5
Preparing the bride
The Anantara Villa Padierna Palace Resort was locate between Marbella, Benahavís and Estepona.
Set apart from the crowds, it was a perfect and elegant sanctuary featuring three golf courses—my future father-in-law was an enthusiast—a tranquil lake, a Roman amphitheater, and over twelve hundred original artworks. We were staying in one of the two-bedroom villas with my mother and sisters.
When I crossed the threshold and stepped onto the living room floor, covered with black and white tiles mimicking a chessboard, my mother was horrified.
”Nikita Koroleva! How dare you arrive just an hour and a half before your wedding?!”
”Good morning to you too, mother,” I said with a sarcastic undertone. She hated when I called her that; she said it made her feel old.
The truth was, she looked fabulous. She was forty-nine years old, though she didn”t look a day over forty. The fortune she spent on cosmetic treatments and her meticulous self-care had seemingly frozen her in time. She looked more like my older sister than my mother.
”For heaven”s sake! You stink and your skin looks worse than my heels after that trip to the Sahara!”
”I love you too,” I murmured, heading straight for the bar to pour myself one last drink.
”Stop! Don’t you dare drink any more! You need to be able to walk in a straight line to the altar, and as far as I know, the path to the amphitheater is riddled with steps.” My mother positioned herself between me and the drinks. I huffed.
”Well, you should have chosen option three, a wedding in one of the halls.”
”There were stairs there too! What are you wearing?” she pointed at my outfit with disgust.
”The same thing as last night. If you hadn’t been so busy dining with your future father-in-law, you would have noticed. The name of the outfit is ”tonight you get lucky,” you should try it on,” I said, twirling around.
”As soon as you take it off, I plan to burn it. That cannot be called clothing in any way. And by the way, you should have been at that dinner instead of running off with your sisters to God knows where! You stood up your fiancé! You don’t even know what he looks like!” she scolded, pouting.
”Does it matter? I’ll be sick of seeing his face in the coming months. It was my last night as a single woman, I had to make the most of it...”
I scanned the sober room, decorated with classic furniture in dark wood, and opened the doors leading to the private pool to let some air in.
”Turning yourself into a harlot?” she questioned with disgust. My mother”s barbs were particularly venomous.
”It”s called being free and sleeping with whoever you damn well please, mother, though you, of all people, have a master”s in that.”
”I just hope your future husband doesn”t find out. You need to learn to be discreet.” She moved her hands nervously.
”Like you?”
It was no secret that my mother hadn’t married for love. She married my father to secure a good life. Her best asset was her appearance, and when the promising *Vor v zakone*, Vladimir Korolev, set his eyes on her, she made her own father agree to sell her after losing a bet he couldn”t pay.
My mother was always a woman who knew how to achieve her goals. It was even rumored that Putin”s bedroom was not unfamiliar to her.
”Are you going to tell me that you”re marrying that Italian whom you don’t even know for love?”
My mother and sisters had asked me why I had agreed to marry the man my father detested. I could hide from them that we were nearly in ruins, but not the reason why I was going to give a bizarre ”I do.”
”You know that’s not the case. I’m a businesswoman, I don’t believe in love beyond family. The marriage to Capuleto will bring us a lot of wealth, comfort, and will silence many mouths. I need his resources to find out what’s happening with Mentium.”
My mother stood by my side, both of us lost in the view over the pool water.
”Deep down, you’re not so different from me. We’re more alike than you’re willing to admit, even if it irritates you.” She smiled.
In that, she was right. It wasn”t just about the physical anymore. My mother was capable of selling her soul to the devil for what she believed was best for herself or her children, and so was I. I remained silent.
”You”ve wasted enough time, go take a shower, Nikita. Your sisters are already doing their hair and makeup.”
I wasn”t going to contradict her, time was not on my side, it was my desire to remain free that stopped my feet from moving, though I eventually gave in. I had chosen my fate, now was not the time to back out.
My last thought took me back to a warehouse and a handsome face covered by a wild beard, wishing me luck. Maybe I”d visit him sooner than I thought.
”You look beautiful!” Irisha and Sarka exclaimed in unison.
I sought my reflection in the glass, the dress was my mother’s choice, who insisted I should dress like a princess, as Italians were very pompous.
The design looked lavish. The fabric shone on its own like a million incandescent stars, it had no lace or gems, it didn’t need them.
The neckline was a V-shape, perfectly molding to my medium-sized breasts. The waist was accentuated and the skirt was opulent. Not for nothing, the model was called ”Essence of a Royal Wedding” by Ze Garcia.
The hairstylist added some extensions to give me wavy hair. I wore it down. At the top of my head, they secured a veil that fell below my buttocks and was made of soft tulle.
I requested makeup as I usually wore it. Mascara and black eyeliner, a bit of blush on my cheeks, and my unmistakable red lips.
My mother insisted on a softer lip shade, but I refused, that was my signature, and I wasn’t giving it up.
I wore no jewelry; the sparkle of the dress and the gems crowning the veil were enough.
”How are we doing for time?” I asked Sarka, who was holding her phone. She looked gorgeous in a youthful salmon-colored dress.
”You”re five minutes away from being half an hour late.” I clicked my tongue.
”I told you, mom, I was fine.” My mother rolled her eyes. ”Any bride worth her salt has to be a little late,” I retorted proudly.
My mother looked very elegant in a pearl grey suit that flattered her features.
”It”s true, there’s an unwritten code about that. Some brides even arrive an hour late,” Irisha corroborated. I winked at my sister.
”Let’s not go overboard…” my mother warned with a cautionary tone.
”Let”s toast to the best day of our lives, serve us all some vodka, Iri,” I asked my sister, who quickly got to work.
”No alcohol until you have the ring on your finger. If you want to drink like a Cossack afterwards, that’s your problem,” my mother scolded. ”We can”t waste more time, Massimo sent me a message five minutes ago asking if everything was alright.”
”Have you already given him your number? Everyone”s in a hurry here...” I remarked with displeasure.
”We had to communicate somehow. And stop making those faces, from today you”ll be living in Marbella and they”re going to become part of our family.” ”For a short time,” I thought.
My mother approached me, took my hands, and smiled.
”You”re beautiful, you remind me of myself on my wedding day, though my dress wasn”t as shiny.” We both smiled. I couldn’t hold anything against her, my mother always loved us and was good to us. ”I’m sure your father, uncle Luka, and your brother are proud of you from up there. They”re going to protect you and look after you, I”m convinced.”
”I don”t need any man to protect me, mom, I was taught by the best.”
I looked up and blew a kiss to the three of them, with the implicit promise that I would avenge the harm done to us.