Page 55 of Brutal Promise

“They will. Keep your chin up, girlfriend. You need to remain positive. I’m sure his family will love you.”

The idea of faking the marriage and lying to his family gives me a sinking feeling in my gut. It’s deceitful, and I value honesty above all else, which brings me back to my mother. Was she honest with me and Aunt Emma? I brush this off as Dmitry hangs up the phone and announces that we are leaving in a few minutes.

I’ve never taken the time to visit the gardens. It’s more of a tourist attraction, in my opinion, and because of that, it will get busier now that the weather is warming up.

As if on cue, Alena yawns and says her mother is calling her. “Gotta go,” she adds. I say bye, and we hang up.

Dmitry waits for me in the doorway.

“Coming,” I say as I grab a purse and transfer items from last night’s clutch before following Dmitry to the car.

Anton drives us to the Channel Garden and pulls up in front of a door that reads Staff Only. None of us work here, and yet someone on the other side opens the door and lets us in.

Dmitry looks comfortable in his jeans and a button-down dress shirt. Taking my hand, we slowly stroll along the walkway, enjoying the blooming spring flowers. The kaleidoscope of colors is breathtaking, and I comment on the waterfall, and we pause under arches covered with tea roses. I wonder how long it takes for everything to grow. To be this perfect, there must be greenhouses and minions of gardeners behind the scenes.

“It’s time for lunch, let’s grab a bite from a street vendor, and we’ll head home.”

“Okay.” I follow him and notice Anton. He and another man are following us, keeping a watchful eye on the people around us.

“Are we safe here?”

“As much as we can be. He reaches for my hand and surprises me when he pulls it to his lips and kisses the engagement ring.

“Tonight will be fun. Relax.”

“How do you know so many people to arrange all this?”

“Years in the making. My father was a powerful man and traveled internationally. In fact, we have a house on Long Island, but we’re not using it because it’s too far away. I wanted to be in the city this week.”

It’s only a train ride, but I see his point.

* * *

Back at the condo,Dmitry has a glam squad drop by. One girl does my updo, and the other does my makeup. When I take one last look in the mirror, I don’t recognize myself. My skin is flawless. My eyes pop, the gown is stunning, and I look fabulous. I inhale deeply to fill my lungs with air and calm myself. I’m going to the MET. I’m filled with excitement as I never dreamed this would happen to me, and to have the handsome Russian escorting me is icing on the cake.

Dmitry catches me fussing with my hair, making sure it’s not falling out of the bun.

“Stop fidgeting, Izzy, you’re beautiful. I don’t care if a hair falls out of place. Nothing diminishes how gorgeous you are.”

“I’m nervous.” I fidget with the fabric of the dress, then decide to grab my new matching clutch from the counter.

“I’d be shocked if you weren’t. Nothing to it. If anyone asks, we met through friends, fell in love, and decided to get married.”

“Got it.”

“Let’s go.” He opens the door, and we take the elevator to the parking garage, where Anton is waiting for us in a limo.

There’s chilled champagne, and Dmitry pours us each a glass of bubbly. This is my first time riding in a limo, and I take the glass from Dmitry. It will suffice to calm my nerves. I never knew what I missed out on with my senior prom until now. It was the talk of the town when the star quarterback and his girlfriend arrived in one for prom. I went with a girlfriend, and there was no limo for us.

“You’re so beautiful. Happy engagement,” he says as I hold the stem between my thumb and two fingers.

I have no idea what to say and nod.

We touch flutes. I quickly sip the golden alcohol. When we finish our cocktails, I put the flute down. I can’t drink much without it going to my head and decide to err on the side of caution.

The closer we get to the MET, the worse the traffic becomes. At some point, we join a long line of limousines and continue to inch forward. I crane my neck to see who’s getting out of the cars ahead of us. Some people look familiar, but most don’t because I’ve been busy with school, and I’m no longer up with the who’s who in Hollywood.

It’s our turn to get out, and I’m terrified I’ll fall on my face. My mouth is bone dry, and I want to vomit. Dmitry senses my panic and squeezes my hand. I look down and notice he wore cuff links with rubies to match my red dress. Men with earpieces open the car doors. They’re probably security or event coordinators.

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