Page 41 of The Brutal Arrangement

How long will I need to be here and stay married?

I exhaled a shaky breath, almost as if facing myself was like owning up to how unwise and naïve I had been to go along with Katerina’s idea to swap in this marriage.

Out in the other room, I heard the door open.

“Katerina?”

I’d only known my husband for less than a full day, but I knew his voice. He was that familiar already. His deep, raspy growls in my ears were what I learned him by. That and the angry statements and orders he’d given me.

And as I stared at myself in the mirror, I knew the moment I’d been dreading, the one I was truly terrified of, was upon me.

Iwasn’tKaterina.

Iwashis wife.

But I wasn’t the woman he’d been expecting.

The darkness and the veil had prolonged that secret last night.

Now, my time was up.

He’d see that I wasn’t Katerina Kozlov, and I feared how furious he would be.

16

DAMON

“Katerina.” I repeated her name, wondering where she could be hiding in here. There wasn’t any way out that she could’ve taken. No guard would permit her to leave or go against my orders to keep her in my apartment.

She didn’t show.

Instead of worrying that I’d lost her, I had to wonder if she was trying to hide as a show of defiance.

Or out of fear.

“Katerina.” That was the third and last time I’d try to summon her. It wasn’t like she could evade me forever. Only so many hiding spots were available in the apartment.

I don’t have time for this bullshit.Maxim glanced at me, raising his brows. I rolled my eyes.

“Come here,” I ordered as I entered further into my apartment, assuming that maybe she’d taken it to mean she had to stay in my bedroom only.

“Don’t tell me she’s gone already,” Maxim muttered as he walked with me.

“No. Of course not. How could she get out of here?” I asked as I shoved my bedroom door open. I didn’t blame him for assuming that so instantly, though. We knew Anton had sent her here as some kind of a trick.

But as we walked into my room where the bed was still messy from last night, my tie and her veil still strewn over the sheets, I spotted someone else exiting the bathroom.

Katerina wasn’t here.

Another woman peered at us nervously.

“Who the fuck are you?” I drew my gun just a second slower than Maxim did.

He, too, was focused on this stranger who squeaked in alarm and held her hands up. Wincing slightly, she ducked, as if that would save her from either of our bullets.

“What the hell is going on?” Maxim ordered.

I stared, doubting my eyes. If this was an optical illusion, it was a damned good one. Because the slender brunette who froze at the threshold of the door to my bathroom looked a lot like my wife. Slight differences were more noticeable now as I took in the sight of her blue eyes, slightly damp and wavy brown hair, and the graceful curves of her figure. No matter how long I stared, she didn’t shift back into what I recalled of Katerina’s appearance.

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