Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 84968 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84968 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Dress forms displayed various undergarment options, jewelry boxes overflowed with sparkling accessories, and champagne glasses sat mostly untouched on silver trays.
It was surreal, like playing dress-up for the most important day of my life while feeling completely disconnected from the reality of it.
"Of course it's stunning. I don't do mediocre." Yelena stepped back to admire her work, her narrowed eyes critical as they swept over every detail. "Though Pavel giving me only two weeks to create a masterpiece was completely unreasonable. Do you know how many hours of hand-beading this required?"
She gestured to the intricate patterns covering the bodice and trailing down the skirt like constellation maps. I could only imagine the painstaking work that had gone into each tiny detail.
Around us, the other wives murmured approval—Marina with her warm smile and gentle hands as she adjusted the delicate cap sleeves, Samara holding up different jewelry options against my skin, Viktoria quietly observing with understanding in her eyes, and Nadia offering encouraging nods.
All married to men just as dangerous as Pavel, yet they glowed with happiness that seemed impossible given their circumstances.
From what I could tell, none of the others had a family member at the mercy of these monsters, so why were these women with killers?
How could they love such treacherous men so completely?
"The veil is next," Marina said, lifting a cascade of silk tulle adorned with the same intricate beadwork as the dress. "Yelena recreated Pavel's grandmother's veil from some old family photos and added beading to match your dress."
Family heirlooms, custom gowns, elaborate ceremonies—why was Pavel insisting on all these traditional elements?
He didn't love me.
We weren't dating.
This was to ensure my silence about the brutal murder I saw him commit.
Nothing more.
He wasn’t my lover.
I was an enemy he was keeping close. Under control.
The contradiction of it all gnawed at me.
Why make this big show about a lie?
Why not just have a courthouse wedding?
Why do any of this?
Yet, at the same time, he had placed my grandmother in the best facility.
The staff had impeccable standards and were not overworked; my grandmother got the attention she needed. Pavel had her placed in the best room, ensuring she received the highest level of care.
"You know," Marina said quietly as Viktoria carefully positioned the veil, "I was terrified too. Right up until I walked down that aisle. I kept thinking about running, about fighting, about anything except saying those vows."
Nadia laughed. "Strictly speaking you didn't exactly walk down the aisle."
Yelena poked her head from around me to glare at Marina. "I still haven't forgiven you for how you ruined that beautiful veil I made by tearing it off your damn head in the middle of the ceremony."
Samara handed her more pins. "Be nice. The veil would have gotten in the way when she slapped Kostya."
My eyes widened as I stared at Marina in the mirror's reflection.
I couldn't imagine her slapping Pavel's brother Kostya, who was every bit as big and scary as Pavel. How did she even reach him to slap him? He was so much taller than her.
I couldn't resist asking even as my cheeks warmed. "Did he…" I hesitated. I didn't want to use the word punish. Even the word brought illicit images of Pavel forcing me to bend over a table as he strapped me with his belt like a misbehaving child. "Did he…get mad?"
Nadia bumped Marina's shoulder with her own then winked. "I think he was way more pissed off when she ditched him and returned to Chicago in the middle of their honeymoon."
Marina winked back. "He got my point, didn't he? At least I didn't try screaming the rafters down in the church like Viktoria."
I blinked and turned in my dress, which earned me a pinch from Yelena. "Eyes forward."
Viktoria passed out the champagne flutes. "Artem wouldn't know what to do with himself if I quietly did what I was told."
They all laughed.
What. The. Fuck.
It was like I'd stumbled into some parallel universe.
These women were joking about provoking their incredibly violent and terrifying husbands.
Even the idea of disobeying Pavel made me want to break out in hives.
"I wasn't even given a warning about my wedding," Samara added with a laugh that seemed genuine despite the horrifying circumstances. "Gregor just announced we were getting married after he practically kidnapped me onto his private plane. The officiant was waiting for us when we landed."
"At least you weren't carried down the aisle in an old pair of jeans and a T-shirt like a sack of potatoes while he threatened the priest," Viktoria chimed in, her eyes dancing with mischief.
Samara gestured with her champagne flute as she laughed. "That poor priest's face every time you kept answering NEVER to all his vow questions."
The sound grated against my nerves, highlighting just how alone I felt in my terror.
Jesus Christ. It just kept getting worse and worse.