Page 58 of Owned Bratva Bride
“Congratulations.”
“I’m sure he told you guys about the logistics of the marriage thing,” I remarked, finally looking up from my phone.
“He didn’t tell us anything more. Boss isn’t a man of many words.”
“I noticed.”
“Also, he said to inform you about your wedding shopping today.”
“I’m going shopping?”
“Not exactly. The shops are coming to you. This afternoon.”
***
As promised, the shops did come home to me. Well, not just shops. A room I hadn’t entered before today was filled with rows of hangers, from wedding dresses to silk underwear.
“Don’t check the price tag,” was Agatha’s mantra as she ushered me in and out of different dresses.
The two pretty women who certainly worked with whichever designer store Eduard had consulted were nice. But that didn’t make it any easier for me to make a choice.
I had been aloof about the whole preparation since it wasn’t particularly a conventional marriage. I wasn’t getting tied to a man who made me feel crazy with happiness. I was getting married to my captor-turned-savior. But then, it was still my damn wedding.
I had been given the chance to buy an expensive wedding dress; I’d do just that.
All the wedding dresses they brought were around my size, so I had too many fitting options to choose from.
Eventually, to Agatha’s mild dismay and one of the women’s disapproval for not being classic enough, I decided on my wedding dress.
It was a not-so-simple lace dress with sheer sleeves and a full, flared skirt that flowed out from the cinched waist. The sweetheart neckline showed just a hint of cleavage and was decorated with tiny silver stones. It perfectly matched my situation—a dress that radiated luxury without the long train typical of traditional dresses.
After picking underwear, including some for Agatha and Sofia, and two pairs of heels, we were done with the long shopping process.
As I resigned to bed that night, I wanted to share the not-exactly-good news with Kat. But I, of all people, knew she was incommunicado in Spain in order to enjoy every bit of the vacation.
I had no idea how to react to the whole marriage. I didn’t know if Eduard's scarcity helped or worsened my situation. I knew I had broken his composure once or twice, but that didn’t necessarily mean attraction. And I’ve heard it countless times that attraction didn’t mean the same thing as liking someone, let alone loving them.
So, what will this marriage look like?
On a more twisted level, what I really wondered about was what it would feel like to be his. When I thought of what it would mean to be his wife, I felt something like anticipation.
Chapter 12 – Eduard
My wife-to-be.
I couldn’t deny it to myself: Calling Marielle that was…pleasant.
So was watching her frown morph into a temporary smile when I addressed her as such when our path crossed on the wedding morning.
I rode with my men while she met us at the courthouse with Agatha. Agatha’s plea—which she made known through Viktor—wasn’t why I allowed her to come to the courthouse. Seeing that she and Marielle were pretty close, I reckoned it would make her feel less alone.
It took all my years of self-control not to walk over to her when Ruslan opened the back door and she stepped outside.
If she was beautiful before, she looked breathtaking this morning. And it wasn’t because of the beautiful white dress that accentuated her tiny waist or how her golden blonde hair was styled into an intricate bun with white pins around it.
It was her unsmiling face. Her slight frown was still evident, but she looked even more attractive as she looked around, as if wondering what would happen next.
“You look absolutely beautiful,” I complimented when she got to the front of the courthouse where I stood.
