Page 2 of The Pakhan's Forced Bride
I head around the corner towards an ornate wooden door that saysladies.
I smile and step aside as a pretty girl walks out of the powder room. She smiles back at me and says, “I love your dress.”
“Thanks.” I smile even wider. At least she’s polite and sweet.
My date hasn’t made one nice comment.
Inside the ladies' room, I walk past the rows of cubicles. I don’t even need to pee. I just needed a break from that moron I’m on a date with.
I slide my phone out of my purse and send a text to my brother.
Me: Mom did it again. She set me up with another douchebag. This one is so bad, I can’t even say the visit to my favorite restaurant made it worth it.
Benedikt: Dammit. That mother of ours really never gives up. Do you want me to come and fetch you? I can pretend it was an emergency.
I giggle. My brother is always willing to help. He’s my safe place in this world. He’s always looking out for me. And between the two of us, I think we only survived the eccentric onslaught of my mother’s chaos because we stuck together. He understands me.
He’s taught me a lot about the bratva life while also keeping me safe and making sure I have everything I've ever needed in life.
He’s the best brother I could have asked for.
Me: No, it’s okay. I’ll suffer through it, but this really has to stop. This is the fifth date this month. It’s like she's on a warpath to get me married ASAP. Can you talk to her?
Benedikt: I’ll take her out to lunch this week and have a word with her. You know she still does her own thing, though, right? We might have to come up with another way to get you out of these blind dates.
Me: At this point, I’m willing to run away and join the circus if it means I don’t have to go on another of these.
Benedikt: Haha. Let’s not have you running away just yet. Let me know if you change your mind about wanting to be rescued. I’ll happily come get you.
I slide my phone back into my purse and set it down on the marble countertop next to the sink.
There is a massive mirror covering the entire wall above the sink, and when I look up into it I see myself—a pretty girl with bright blue eyes and long, light brown hair. Sure, she’s curvy, not the stereotypical standard of what society wants to call beautiful, but when she smiles, she’s confident.
And most importantly, she’s happy with herself.
That’s me.
I smile at my own reflection.
The black dress I’m wearing is long, right down to the floor. It hugs over my body, the glittering sequins hand-stitched onto the velvet material accentuate the curves of my body. My rather voluptuous breasts fill the top of the dress, and the cute, bubble-like heart-shaped pendant hanging on my chest sparkles in the soft bathroom lighting; it seems counterintuitive to wear a heart pendant on a blind date, but I love it. It was a gift from Ulyana for my birthday this year.
That girl is like a sister to me. She’s amazing. Tomorrow we’ll go for coffee and laugh until we cry when I tell her how badly this date went.
Ugh. I have to go back out there.
I don’t care if that asshole doesn’t find me attractive. Or any of the assholes I’ve been on dates with lately.I don’t even want a husband.
I roll my eyes for the tenth time this evening. It’s becoming a bad habit. I should stop doing that.
Dipping my hand into my purse, I wiggle it around until I find my lipstick. Deep red.
Taking my time, I reapply it, carefully tracing the outline of my heart-shaped lips. With the red painted on them, they look even more cupid-like.
I smile at myself again.
Fuck that guy, you're beautiful.
Despite being happy in my own skin, his comments still sting. It’s just mean. I don’t get why people think they have a right to be so blatantly mean.
