had a huge fight yesterday, anyway, and I’m not really in the mood to impress him, let alone even speak to him.”
“Every couple fights.” Nadya shakes her head knowingly. “But why don’t you tell us what happened?”
I recall the details of our fight, but it seems way too personal to divulge. Even if I’m mad at Valentin, I realize I don’t want to badmouth him to his sisters.
“It doesn’t matter,” I whisper. “He was way out of line.”
“I’m sure my brother was unreasonable,” Darya offers kindly. “He’s terrible with words. But you should know that his actions speak volumes.”
The words hit me like a punch to the gut, and I don't have a response. They must see the confusion on my face.
“Listen.” Darya stands in front of me, taking my hands in hers. “You don't have to figure everything out today. But maybe don't close doors on him before you've properly spoken to him, you know?”
I nod, not trusting my voice.
“Now.” She stands, clapping her hands together, “Why don't you come to my place after this? We can all get ready together and do our hair and makeup. It'll be fun, and you won't have to sit alone in that big house thinking about my brother.”
The offer is so tempting that I almost say yes immediately, but manners make me hesitate. “I don't want to impose...”
“Impose?” Nadya laughs. “We're sisters now, remember? Family doesn't impose.”
My own family’s so far away, and I've been alone for so long that I've forgotten what it feels like to belong somewhere. Just the fact that they’re being so warm, so kind, so open, makes me want to lean into the support they’re offering me.
“Okay.” I break out into a smile. “Let's do it.”
***
The Meridian Hotel's grand ballroom is a sight to behold. This might just be the most beautiful party I’ve ever attended.
Forget how well-dressed the crowd is, or how expensive the diamonds on the Bratva wives are.
I’m blown away by the chandeliers, the live orchestra, the hundreds of thousands of flowers, and the dozens of ice sculptures.
Even the air in here smells like a million bucks.
Nadya hands me a glass of champagne.
“It’s quite something, isn’t it?” she asks.
“It’s beautiful!”
I turn to the sisters and am once again struck by how stunning they both look. Darya’s in classic black and Nadya’s in a bold red.
And I feel more than a fair share of eyes on us three, on the emerald silk hugging my curves.
“Remember,” Nadya whispers, “be careful who you speak to, and what you say. This is neutral territory, but you’re a Yuri wife now, and the vultures will come circling.”
“Uh-huh.” I listen carefully, my eyes sweeping over the room. The entire Yuri clan is here, but I don’t see Valentin.
My heart sinks, and I try not to let my disappointment show. Of course, he made me come, but decided the rules don’t apply to him. He's probably avoiding me, just like he's been doing for days.
“Is he... is Valentin coming?” I finally ask Darya, desperate to know what his deal is.
She gives me a knowing look. “Oh, he's already here. Look toward the far wall, by the painting of the old man on a horse.”
I follow her gaze, and my breath catches.
He’s standing there, deep in conversation with an elderly gentleman.
Even though there’s nothing spectacular about the scene in itself, I find myself transfixed by how handsome Valentin looks.
From across the room, I can see the slight silver in his black hair, bouncing off the light.
A curve of a strand falls over his forehead, toward the left, and that suit… god, that suit.
It looks like it was stitched on him, not for him.
Just then, he loses focus on the conversation, and his eyes reach right for where we stand. Like he knew we’ve been standing here.
And then they land straight on me.