Chapter 29
ALINA
The days blur together in a strange, colorless way, like someone drained the world of anything bright and left only quiet behind. After I’m discharge from the hospital, I’m brought back to the penthouse, just as Andrei promised I would be. I feel heavier, now. Depressed, even.
I sleep more than I’m awake. Not because I want to, but because my body seems to insist on it.
Every time I try to stay up for longer than an hour or two, exhaustion pulls me back under again, heavy and inescapable.
The doctors say it’s normal after shock.
Pregnancy doesn’t help. Stress doesn’t help. Nothing about this situation helps.
Andrei doesn’t ever come to check on me. I know he’s somewhere in the penthouse. I hear doors open and close at odd hours. I hear voices in the hall. Things are happening all around. Preparations for the wedding are still being made, even after the bombshell news of the baby.
Meals are brought to me, usually by a maid or a guard. A nurse comes every day to see how I’m doing. Andrei comes to check on me exactly twice, and only when someone else is present. When he does appear, it’s brief. He asks if I need anything, waits for my answer, nods at my response, then leaves.
He clearly doesn’t want to be around me, and how can I blame him? I knew if he ever found out about the baby, the fallout would be bad. I expected anger, though. I expected shouting and threats and his barely concealed anger.
Silence is so much worse.
I don’t want to dwell on it too much, so I rest. I eat when someone brings food. I take the vitamins the doctor prescribed. I stare out the tall windows at a city that keeps moving forward while my life feels suspended in glass.
Then, one morning, I’m feeling much better. I get out of bed on my own and get dressed. I get up and go to the dining room for breakfast. When the guards see me up and about on my own, they tell me that we’re going out.
The words alone are enough to make my stomach twist. I haven’t been anywhere since the attack. Even the thought of taking a step out of the penthouse makes me want to dry-heave.
I realize, though, that this isn’t a request. We’re leaving the apartment whether I want to or not. They lead me out of the apartment and to the garage where I’m loaded into yet another town car.
No one speaks to me during the ride, not that it’s unusual. The guards aren’t known for being chatty. One does nudge me lightly, though, when the car starts to slow.
“We’re almost to our destination, Miss Kuznetsova,” he says gruffly.
I open my eyes slowly and make myself look out the window. We’re pulling down a quiet street. I notice that it’s blocked on both sides. Only Andrei’s people are allowed in. What is this, I wonder?
We stop in front of a large, ornate restaurant, and I’m confused until I see a sight that takes my breath away. My father is walking toward me with a huge smile on his face. I nearly topple over the guards to get to the door. I stumble out and run to him, leaping into his arms.
He holds me tightly.
“My beautiful girl,” he says tearfully. “I’m so glad you’re safe!”
“Me?” I laugh through tears. “I’m happy you’re safe! What are you doing here?”
He looks down at me with a mixture of pride and a little sadness. “Mr. Markov wanted to make sure I was available to walk my baby girl down the aisle at her wedding.”
“My wedding?” I ask.
“Yes,” my father replies. “And I’m so sorry about the first one. I really thought Kostya was a good man. He buttered me up something fierce and I fell for it. I will never be able to apologize to you enough for that.”
“It’s okay, Dad,” I say and give him another hug. “Now let’s go get you married to a real man.”
His words stop me in my tracks. I look at the blockades on either end of the street, then crane my neck to look inside. There’s a young assistant waiting for me with a headset. She’s a stranger, but she’s motioning at me, like she’s been waiting for me all day.
“I’ll leave you to get to it,” my dad says, reluctantly letting me go. “I’ll be waiting for you when you’re ready.”
Dazed, I walk away from him and follow the woman into the restaurant. Caterers are still setting everything up, and Andrei is nowhere to be found. There’s a string quartet in a corner already warming up for the ceremony. It’s all a lot to take in.
The woman leads me to a private room in the back. There’s a full-length mirror, a chair, and soft track lighting. Against one wall, my dress is hanging up, just ready to be put on. This is really happening.
The woman has me sit in the chair and another woman comes in, rolling a huge suitcase. She must be my glam squad. Sure enough, she spends the next hour curling my hair and applying my makeup until I look in the mirror and barely recognize myself.
Then, the assistant pulls my dress off the wall and starts helping me into it. The whole scene is so bizarre and surreal. I don’t even know this woman’s name.
When I’m all zipped into the dress, there’s a soft knock at the door. My father pokes his head in and when I look at him, his eyes begin to water again.
“You’re a beautiful bride,” he says joyfully. “I always knew you would be.”
What can I possibly say to that? That none of this is real? That this wedding is all for show?
No, I can’t tell him that. So, instead, I grab on to his arm.
“You ready to give me away?” I ask him.
“I’ve only just gotten you back,” he says a little sadly. “But yes, I’m ready to see my little girl married to a man who loves her.”
I nearly laugh at this. What exactly has Andrei told him? I can’t even imagine at this point. All I know is that we’re walking down a velvet aisle that feels insanely soft underneath my high heels.
I look down to assess the deep red, stretching forward between rows of people who turn to watch as we walk. The music swells gently around us, soft enough that it feels private even in a crowded room.
My heart pounds so hard I’m sure everyone can hear it.
“Steady on,” my dad whispers in my ear. “There’s only one person here who matters.”
I look ahead and see Andrei waiting for me there, stiff and still as he’s ever been. He doesn’t even smile at me as I walk toward him. Part of me wants to cry. Another part wants to run away from this farce of a wedding.
Only because I want it to be real. I want him to be so in love with me that everyone in the room can see it on his face.
I want to feel butterflies and an odd sense of calm that I always hear other people talk about.
I want to know that I’m about to say “I do” to a man that I’ll always love and care for.
Instead, I feel sad. Not in the same way I felt when I was walking toward Kostya and watching him screw a waitress. Sad because Andrei could actually be the love of my life. Sad because we could be parents to a perfectly happy baby and live a mostly normal life.
He takes my hands when I reach the end of the aisle. His are warm and steady. He holds onto mine carefully, like he’s afraid I might disappear if he grips too tightly. Maybe I will, I think almost hysterically. Maybe I should.
The vows pass in a blur of words I barely process. We make promises to one another. Fake promises. The priest talks about tradition and the sacred vow we’re making. He calls upon all the witnesses gathered to testify to our union.
When he slides the ring onto my finger, the diamond catches the light in a way that makes the room tilt slightly. It’s unbelievably beautiful and heavy. It’s probably the only thing in this whole ceremony that’s genuine.
Then he kisses me. It’s soft and brief, and controlled in a way that he just can’t seem to help. Despite that, my knees actually go weak. If his hands weren’t already holding me upright, I might have fallen right there in front of everyone.
Then the priest is declaring us husband and wife. That’s it. We’re married. It all still feels like it’s happening to someone else.
After the vows are said, Andrei leads me over to a table set with water for me and wine for him and food I can’t imagine eating. My stomach is still doing somersaults. When I sit down, I’m shocked to see Kendra sitting across from me, a radiant smile on her face.
“Oh, my God,” I say, reaching for her. “What are you doing here?”
“Your husband invited me,” she winks, emphasizing the word husband.
I can’t believe it. He’s set all of this up so beautifully. It’s more than I could have ever imagined, even in the wedding dress that was too big a few weeks ago and is now a little too snug around the middle.
My father sits beside me, squeezing my hand under the table every now and then. Despite everything, it feels like a real wedding. This feels like a real reception.
Until Andrei stands.
The room quiets instantly, though I think it’s more because of his commanding presence and not because he’s the groom.
When he begins to speak, everyone listens carefully.
I finally take a moment to look around the room and realize that, besides Kendra and my father, I don’t recognize a single person here.
I think most of them must be Andrei’s men.
He begins to speak, voice calm and clear, carrying easily through the space.
I try to focus on the words he’s saying, but I’m too distracted by the looks on their faces.
Then, two soldiers step forward, dragging someone between them.
It’s an unsettling sight. My father grabs my hand again and Kendra gasps.
The bruised, bloody man with his hands bound behind his back is Kostya.
I look around again, trying to see how Andrei’s men are reacting to this, but they’re all smiling and laughing. In their eyes, Kostya’s getting what’s coming to him. Maybe he is. Maybe he deserves all this. It’s no less jarring to see.
“Kostya Belov, you and your thugs attempted to end my life on several occasions,” Andrei says in a calm and even voice.
“You threatened my business, and you threatened my life. Everyone present here now knows what you did and who you are. From here on out, you have a black spot on your name. Your associates have already been dealt with, and your business is gone.”
“Please,” Kostya whimpers, before turning to me with one good eye. The other is swollen shut. “Please, Alina—”
Before he can let out another word, one of Andrei’s men whips him across the face with the butt of his gun. Kostya whimpers and Andrei snaps to have him dragged away.
Andrei sits down, looking satisfied. He looks at me with expectation, but I don’t know what to say. Instead, I look down at the ring on my finger, watching as the light catches the diamonds and makes them dance.
“Well,” I murmur quietly, my voice unsteady, “as wedding presents go, I liked the ring better.”