Page 40 of Brutal Promise

Shit.When he eventually whisks me away to a different country, I can't use it as a justification to delay us.

“I’m serious about not going to Russia.” I try to argue, but I’m too relaxed and realize I’ve never felt this Zen before. Endorphins, no doubt.

“That’s not an answer.”

“Well, you’re smart. You figure it out.” I sip more wine.

“Money.”

I nod and curl my legs under me.

He nods and sits upright before leaning over his long legs.

“What did you want to do for your career?”

“I thought Broadway shows, fashion magazines, anything to pay off my student loans.”

“Alright.” He leans back, satisfied with my answer. “It will come in handy, your education.”

“What do you mean?”

“We will have a huge wedding in London. You need to meet my family to make it official. Then we’ll let the society pages work for us, places like Page Six.”

“Look, we’ve been holed up here, and nothing bad has happened,” I say as if there’s nothing to worry about.

“Don’t let the calm fool you. That’s how everyone feels before the storm.”

“Great, you’re a poet now.”

“No.” He retreats into his thoughts, and just when I wonder if he’s going to shut down, he breaks the silence. “Alena will help you pick out a new wardrobe.”

“I can’t look like her,” I protest.

“I don’t want you to. You’re gorgeous and perfect as you are. I don’t want a wife who’s trying to be someone she’s not. I can buy glitz and glamour. Only a woman who is beautiful both inside and out can be…you.”

I scoff.

“What? Is that funny?”

“Yes, considering we’re here because we don’t know who I am. How do you know I’m a good person?”

A brief smile passes over his beautiful lips. “I see your point.” He swirls the red liquid in his glass. “While I work with Kirill in the morning, you will go with Alena to shop for adequate clothing. She knows what you need. Two of Kirill’s best guards will accompany you everywhere. No running away, no fucking around. Is that clear?”

“Yes.” I agree because he’s making it clear that there will be consequences if I disobey.

My heart soars at the idea of shopping, then drops at the thought of a wedding. Wedding ceremonies are about the bride and groom being surrounded by family and friends. It’s a joyous occasion, but I’m not in a joyous mood. I’m not in love, nor is Dmitry. Plus, I’m being stalked, and two men are dead because of me.

“We’ll need a marriage license. We’ll do a quick wedding at city hall and fly to London for the big official wedding.”

“Wait! So soon?”

“Do you have a death wish?” His dark eyes question my sanity.

“Well…” When he puts it like that, I don’t have a choice.

“I don’t think you do, my dear Isabella.”

Damn, he’s right. There’s an inherent human condition known as survival, and for now, marrying this brooding beast, who professes to be my human shield, is the only way to survive.

---