Page 132 of Sadistic

Is it?

Ingrid really isn't a bitch, she’s just misunderstood:

It has to be. Otherwise what's the point?

I don't have an answer for that.

I lie back on the lumpy mattress, staring at the exposed beams above.

In a few hours, the sun will rise.

People will arrive to do my hair and makeup.

I'll put on that dress and those shoes.

I'll become Revna Volkolv.

But tonight, I'm just a woman who couldn't save someone she used to love from his own mind.

A woman who's choosing to marry into violence because the alternative is worse.

A woman who's hoping that somewhere in all this darkness, there's a chance for something real.

My eyes close eventually, exhaustion winning over my anxiety.

Tomorrow, everything changes.

Tonight, I just need to survive until morning.

The last thing I think before sleep takes me is that Doran will be waiting at the altar.

Whatever else he is—controlling, obsessive, dangerous—he'll be there.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Doran

The morning of my wedding day starts with Mikhail bursting into my suite at six in the morning, looking grim.

"Bembe's stable," he announces. "His crew is scattered but not gone. And we have a problem."

I finish buttoning my shirt, already knowing I won't like whatever comes next. "What kind of problem?"

"Someone leaked the venue location. We're seeing chatter online—not threats exactly, but interest. People want to see the Bratva prince marry the MC princess."

"Double the security," I order, reaching for my cufflinks. "Anyone not on the list doesn't get within a mile of the property."

"Already done." He pauses. "She's at the venue already. Arrived an hour ago with her sister and mother."

My hands still. She's there. She actually showed up.

The relief is overwhelming, though I keep my face neutral.

Part of me wondered if I'd be standing at that altar alone, humiliated in front of both our families.

"Good," I manage.

My penthouse fills with people over the next two hours.

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