Page 31 of Debt to the Mafia King
“And do you think that matters?” Her voice grew hard. “You have so much to learn about how things work, Leah. Manda is a royal pain in the ass, and Viktor is done with her.” Finally, she met my eyes. “But that doesn’t mean you get to talk to her that way or make a scene in front of his people. There are certain,” she sighed, “appearances to be kept up. You broke the rules. Breaking the rules is dangerous here.”
Why did it sound like she wanted to tell me something? I finished the glass with a single gulp. “So he can sleep with anyone he wants to, but I can’t? I can’t even leave my room unless I am dressed.”
“You’re going to be his wife.” She gripped my chin. “That is more than any other woman has got from him. He chose you.” Her voice softened. “He chose you because you are not like those women. So be the woman he picked. Be sweet, be accommodating, be—”
“A total pushover?” I finished for her with a shake of my head. “Submissive.”
“If that is what it takes to keep you alive, then yes, Leah.” Reaching for the vanity, she found some concealer and began expertly blending it into my throat.
I watched in the mirror as she worked. “Would he really kill me if I didn’t act like the perfect wife?” I asked in a shaky whisper.
She didn’t answer me at first. “He doesn’t take disobedience or disloyalty lightly,” she said finally. “Remember that. Be the wife he needs and get out of this alive and a rich woman.”
I stared at her. She knew the truth. She knew this was just a business deal. “He told you.”
“Yes.”
“Just how do you—”
“I have never been his lover, Leah.” Her eyes crinkled with laughter. “I was with his late mother when she came over from England. When she died. I was kept on to look after her son. I’ve been like a mother to Viktor since he was eight years old.”
Open-mouthed, I stared at her. In just a few seconds, she had told me more about Viktor than he had in the days I had known him. It just went to prove I didn’t know him at all. And yet I was about to marry him.
“I’ll call the others in now so you can finish getting ready.” Her fingers slid against my cheek. “You are allowed one more glass of champagne, but no more than that. I don’t want you falling down the aisle. Oh, and Leah?”
I lifted my eyes to her.
“Please don’t make him angry again. I don’t want you to see that side of him. I want you to see the good—”
She didn’t have a chance to say anything as the door opened, and the women poured back in.
For the next two hours, I was prodded and painted until the woman looking back at me from the mirror wasn’t me at all. I didn’t even recognize myself, as the satin designer shoes were slipped onto my feet and the final adjustments were made.
“You are done.” The women stepped back, smiling at themselves like they had made a swan out of an ugly duckling. And I had to admit I looked good. I just didn’t look like me anymore.
“So what now?” I asked because no one had actually told me a thing.
“You get married.” They swarmed out. And a man stepped in with a bow of his head. He was a tall, blond, and fresh-faced boy with a next-door face. He looked out of place here, he should have been playing football and taking his sweetheart to the movies, not running around with the Bratva.
“Good morning, Mrs. Petrov,” he said with not a trace of Russian in his voice at all.
I blinked in shock. Was that Viktor’s last name? Petrov?
“I’m not married yet,” I said quickly. “You should call me, Leah.”
The smile on his face slipped just a millimeter before he fixed it firmly to his lips again. “I can’t do that, Mrs. Petrov. I’m Stephen. Mr. Petrov has asked me to escort you today and look after you when he isn’t around.”
“You’re my guard.” My voice was completely flat.
“Bodyguard.” He offered his arm, and I took it reluctantly. “I’ll be the one to make sure nothing happens to you.”
Except things were happening to me. Confusing things. All of them I had no control over. Things were all happening too quickly.
Letting him lead me down the stairs and into the back of the waiting car, I didn’t say a word, and neither did he. But he did keep looking at me out of the corner of his eyes like he was scared I would bolt at any second, even if the car was moving. Viktor had probably told him what had happened yesterday.
“I hope you don’t mind me saying, but you really do look the perfect bride.”
Ignoring him, I stared out of the window as the car sped along. Perfect bride. Maybe I did look like one. But there was not one ounce of happiness in my body. Brides were meant to be happy, weren’t they? They were meant to be in love and—”
