Page 90 of Brutal Promise

Now, we’re a couple, a real couple who can speak their mind to each other and share our inner thoughts without being guarded. It’s a significant change for both of us. I’m elated that I don’t have to lie to his family. I’ve fallen in love with my beast.

Dmitry’s dress shoes echo with my heels as we walk to the front door. He slides my arm through his and opens my car door, tucking me safely inside.

We arrive at 34 Mayfair, and I’m surprised to find we’re eating in the trendiest restaurant in London as it’s crowded. The entrance to the establishment is lined with tea tree roses that are beginning to bud.

“I hear movie stars come here,” he whispers as men with top hats greet us at the door and take out coats. “We have a private room,” he says and leads the way with our guards behind us.

“Are they going, too?”

“Sure, why not? They will be at the doors and escort you to the bathroom. We can’t be too careful.” He drops his voice. “Now more than ever.”

I happen to agree.

I approach the sizeable, long table. I find Alena amid the sea of new faces. She jumps up and rushes to me.

“Oh, my God, it’s so great to see you,” she exclaims. She’s dressed in a pricey dress and is wearing diamonds. Dmitry is greeting Kirill.

“You look amazing.” She smiles and whispers, “I won’t say a thing about y’know.”

“I missed you so much.” I squeeze her tight.

“I know. Are you excited?”

“Yes.”

She moves politely to the side so I can greet Dmitry’s family.

Anya is next. We hug. “You met Alena?”

“Yes, she’s great. Are you ready for your big day?

“As ready as ever, I assume.”

Kirill jets over to me and hugs me, then tells me Alena misses me, and they hope we return to New York City.

“I hope we do, too.” I miss home and my best friend.

Anya leads me to her husband, and I notice he and Dmitry have the same nose.

“Welcome.” He gives me a hearty hug. I move on to the man next to him. It must be his younger brother.

“Izzy, great to meet you.” I put my hand out.

“You, too. I’m Roman.” He shakes my hand, and I notice he’s taller than his brother, with darker hair and a wider face.

Dmitry slides his hand around my waist, gives Roman his hand, and then pulls him into his chest in a half hug.

“Brother, how are you doing?” Dmitry questions Roman. “I hear you’re holding down the fort in Russia.?

“I try.” He gives his brother a nod.

Roman speaks to him in Russian, so I turn to the woman, who must be Natasha.

She’s regal, with high cheekbones wearing a black evening dress with a high neckline. Her hair is in an updo, and she clasps my hand.

“So nice to meet you, Izzy.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Volkov.”

---