Page 117 of Sweet Animosity

Fuck…. the man was literally a Mongolian Russian who owned a horse farm, who was trying to protect me from a bunch of angry rival mafia syndicates.

I leaned my head on my hands as I stared at my reflection in the mirror.

Crap.

Var was quite literally my white knight on a fiery steed.

This type of thinking was dangerous.

I was supposed to be coming up with an escape plan.

Not talking myself into marrying the dangerous Russian Mafia boss I only met a week ago.

I swiped my hand over the counter, sending several makeup items skittering across the smooth surface before rising. Stomping out of the room, I put on the white lace corset and matching panties before moving over to the rack.

Not wanting to choose something too perfect for me, since that would imply I’d chosen my perfect wedding gown for the occasion, I selected a simple Vera Wang. It wasn’t like I had a choice. There were no other clothes in the room.

Just as I was reaching behind me to zip it up, Var walked into the room.

Without knocking.

His warm hands covered mine. “Let me.”

I bit my lip to keep from reacting to his knuckles caressing my spine as he zipped the dress up.

Turning my head slightly, I asked over my shoulder, “Isn’t it supposed to be bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the wedding?”

He leaned down and kissed my bare shoulder. “Since you just called me the groom and acknowledged our wedding, I’ll take it as a good luck sign.”

I turned to face him. “Don’t get too cocky. I have every intention of shouting at the top of my lungs ‘I do not’ the moment I’m asked.”

He offered his arm. “I wouldn’t expect anything less from you, krasivaya.”

As we exited the room, he reached over and touched the diamond necklace. “I’m glad you approve.”

My hand went to my neck. Dammit. I’d forgotten to take it off. “It means nothing.”

“It means everything.”

We slowly walked down the long penthouse hallway. At the end, backlit in front of the massive living room windows, I could see a man in a judge’s robe.

Holy shit.

This was real.

Like real real.

The corset tightened around my ribcage as I struggled to take a deep breath. My cheeks burned as panic washed over me in a wave.

Then I saw it.

On the entryway table just ahead of us.

The holster with Var’s gun.

Out of the corner of my eye, I glanced at Var.

He was so tall and handsome and confident… and arrogant and cocksure of his control over me.

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