Chapter 11
ARIA
Satin and lace, shimmering in the sunlight. An A-line silhouette that’s classy and gorgeous, accentuated with more delicate lace at the edges of a sweetheart neckline.
It’s a…white dress.
A wedding dress.
I'm wrapped in a robe staring at the dress, my mind reeling with my options. Or…lack of options.
Why is there a wedding dress in this room? A gentle knock sounds at the door, immediately followed by harsh voices. I look around the room for Mikhail.
It's happening. I'm looking for him for comfort and security.
I can't let myself go there.
“Who’s there?” I ask.
No answer.
The voices rise and fall on the other side of the door. Still wearing nothing but a robe, I walk to the door and peek through the peephole.
I wish I knew the layout of his home. There's a little hallway in front of me, and three armed men. I’m kind of honored they consider me so dangerous I’ve got security like that.
But standing right in the middle of them is a young, beautiful woman with long blonde hair that hangs all the way down her back. She holds her chin high and talks to the men fearlessly.
"Hello?" I say tentatively.
She snaps at them when she throws her hands up in the air. "I fucking knew you had her in there. You monsters. Open the fucking door. Now.”
The first shakes his head. “If your brother finds you came up here —”
It’s his sister. Oh thank God.
She defiantly sticks out her chin. “If you don't open that door, I am calling him myself."
I’m…standing in a robe. Still, she's a woman, she seems like she's on my side, and I'm in severe shortage of people on my side right now. I go to open the door a crack. "Hello?"
She presses her face to the opened crack of the door. “I'm your almost sister-in-law, open the door and let me in, please. We have a lot to do.”
He didn’t tell me not to open the door, but I know in my gut obviously he doesn't want me to do it.
What will he do? Kill me? It’s his sister.
I open the door amidst curse words and warnings from the security team. Yeah, whatever. The second she’s in, I hear one of them call Mikhail on his cell. We don’t have much time here.
She comes in, spins on her heel, and slams the door behind her.
Wow. This woman is stunning. Her long, flowing, platinum-blonde hair hangs down to her waist, and her ice blue eyes are framed with long, thick lashes.
She’s graceful yet athletic, standing a few inches taller than me.
With fair skin, she almost looks delicate, but there’s something about the way she holds herself that tells me that’s only an illusion.
I get the distinct feeling she’s like tightly wrapped dynamite. A gymnast or ballerina or something.
She takes one look at me in my robe. “Hi, I’m Polina, and there will be hell to pay for me coming in here, but honey, we have to get you ready. The wedding’s in an hour."
I grimace but need to ask her. I need confirmation. My voice sounds as if it’s coming from somewhere else for the pounding in my ears.
“Whose…wedding?”
She stares at me, unblinking. "He didn't tell you?"
I shake my head. “He told me a lot of things, but I don't remember the word wedding coming into play. I’m guessing it’s…mine? The wedding? The...” I gesture toward the dress. “The dress?”
The impending sense of doom?
She whistles. “Yeah, honey.” She waves her hand at the dress and then gestures to a pile of accessories neatly lined up beside it that I didn’t notice before.
Shoes, a small satin bag, a gauzy veil. “My brothers can do a lot of not-so-nice things, but this is pretty low.
Wow. Alright then. We still have to get you ready.
" Rubbing her hands together, she blows out a breath.
I should’ve known this. I should’ve pieced it all together. He’d said I’d be punished, that I belonged to him now. How else would I belong to him?
Marriage to a cold, heartless criminal? I remember how he touched me in the shower, detached and cold, as if I were his…property.
Property.
Polina looks from me to the dress and back again. "At least I have to say I did pick one that's going to look gorgeous on you."
"You bought that?"
“I did good, huh?” she says with a twinkle in her eye. “I’m really good at things like this. Explaining why my brothers do what they do? That, I’m not so good at.”
“But can you tell me what’s happening? Where am I?” I open my mouth to ask her more but can’t bring myself to do so. What happens after we’re married?
There’s a commotion outside the door. Voices rise and fall.
Uh oh.
Mikhail is back, and he’s furious.
Polina seems to realize this the same time I do.
“Hold your ground,” she hisses, just as the door opens. “He isn’t as scary as you think.”
Oh, really?
“Out, Mikhail!” She shouts. “Do not come in here. It's bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the ceremony."
He storms into the room, ignoring her.
"Who the fuck told you, you had a right to come in here?” His voice is a growl. I notice he’s lost the towel and has changed into a tux.
This is happening. We’re doing this. We’re going to get married.
“I asked you a question,” he growls at his sister.
“I did!” I stand between him and his sister. If I’m going to get married to this beast of a man, the least I can do is use that to my advantage. “I need a woman to help me get ready for this wedding, which, I’ll have you know, I didn’t even know was happening!”
He turns the full heat of his gaze on me, and I have to concentrate hard not to wither under his glare.
Instead of responding to me, he turns back to Polina. "I specifically told you not to come near my captive. You were told not to talk to her."
She stands her ground, her hands on her hips. “She needed help and you were nowhere to be found. Do you really want to get married with her wearing a robe?”
He responds with another growl.
“And by the way,” I say, asserting myself in an attempt to keep him on his toes. “When were you going to tell me about this wedding? On our honeymoon?”
"Very cute you think you're getting a honeymoon."
“Like I want a honeymoon with you,” I mutter. Polina stifles a snort.
“Watch it, Aria,” he says in a warning tone. “You think I won’t pull you over my knee in front of anyone? Try me.”
I look away, my cheeks flaming.
“You are going to spend the rest of your life with this woman, Mikhail,” Polina says candidly.
“I suggest you treat her nicely. You know literally nothing about makeup and bronzer and highlighter, you have no idea how to style her hair, and correct me if I’m wrong, but wasn’t it you who told me there’ll be photos we’ll have to publicize? It would behoove you to prepare her.”
"I'll help her."
"You will not see your bride before the wedding, Mikhail! It’s bad luck.”
One of the guards stands tentatively in the doorway, another hovering at his shoulder. “Boss, I’m sorry, there’s a situation.”
Mikhail shoves me behind him. Shit. I forgot I’m still wearing a robe.
“Get the fuck out. If you look at her, I’ll fucking kill you.”
Polina’s widened eyes tell me this is no bluff.
They scurry out of the room like terrified mice. Mikhail blows out a breath and turns to Polina. He says something in Russian that makes Polina flinch before he speaks again in English. "You help her get ready. But this is not over. There are consequences for disobedience, and you know it."
He leaves, the scent of sandalwood and pine lingering in his wake. When the door shuts, she sticks her tongue out at it. Despite my pounding heart and shaky nerves, it makes me smile.
"I wish I could say he was all bluster, but he's not.” With a sigh, she shakes her head. “He actually is quite terrifying. He’s lucky I love him.”
“What did he say to you just now?”
“Oh, it was just a string of curse words and promises to exile me to Siberia if I interfere. It’s fine, we’re good.”
Definitely not soothing my nerves.
“Are you in…trouble?”
I’m confused about these family dynamics, but I do know one thing: Mikhail is the one in charge of damn near everyone.
She rolls her eyes, but I can tell it’s only forced bravado. A part of her is scared.
“What will he do?”
“Oh, to me?” She reaches for the dress, her back to me, and waves her hand in the air. “Don’t worry about me.”
I do, though. I feel somehow responsible.
She quickly changes the subject. “Listen, I don't know why you're getting married, but I know why Mikhail is.
You're going to find this out soon enough.
If he doesn't get married, my entire family is fucked.
That's the short story. You're getting married today. He’s all strung up and on high alert because there are people who very much want to prevent this from happening.
You are in danger. That's why you have like basically an entire squad of bodyguards outside the door. The last women he—”
She suddenly thinks better of telling me this and shakes her head. “Never mind. We have to get you ready.”
“I see.”
Quirking a brow at me she tips her head to the side. “What did you do?”
I give her a wry smile. “I came to them for help and protection and just sort of…maybe hacked a bit into their database and, uh…maybe breached a little security.”
She turns to face me, a trace of a smile on her lips. “Wow. Seriously? That’s the most badass thing I’ve ever heard in my life. But didn’t anyone warn you what you were dealing with?”
Maybe?
“Girl, I could tell you stories...” She shakes her head. “There’s something he likes about you, which is the only reason you’re getting off easy.”
I stare at her as if she’s speaking a foreign language before I respond. “Listen, Polina, first, I hope to God he likes me because we’re getting married. And in what universe is getting married to a man like him getting off easy?”
Obviously, they live in a world that operates within a much different set of rules than I do.