Page 48 of Sadistic

Njal's still sedated.

The dress fitting went smoothly.

Vadim tells me Revna laughed more than he's ever seen her laugh.

I’m just glad she's had a good time with my mother and sister, and that we might be turning a new leaf.

I pull up outside the clubhouse but don't get out.

Through the windows, I can see movement—my mother's auburn hair, Rhiannon gesturing animatedly, other figures moving in and out of view.

Normal. Domestic. Safe.

My phone rings—Mikhail.

"We need to increase security for the wedding," I tell him right off the bat. "Reyes will have eyes on us from the moment he lands."

"Already on it. How many additional men?"

"Double what we planned. Triple the surveillance on the venue." I watch as someone—Revna?—passes by a window. "And Mikhail? Start a file on Bembe Reyes. Everything. Family,associates, weaknesses. If he so much as looks at her wrong at that wedding..."

"Understood."

I end the call and sit there another moment, engine running.

Inside that clubhouse, my future wife is bonding with my family, trying on dresses, living a moment of normalcy.

Out here, I'm planning for war.

Two weeks to keep both worlds balanced.

Two weeks to keep her alive.

I drive away without going in.

Some moments aren't mine to interrupt—but I'll make damn sure she survives to have more of them.

CHAPTER FIVE

Revna

The "fitting room" is actually just a storage room someone cleared out an hour ago, with a large window that looks out onto the street in front of the club.

It still smells like fried food and oil, and I'm pretty sure that's a carburetor in the corner they forgot to move.

The single bulb hanging from the ceiling casts harsh shadows that make everyone look tired, which maybe we are.

"Arms up," Greer commands, and I obey, letting her slip dress number three over my head.

The fabric whispers against my skin, expensive and delicate in a way that feels foreign.

It's beautiful—everything she's brought is beautiful—but trying on wedding dresses in a glorified closet while bikes rumble outside isn't exactly the fairy tale experience little girls dream about.

Not that I ever dreamed about weddings.

I have always been too practical for that, even as a kid.

Too aware of what marriage meant in our world—alliances and protection, duty and sacrifice.

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