Chapter 5 #2
“Not a problem at all, Miss Shabalin. It has been an honor to work with your family,” Mrs. Ivanov replies.
With her being the main dressmaker within the powerful circle of the Russian mafia families, I am sure that’s true.
Our inner circle no doubt paid for the upscale shop as well as the high-end townhouse Mrs. Ivanov and her husband no-doubt live in.
This woman, I’m sure, is used to being patient in order to please her very wealthy, very powerful clients.
“Come right this way,” Mrs. Ivanov encourages, waving a hand toward the large suite of white and gold curtained changing rooms. “I have your gown ready for you.”
Ten minutes later and with the help of Mrs. Ivanov, I’m fitted into my wedding dress.
Even though it’s only my first fitting, the ivory long-sleeved sheath dress fits my curves like an absolute dream.
The first layer of silk hugs my features perfectly.
It dips down into a sweetheart cut at my breasts and rides low on my back, while the hand-stitched ivory lace overlay clings to my arms, neck, and upper back as if it were a second skin.
Ivory silk buttons lay in a perfect line down my back, from my neck all the way down to my tailbone.
It is…perfection. A dream wedding gown. Unfortunately it isn’t for the dream wedding.
“Oh no,” Mrs. Ivanov said worriedly, studying my face in the full-length mirror. “You do not like it.”
I snap out of my depressive thought and quickly put a fake smile back on.
“No! It is perfect, Mrs. Ivanov,” I assure her. “Honestly. You have outdone yourself!”
The dressmaker beams and claps her hands.
“Oh, I’m so glad you think so! I completely agree! Now come, let’s take you out to your father and sister. They can have a look at you while I go get your veil.”
I let Mrs. Ivanov lead me to the front of the shop, where Valya, my father, and even Viktor look at me with wide, misty eyes.
“Isn’t she gorgeous?” Mrs. Ivanov crows.
“Miss Annika,” Viktor breaths.
“Wow, Annie,” Valya says, shaking her head in disbelief. “It’s…you’re…”
“Moy angel,” Yulian says, his deep voice breaking as he slowly brings his hands together. His eyes roamed down the dress once more before he meets my stare, a sad smile on his lips.
“Moy angel, you look…oh, you look just like your mother,” he finished, then let out a stifled sob as he opened his arms and stepped toward her.
I work to swallow the lump in my throat, the praise settling deep into my heart. I open her arms, tears forming in my eyes, and accept my father’s tight hug.
“You really think so?”
"So beautiful,” Yulian chokes out, squeezing me tight. “She would be so, so very happy to see you like this, doch.”
An ache I thought healed long ago opens up in my chest at my father’s words. I miss my mother every day, but have told myself I was through with mourning. Now, I realize that wasn’t true. That I will never really stop mourning such a heavy loss- and neither will my father.
I then remember what my father told me after he approached me with the news of my marriage. That he and my mother had been arranged, and that they had found bliss and happiness despite the stress of their violent world. I know he hopes the same for me.
I draw in a steadying breath, tell myself that just like my mother, I too will find happiness despite the situation. I then send up a prayer, silently begging that my future husband would be as loving to me as my father was to my mother.
My eyes then skip over to Valya, standing alone and misty-eyed. I pulled away from our father with one arm and beckon my little sister with the other.
“Come on, mladshaya sestra,” I beckon, “Get in here.”
Valya hurries over to us, looking more like the lost little girl she was all those years ago when our mother died instead of the stubborn, always angry woman she’s become. The three of us hold one another tight, only breaking up when Mrs. Ivanov sweeps back into the room with the veil.
“Careful, careful!” Mrs. Ivanov warns, “There’s still some pins in there!”
The three of us laugh softly as we pull apart from another, and I flick the tears from my cheek as Mrs. Ivanov begins to fuss with the veil. Like the overlay of the dress, it is made of ivory hand-stitched laced. It falls to my breasts in the front and far down to the train of my dress in the back.
“Some solitaire diamonds for your ears,” Mrs. Ivanov suggests as she makes small touchups to the gown and veil, “But other than that, I think anything besides your new wedding rings would be too much. What do you think, Miss Annika?”
“Papa?” I ask, turning to my father.
Yulian dabs at his eyes with his kerchief as he nods.
“We will go to Tiffany’s after this,” he agrees, then turns to Viktor.
Viktor nods, and pulls out his cellphone to make the appointment.
As I go back to the dressing room to change, my thoughts suddenly turn to the night I’ve just shared with my handsome stranger.
My body began to hum with need as I thought of all the sinfully wonderfully things he’d done to me, and I wonder, as Mrs. Ivanov helps me out of the pristine white dress, if perhaps I deserved to wear such an innocent color.
“Are you alright dear?” Mrs. Ivanov asked, pulling me from my thoughts. “You’re looking a bit flushed.”
I feel my cheeks grow hotter at the question, but quickly nod.
“Oh, yes,” I lie, forcing a smile. “I was just thinking of my future husband.”
“Whoever he is, he is a lucky man,” Mrs. Ivanov states confidently.
I smile appreciatively, but after the way I submitted myself so wholly to the stranger last night- the stranger that would no doubt tease my dreams for eternity- I wonder if that is true. Because whoever this man I’m marrying is, I doubt he will ever be able to please me the way my mystery man did.