Chapter 18
Zoya
Iwake up to another glorious day, turning to look at the side of the bed only to find Alexei’s spot empty. Hmm, he must have left early. Well, I have a busy day ahead of me.
I look towards the clock beside me to check the time.
Crap! Why did I sleep for so long? I’m pretty sure it’s because Alexei was giving me back rubs and booty taps.
That annoying, handsome… ugh! I roll off the bed and pad down to the bathroom to take a bath.
Done in a few minutes, I dry off and head to my closet.
There’s a vast selection of clothes to choose from - dresses, shirts, coats, crop tops, jeans… name it!
Most of them are new. From what I could tell, Alexei bought them all for me. His excuse? ‘My wife should only be wearing the latest. I don’t want people to think that the ‘Almighty Pakhan,’ can’t afford to drape his beautiful wife in the finest.’ Hence, all these expensive clothes.
I’m not gonna sit here and complain. Shit! I’m living the dream. In a way, yes, I like to be pampered. When I was young and still lived with my family, my tato used to buy me everything. After I ran away, I never imagined I would enjoy these again.
I skimmed my hand on the clothes, letting my fingers glide towards each fabric.
Then I stop on a perfect fit. I pull out a brown Valentino dress - chocolate brown with a square neckline and long sleeves, midi length with this subtle jacquard texture.
I grab the cream Louboutin pumps to go with it, the ones with the red soles.
When I put it all together on the bed, I can’t help the smile that tugs on my lip.
The girls are going to salivate over this.
Especially Anya. She’s the fashion enthusiast - who may or may not have a penny to her name but somehow can afford expensive bags.
Someday, she’s going to have to confess to me who’s funding her.
I’m not judgmental; I’m being funded myself.
I begin to put on the Valentino, taking my sweet time.
The fabric feels incredible, smooth, and heavy.
It hugs every curve, fits like it was tailored for me.
Which, knowing Alexei, it probably was. The Louboutin goes on next; five-inch heels that are basically death traps but make my legs look incredible.
I look at myself in the full-length mirror.
My brown hair is up in a ponytail, showing off my neck.
Just when I think my mood is great, suddenly, from the corner of my eye, I find a mosquito bite.
Or at least I wished it was. Ughhhh! I want to kill him.
That overgrown bug of a husband gnawing on my neck like a bedbug.
I quickly head to my vanity to put a color corrector on the mark.
The freaking ring wasn’t enough; now he had to go do this.
Seeing as there isn’t much I can do, I regret having my skin this pale. I should get a tan. Because Alexei would probably love his mark to even be on my cheek.
Rolling my eyes, I move on to the last piece of jewelry. The pearl necklace has 4 layers and is quite beautiful, with a bit of gold in the chain connector.
I inspect myself one last time, turning to my side to get a better view. I hear the door open, heavy footsteps padding inside. Alexei’s voice comes next. “My beautiful wife, you look absolutely gorgeous.” He says playfully. “Come on, do a little twirl for me.”
Chuckling, I angle my head at him and reply. “Stop teasing me.”
“Oh! And why would I tease you?” He jokes, crossing the space, with a twinkle in his eyes. “Tell me, are you trying to overshadow the birthday girl?”
“What? No!” I say back. “And anyway, I’m late and have to get going.” I try to push him off as he has his large hands wrapped around my waist.
“Oh come on, Vedma. You want to leave looking this good and not let me take pictures?” He put his hands near his heart in mock offense.
“One day, you’re going to have to confess to me just where you got these acting skills from. And why do you even need my pictures? Wait a minute. You’re not planning to jerk off to them again, are you?”
“You know me so well, but no Vedma. These will be for my viewing pleasure. You’re already here, so I don’t really need to jerk off to a photo when I can do that to the real deal.”
I roll my eyes, then move to the middle of the room and gesture at the seat. “Go take a seat there and prepare your device.”
Grinning, Alexei does as I say, taking a seat on the bed’s edge. He takes out his phone as I strike a pose, so much light in his eyes. “Yes!” he cheers. “Just like that. Come on, Vedma… strut for me.”
The heels are 5 inches with pencil footing, but I wasn’t going to let that deter me. Immediately, I start to walk forward, putting one foot in front of the other.
“Yes, beautiful,” he groans. “You’re doing great! These Instagram models have nothing on you. Show that smile. Ah yes! Gorgeous! Gorgeous!”
I’m all grins and giggles, but just as I put my last foot in front, nearing the bed, I trip.
I start to fall face down, and immediately regret the shoes.
But I never touch the ground. Like the flash, Alexei scoops me up in a princess carry.
He is over the top, but I’m so glad. I don’t need a bruised face and my friends thinking I was hit.
“Vedma, if you wanted to be carried by me, you could have just asked,” Alexei purrs smoothly.
“Faking a fall so you could be close to me… Ah, I guess you’ve also started to fall for me.
But you don’t need to fake a fall for me to carry you.
All you need to do is say my name, and I’ll carry you - princess style, over my shoulder, however you want. Just say it, and I’m there.”
“Still so full of yourself, huh?”
He sets me down gently but keeps his hands hooked on my waist. “I prefer the term self-aware,” he says, his gaze drifting down to my feet until his expression shifts. “How high are those heels?”
“Five inches.”
“Can you walk in them without breaking your neck?”
“I just did a whole catwalk for you.”
“You also just ate shit trying to reach the bed.” He’s already moving toward the closet. “You’re changing shoes.”
I start to say I’m fine, but he comes back with a different pair of Louboutins - still cream, but with a three-inch heel instead of the five. “Vedma, you’re going to a birthday party, not a photo shoot, and I’d prefer it if my wife came home with her face intact.”
I want to argue, but my feet are already screaming. “Fine.”
He crouches down in front of me and starts unbuckling the death traps, his hands warm on my ankles as he slides them off and replaces them with the new ones. His fingers work the tiny buckles like he’s done it a thousand times before.
“There.” He stands up and brushes off his pants. “Better?”
I take a few steps and feel the difference immediately. “Yeah, okay, you were right.”
“Who would’ve guessed.” He circles me slowly, adjusting the dress here and smoothing the fabric there, unable to stop touching me. Then he disappears into the closet again and comes back with a slim gold bracelet. “Give me your wrist.”
I hold it out, and he clasps it on, the metal sitting delicately against my skin and catching the light when I move. “Is this a tracker?”
His smile is absolutely shameless. “Would I do something like that?”
“Yes.”
“Then you already know the answer.” He kisses my knuckles. “Viktor will drive you, and two men will follow in another car, but they’ll stay out of sight.”
“I know the drill.”
“Good.” He tilts my chin up and studies my face. “Oh, and Vedma? Don’t make any plans for tomorrow afternoon.”
“Why?”
“The wedding planner is coming.”
I blink. “What wedding planner?”
“Our wedding planner. The wedding is next week, and we need to finalize everything.”
“Next week? Alexei, that’s…”
“Perfect timing.” He smooths down my hair, completely unbothered by my panic. “Most of it is already handled, so you just need to pick flowers, music, and whether you want champagne or vodka.”
“A few things? For a wedding in a week?”
“Don’t worry, Vedma.” He kisses my forehead. “Now go. Have fun. Show off. Make your friends jealous.” He seems to remember something as his head jerks towards his watch, a frown settling on his face. “Shit, I need to get to a meeting with my men.”
He leans in and brushes a kiss against my forehead, his thumb lingering on my jaw for a split second. “Be good. Don’t stray far from where my security can find you.”
“Alright, sure,” I murmur, though we both know I’m not exactly great at following orders.
He vanishes into the hallway, and I’m left alone with my reflection. I grab my Bottega Veneta and head for the drive, where Viktor is standing like a statue next to the car. His eyes flick over my outfit for a heartbeat, his expression unreadable.
“Is there something on my face, Viktor?”
“No, ma’am. You’re as gorgeous as ever.”
I slide into the backseat, and he closes the door.
We pull away from the house, another black SUV falling into a perfect, silent formation behind us.
The drive through Moscow traffic takes twenty minutes, and I spend the time staring at the grey Moscow skyline, my mind racing.
A wedding in a single week feels like a fever dream, but Alexei isn't the type to wait for anything he’s already decided is his.
We pull up outside the restaurant, and I step out into the biting Moscow cold. A doorman rushes over before my heels even hit the pavement. “Good afternoon, madam. May I take your coat?”
“Yes, thank you.”
The cold vanishes as soon as I cross the threshold. I hand over my Burberry and face the hostess, who is already evaluating my jewelry with a keen eye.
“Good afternoon. Do you have a reservation?”
“I’m here for Yelena’s party. In the private room.”
“Of course! Right this way, please.”