Page 24 of The Bratva's Forced Kidnapped Bride
The fact that I was able to learn so much was worrisome, especially coupled with that promise of his that I wouldn’t be alive on our first wedding anniversary. I couldn’t rest on my laurels, believing that I might make it that long, because if Anatoli truly meant to kill me, he might do it whenever he grew bored with whatever bizarre game he was playing with me.
I couldn’t let that happen. It was time to turn up the heat.
Chapter 18 - Anatoli
It was the afternoon before the big party, and I was in the worst meeting yet with Leonid, Miron, and the other high-ranking elders. They were torn between joining forces with the Collective or risking war with them. I had already gathered enough intel on them to go either way, and while I tended to lean towards staying independent, I was biding my time.
Miron wanted to join forces, pushing hard because, unlike my other uncle, he didn’t relish the responsibilities of leadership and wanted to rest easy with a strong ally instead of a strong foe. For some reason, I still hadn’t worked out yet, Leonid was pushing the ridiculous idea of liquidating a remarkable amount of our assets and just giving it to Konstantin’s widow.
I was sick of going around in circles and put my foot down, telling them not to act on anything until I made my final decision. That started a tirade, neither of them happy.
“You need to be more like your brother was,” Leonid said.
Even Miron, who was more on my side than Leonid’s, saw Konstantin as forceful and decisive. I saw him as reactive and rash. That was what got him killed. That and cheating every other person who crossed his path.
“I don’t think so,” I disagreed. I was sick of the arguments and left them to squabble among themselves.
At the apartment, I found Masha with her hair done in an elaborate updo, just putting the finishing touches on her dramatic makeup. I liked her best when she was natural, but the effect of the glamorous hair and makeup while she still wore baby blue fleece pajamas was shockingly cute.
I had to laugh, because cute was a word I never believed I’d assign to my ruthless wife.
“What?” she asked, patting at her hair, which was utterly perfect. “Is something not right?”
She seemed nervous, staring balefully at her reflection in the mirror, then looking to me to see what had made me chuckle.
“Don’t start tearing it out, you look amazing,” I said.
She sighed and nodded, accepting the compliment, but still looking on edge. “You can’t be nervous about tonight,” I said. “You’ve already met almost everyone, and they’re all under your spell.”
She grimaced at me, then sighed again. After a little prodding, I finally got her to admit she had learned there would be dancing.
“I’m not good at that,” she said disgustedly, as if she should somehow excel at every last thing in the world.
“You did fine at Josef’s bar,” I reminded her.
Stomping over to where her golden gown hung, she swept aside the hem to reveal the spindly gold high heels that matched the dress. “That was in flat shoes, and you were mostly just flinging me around to the music. Tonight is formal ballroom dancing.”
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” I said.
“Are you kidding? And risk hurting all those uncles of yours when I decline their invitations? And Nadia said people will want to toast us and expect us to dance together since they didn’t get to go to our wedding.”
Her scowl couldn’t have gotten darker at the mention of the wedding, which hadn’t exactly involved any dancing. Ishrugged, not knowing what else I could do to ease her mind, because she was determined not to believe that no one cared if she stumbled or not.
“Can you…” she bit her lip, as if the words didn’t want to come out. “Can you help me practice a little? So I can make a good impression?”
Embarrassed by having to ask a favor, she kept her head down while she put the high heels on. She looked even sillier and cuter now, and my hands reached for her of their own accord. I snapped them back to my sides.
“Why do you care so much?” I asked.
She looked at me, stunned. “Because I always do my best, that’s why.”
“Even for me?”
“Even for you,” she told me, putting her hands on my chest. “When it’s my mission.”
Her eyes seemed even bigger with all the smoky makeup around them, and I wasn’t immune to her blinking up at me or the timid smile she gave me.
Timid? Not a chance in hell. “I imagine you walking into a firefight without hesitation, and here you are worried about a little dancing?”
