Page 16 of Knocked Up By the Russian

"No," she whispered, and his heart broke at the despair in her tone.

Touching her face softly, Ivan sighed. "Come inside. Marry me. It's probably not the most romantic proposal, but if you stick it out, I'll make you a deal."

Her eyes met his, makeup smeared in the corner, but she still looked beautiful. "What deal?"

The words spilled out without his bidding, and Ivan regretted it almost instantly, but he couldn't regret the relief inher eyes, even if it tore him apart to see it. "Six months. Let us get rid of the threat, and you can divorce me in six months. I won't even make a fuss if you decide to work for someone else."

Unless she changes her mind.

"Deal," Amy replied without hesitation, just like he knew she would.

"Good girl." He stepped back, waiting for her to get out.

Chapter 7 - Amy

It was supposed to be bad luck to see the bride in her dress before the wedding, but Amy didn't feel like a bride as she let Ivan help her out of Zia's car. She felt like a fraud in a very expensive gown and hated how she loved the shape and feel of the silk dress Madam Purrit had made for her. The underdress was pale lilac silk that hugged her curves and flared at the bottom. Above it, white lace decorated the dress sparingly in a floral design that made her feel like a fairy princess. It had a sweetheart neckline and cut-out sleeves that met at her shoulders, her elbows, and her wrists. It wasn't really anything she would've thought to get married in, but she'd fallen in love with the design the moment the sweet, older woman suggested it.

"You look beautiful," Ivan murmured, snapping her out of her thoughts as he escorted her back to her suite. He'd booked a couple of rooms specifically for them to get ready, and also so that Mira and Zia had somewhere they could take the kids to if things got too stressful. She wouldn't admit it, but Amy had actually listened while he'd been planning it all. Ignoring him was a hell of a lot harder than she'd like it to be.

Pulling her attention from hotel guests staring at her, Amy smiled for the first time in over a week. "You're just saying that because you know we'll be a married couple tomorrow."

Ivan frowned, and while she hadn't said anything, he cleaned up nicely—more so even in that dashing black-on-black suit. "No, I'm saying it because I mean it. You look beautiful, Mishka."

Hearing her nickname, Amy ignored the way her heart fluttered. So what if he hadn't said it in several days? It wasn't special—just another name like "babe" or "honey."

Instead of continuing their argument, Amy shrugged and thanked him. She'd gotten a way out, even if it meant waiting the six months it took for him to get rid of the threat on her life.

They reached the door to her suite in a couple of minutes, and Ivan left her as soon as she knocked. Watching him go, her heart thudded in her chest as the door swung wide open.

"Amy!" Zia hissed, looking around the hallway, curlers in her hair. "What were you thinking? The ceremony starts in like fifteen minutes!"

Fifteen minutes.Amy let out a bark of laughter. It still didn't feel real.

"Amy?" her best friend called, suddenly looking worried. "Are you okay?"

"I don't know," she answered truthfully, and Zia snorted as she grabbed her hand.

"Yeah, well neither was I. Move your butt, we've got so much to do, but if you hurry, then we can both sneak a glass of champagne before you walk down the aisle."

***

Three glasses of champagne later, Amy was clutching Mikhail's arm as she waited for her turn to walk down the dark purple crushed velvet carpet. The Pakhan gave her a small smile that she ignored in favor of staring around her. This... was not what she'd expected from Ivan. Sunlight filtered in through the hotel's skylight windows and onto the chandelier,casting sparkling reflections across the guests and decorations. It looked like something out of a fairytale; there was even a complimentary flowered arch waiting at the end of the carpet.

How the hell had he come up with this on such short notice? Maybe it was foolish, but she'd thought marrying Ivan wouldn’t be much more than a shotgun wedding—signing papers and getting a silver or gold ring as her own littleparty favor. This was nothing like she'd imagined it. For one, she actually liked it. More so, though she'd rather die than admit that.

Ahead of her, her little sister Ava walked with a bright, beaming smile, and a few paces behind her were Mira, then Zia. Her bridesmaids wore A-line dresses the color of Amy's heirloom amethyst earrings, each of them carrying a bouquet of purple wildflowers, like her own, with blooms she hadn't ever seen in a flower shop before. Amy recognized dahlias, foxglove, and violets, but the rest were foreign.

"Are you ready?" Mikhail, her soon-to-be brother-in-law, murmured, and Amy just stopped herself from scoffing, scared he might think it was disrespectful.

Ready? For this? No.Her heart pounded. She didn't think she'd ever be ready for this charade—but they had no choice. Her family stood in the front row; she had to keep them safe. There was no possible way she'd ever be ready for this, but here she was.

The time came for her to walk, and she straightened her shoulders. Scarred, tattooed men with guns stared at her when she passed, and Amy's mother's grin grew impossibly brighter. While this might have been a day that Amy had been dreading for the past week, her mother looked like she was on the vergeof tears—happy tears, as if she'd never in her wildest dreams thought her daughter would be here.

Well, I didn't either, she thought to herself. Her fingernails dug into the Pakhan's arm, yet he didn't flinch, and somehow that made her feel better. It was as if she wasn't falling apart inside her mind.

With her focus on the man waiting at the flowered arch, Amy walked. Ivan stood there in his tailored black-on-black suit, tattoos curling above his collar. He might have made this look like a fairytale, but that didn’t make him her knight in shining armor. How the hell had he designed everything? It looked like something she'd put on her Pinterest board back when she still believed in things like love at first sight.

Her bridesmaids stopped a few paces from Ivan and turned to look at her with encouraging smiles that Amy ignored. She walked down the aisle to the soft, lilting tune of a harp. The harpist seated on the far right in a green dress, flowers woven into her hair. It must have been part of the theme because all the women she'd seen so far had flowers clipped to their hair. All the decorations seemed to echo the same theme—ribbons and flowers. While teenage Amy would have gone wild with the colors and designs, whoever Ivan had worked with managed it all rather tastefully. It was so well done that she had a slight suspicion that Mira and Zia might have been more involved than she'd thought. Especially with the flowers, those had to have been from Zia's little flower shop.

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