Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
Briony
The deep blue swimsuit clung to my body.
It didn't show much, but the way it hugged my waist and hips was deliberate—every curve I wanted to hide, perfectly outlined. The crystal necklace hung against my chest, the honey-brown pendant swaying gently with each breath. This was hands down the most special gift I'd ever received.
I thought I could handle Varlam's gaze. After all, I'd already worn it for him at the office.
But standing in front of him now, I realized this was different. He just stood there, silver hair slightly wind-tousled, eyes sweeping from my shoulders to my waist and hips, and my skin felt like his hands were slowly tracing over it.
"Let's go." He tilted his head, gesturing for me to follow, then turned toward the deck.
I obeyed immediately.
Today he wore only a black tank top and dark shorts. The tank outlined his broad shoulders and tight waist, the shorts making his long legs look even more powerful. He looked casual, relaxed, but the intimidating presence hadn't diminished one bit.
Damn. When did I realize a man dressed like this could make my throat go dry?
Varlam suddenly looked back. I didn't have time to look away—caught his eyes dead-on.
"You don't need to know anyone." He extended his hand toward me.
"I'm your assistant." I placed my hand in his palm, trying to make it sound like a reminder rather than a question.
His fingers closed around mine, steady, helping me over the last few steps. Controlled, but it made my palm burn.
"You're not here to work today."
"Then what am I here for?"
He didn't answer right away, just reached up and brushed away a strand of hair the sea breeze had blown across my face.
"Be yourself." His tone was calm, like he was stating the simplest thing in the world. "You don't need to make small talk with anyone or please anyone. Eat what you want, go where you want. Enjoy the party."
I nodded, half-understanding.
This sounded like a date. At least, what I understood a date to be. Especially since he'd personally picked out the swimsuit and necklace.
At the last party, he'd told everyone in front of them that I was his woman. This time, he hadn't given me a clear identity, but told me I didn't need to please anyone.
I wasn't here to get hurt today.
And honestly, the yacht in front of me didn't leave much room for overthinking.
It was too big to be a boat. The snow-white hull rose in several levels, gleaming in the sunlight like a dreamlike floating building.
Uniformed servers glided past with champagne, music flowing from invisible speakers.
Everything here cost money—even the air seemed more expensive than on the other side of the dock.
First time I'd learned that rich people's parties didn't need any clear purpose. They drank, sunbathed, exchanged a few glances, and decided on deals regular people wouldn't encounter in several lifetimes. And I didn't even know where to put my hands.
The crystal pressed against my skin. I touched the pendant, pushing down that unease again. Varlam gave this to me. I didn't crash this party.
"Follow me," he said.
I walked in his footsteps. The central staircase led to the upper flybridge. Several older men sat there, and the man in the wheelchair at the center somehow towered over everyone around him in presence. Similar to the aura Varlam carried.
They weren't speaking loudly, but no one dared approach them. As if everyone knew—say the wrong thing and pay the price. I instinctively slowed my steps.
Varlam glanced up toward the top level. The man in the wheelchair saw him too, raised his hand in a light greeting.
Varlam nodded back. Then he let go of my hand. My palm suddenly empty. Before I could ask where he was going, I saw the woman already standing on the stairs. Brinny.
She wore a white bikini, flaxen-gold hair pulled into a sleek high ponytail. Already slender, her exposed skin gleamed almost white in the sunlight. The boat was clearly rocking, but she stood as steady as if on her own floor.
This was her familiar territory. She didn't even need to watch her step.
"You're finally here!" Brinny looked at Varlam.
Varlam walked straight toward her. She naturally hooked her arm through his, leaning into him, laughing as she said something. When Varlam heard it, his expression softened. He replied to her.
The two walked side by side up to the flybridge. I stood there, like someone had dumped ice water over my head.
I thought I was his date. I thought it was just the two of us, no Brinny. I'd even practiced—if someone asked about our relationship, how I'd answer without seeming too eager. But now I finally knew. I didn't need to answer. No one would ask.
His date was already waiting for him on the stairs, and I was just the assistant he brought along to see how the other half lived.
Someone at the swim platform at the stern suddenly waved at me. Several young women sat there. They all had impossibly beautiful long legs, eyes bright as glass beads in the sunlight. One of them patted the chair next to her, saying something in Russian.
I didn't understand a word. But her smile was friendly enough. I walked over and sat down. Another woman pointed at the water, seeming to ask if I wanted to swim. I shook my head. I couldn't swim at all.
"Miss, champagne?" A server held out a tray.
"No, thank you." My voice came out tight. "Non-alcoholic."
Any sharp smell lately made me nauseous.
He immediately swapped it for a pale green drink and handed it to me.
The women laughed and talked. Whenever someone looked at me, I could only nod. They laughed, I laughed along. They exclaimed, I pretended to understand. Less than five minutes in, my facial muscles started to ache.
I was like a kid who'd wandered into an adult party, wearing clothes someone else picked out, holding a drink I couldn't name, trying hard to pretend I belonged.
When I looked up again, Varlam had already taken a seat among those older men. Brinny nestled against him.
I gulped down a mouthful of my drink. The lemon and mint taste was refreshing, but couldn't suppress the sourness in my throat. I told myself to stop looking, but my gaze kept torturing itself, refusing to look away.
Brinny leaned close to Varlam's ear to speak, her lips almost touching him. When Varlam turned his face, her kiss grazed his cheek.
My stomach suddenly lurched. The nausea came hard and fast, felt like the air was being sucked from my lungs. I quickly set down the rest of the drink and stood up.
The woman next to me looked at me questioningly. I pointed toward the cabin, waved my hand, indicating I was just leaving for a bit. She smiled and nodded.
But I didn't go into the cabin. Inside was full of people, laughter. I just wanted to find somewhere no one was talking to catch my breath. I walked forward along the side passage.
The sun was slowly sinking toward the sea. The afternoon gold had turned to heavy orange-red, the water sliced into countless rippling fragments. The wind was stronger than when I'd boarded, whipping my hair constantly against my face.
By the time I reached the forward deck, the noise was finally left behind. No one here. Quiet enough. I approached the railing, gripping the rail with both hands. My chest still felt tight. No land anywhere, the sea stretching to the edge of vision, like a huge room with no exit.
I took a deep breath.
How ridiculous. Before coming here, I'd thought today would be the start of something changing between us.
He'd picked out clothes, picked out a necklace, said he looked forward to seeing me wear them. I thought the questions he hadn't answered would get answers today. The answer definitely appeared—just not the one I wanted.
"Hiding out here alone—is this enjoying the party?" A familiar voice came from behind me, and my shoulders immediately tensed.
Brinny. How did she suddenly get here?
"It's quieter here." I didn't turn around.
"So you like quiet." Brinny walked to my side, the corner of her mouth slowly curling up. "Then you don't belong here."
Of course I knew that. From the moment I stepped onto this yacht, I hadn't had a single moment that wasn't awkward.
"I've never been to a place like this before," I said calmly.
Admitting it wasn't shameful. I'd never been on a private yacht, couldn't tell who was who among those men on the top level. But I could calculate how many flowers a wedding needed, knew which supplier could help when the budget ran short, knew how to support myself and Rory on one salary.
My life wasn't inferior to hers, just not as luxurious.
"I'm the one who told Varlam to bring you." Brinny's eyes turned toward the sea.
"Why?" I turned to look at her.
She should want me to disappear from her sight.
She didn't answer right away. The wind lifted her ponytail, her posture composed like she'd rehearsed this scene in advance.
"The Vasiliev family and Petrov family have worked together for many years. Our families' businesses are interdependent. From very early on, everyone assumed I would marry Varlam."
My stomach churned again.
"What does this have to do with me?" I forced myself to look unconcerned.
"It has everything to do with you." She turned toward me, lips curving. "Today's party is hosted by my father. The purpose is to discuss our marriage with Varlam."
"And?" My fingers gripped the rail tighter.
The metal's coolness seeped into my palm. I could only straighten my back, trying to hide the chill spreading through my entire body.
"And? We're getting married." She looked at me like I'd asked the stupidest question in the world. "He's loved me longer than he's known you. I wanted you on this yacht to see with your own eyes how he'd leave you behind and choose me without hesitation. So you'd leave quietly."
She said it like it was obvious.
My chest felt like something had been carved out of it. I wanted to argue back. But I couldn't find a single word strong enough. Brinny only had to reach out her hand, and he'd let go of me and walk to her. The truth was more brutal than any argument.
"Who Varlam wants to marry is his business. I'm just his assistant." I forced down the lump in my throat.
Brinny looked at me mockingly, clearly seeing through my facade.
"Honestly, I'm starting to pity you. In love with Varlam but never getting a drop of love back, then having to pretend nothing can hurt you." Her gaze dropped to my chest. "And this necklace—he casually gives it to you, and you start thinking you're special?"
I instinctively touched the necklace, but she reached out first, hooking the crystal pendant, her long sharp nails scraping my skin.
"What are you doing?" I tried to pull away from her hand.
But she gripped harder, the delicate chain digging into my neck. The next second, she yanked hard, the crystal pendant falling into her palm.
The sound of the chain breaking was soft, but my neck felt like it had been slashed.
"He prepared a ring for me before." Brinny looked at the pendant, her voice suddenly going gentle.
"Not this kind of crystal you can buy by the crate, but a one-of-a-kind diamond ring he personally selected.
He got down on one knee wanting to put the ring on my finger. I just didn't accept it at the time."
She didn't need to raise her voice, but every word precisely stabbed the most vulnerable place in my heart.
I knew full well she was telling the truth. A man as proud as Varlam wouldn't easily forgive someone who left him. Unless that person mattered enough that even being hurt couldn't make him truly let go.
"Done?" I asked. "Then give it back."
I didn't want to admit that what I treasured so much was just a stone Brinny wouldn't deign to look at.
"You still haven't given up." Her expression changed to an unsettling calm.
The sea breeze passed between us. A muffled cheer came from somewhere far off, like it belonged to another world.
"Since you care so much." Her hand moved toward the sea. "Go get it yourself."
She opened her hand. The brown crystal sailed over the railing, plummeting toward the water.
"No!" I immediately lunged toward the railing, reaching out to grab it.
But the necklace had already disappeared into the water, my fingertips only touching cold air. Brinny's laughter came from behind me.
"What the hell do you want?" I whirled around, shouting at her.
She was too close, close enough that I could see the madness in her eyes. A terrible premonition swept over me.
Her hand suddenly shoved my shoulder. The deck beneath my feet was already wet. I stepped on a small patch of water, my shoes slipped. I instinctively tried to grab something, but my body went straight over the railing. The world tilted before my eyes.
I was done for. I'd been pushed into the freezing seawater.