Page 54 of Betrayal and Vows

What they don’t see is the woman on the inside that’s struggling to draw breath in the dress that’s too tight. My shoes are killing my toes. The makeup feels like it’s choking out my pores.

I absently play with the bracelet on my wrist. It’s one of the only real things I own. My grandmother had given it to me before she died. It’s worth little in a monetary sense, but it’s special to me.

It’s the only thing I wear that didn’t come from the Orlovs. My earrings and necklace were delivered to my room earlier. It’s all about flaunting their wealth. Making sure everyone in the room knows I belong to the Bratva.

I feel the bracelet give. The clasp needs to be replaced but I keep putting it off. I’m afraid to take it to the jeweler. What if I don’t get it back? What if they lose it?

I move to retrieve it, but someone is faster.

Anton.

He’s always close now.

Always watching.

I barely see him approach but suddenly, he’s kneeling beside me, fingers curling around the delicate gold.

Our hands meet for exactly three seconds. It’s nothing more than our fingertips brushing.

But it feels like he’s caressing my flesh.

His jaw muscle tightens. I watch it clench, hard and fast, like he’s angry at himself for touching me. Or maybe just angry that he felt it too.

He hands it to me and then fades away.

I knew he was near, but I hadn’t seen him since I sat down.

There’s comfort knowing he is around.

Comfort and more stress than what is healthy. Because he told me I couldn’t look at him like I wanted to climb him. I’m trying not to but he’s just… hot.

I reach for the champagne glass and happen to glance up and see my mother watching me.

Her eyes narrow. She sees everything. Of course she does. I give her a bright smile before taking a sip from my glass.

After the meal is over, the guests migrate to the garden. I follow dutifully, my heels clicking against the marble floor before sinking slightly into the soft grass. The violinist sits beneath a white pavilion, her bow dancing across the strings in a melody that's supposed to be romantic but sounds full of melancholy to my ears.

Waiters are there with more champagne. It’s not even noon and the alcohol is flowing. After one, the champagne will be switched out for vodka.

It’s not a bad idea. Maybe I can just be drunk for the next two weeks. Once I’m married, I plan on staying drunk.

"Lena, darling!" Mrs. Baranov approaches with her arms outstretched. She's the wife of one of Vadim's business partners. And I hate her. And her nasty daughter. "You look absolutely radiant."

"Thank you," I say, accepting her air kisses. "You look lovely as well."

She beams and launches into a story about her daughter's recent engagement. I nod and smile at all the right moments, but my eyes keep scanning the garden.Where is he?

A group of younger women cluster near the fountain. I excuse myself from Mrs. Baranov and drift toward them, playing my part. The perfect bride-to-be. Happy and carefree.

"Lena!" Katya waves me over. "We were just talking about honeymoon destinations. Where are you and Mikhail going?"

"Italy," I lie smoothly. I have no idea where we're going. Or if we're going anywhere at all. "The Amalfi Coast."

They all sigh appreciatively and pepper me with questions about wedding details. I answer automatically, my attention divided. Still no sign of Anton.

The champagne from brunch sits heavy in my stomach. I need a moment. Just one moment away from all these watching eyes.

"Excuse me," I say to the group. "I need to powder my nose."