Page 62 of Bratva Bride

“Happy wedding day, bitch!” Tatiana squealed, her face perfectly done with makeup and hair pristine. “Ah! I’m so excited! Let’s go, up! Up!” She yanked me out of bed by my arm and I stumbled, still half asleep.

She led me over to my ensuite and pushed me inside. “You’ve got ten minutes. We’re on a tight schedule.” Then she slammed the door shut.

I shook my head, stripped and jumped in the shower. Nerves riddled through me as I washed my hair and lathered my skin. I was beyond nervous. I was a fucking wreck. It felt like only yesterday that Arturo and I met and now I was getting ready to marry him! It was all happening so fast.

I knew arranged marriages were common in La Cosa Nostra, but for the Bratva? Not so much. Not unless it was a marriage that would significantly benefit those involved. I tried not to think about it, to think about how little we still knew about each other. The things I did know made me excited to be his wife. So, I focused on that.

Once I finished showering, I dried myself and put on the nice silk rob Tatiana had left for me. Sitting on the countertop was a glass of vodka and I sent a silent thank you to my best friend. I chugged it down like a shot, enjoying the slight burn as it travelled down my throat, and then left the bathroom.

Tatiana walked over to me, took my arm and guided me to a chair in the middle of the room that sat in front of a large mirror with numerous lights plastered all over it. She shoved me into the chair and clicked her fingers at the army of women behind her. “Alright, fix this,” she said, drawing a circle in the air around my hair. “And this.” She pointed to my face next and then walked away, leaving me at the mercy of the random women poking and prodding my body.

“Uhm, T,” I winced as my hair was getting brushed out rather vigorously.

“Ya girl?” she called out, running a handheld garment steamer over the bridesmaid dresses, completely oblivious to the pain I was in.

“Can’t I have breakfast first?”

She gasped, like what I said was complete blasphemy. “And risk you being bloated in your wedding dress? Absolutely not.” She walked over and grabbed her purse sitting on the bed and opened it, pulling out a bag of peanuts. “Have these.”

“Mmm, yum,” I mumbled sarcastically.

“Hey, if you don’t want them-” she reached out to take them back and I yanked them to my chest.

“I didn’t say that.”

She laughed and went back to steaming her dress. “Alright, so we gotta run through a couple things before we make our way downstairs.”

“Like what?” I asked, crunching on the nuts. Lucky for her, they were tasty.

“Well first, I have to warn you that I didn’t have any control over the guest list. Your father handled that.”

“Alright?” I frowned. “Why are you warning me about that?”

“Because I saw Rayna is invited.”

I sneered, the very mention of my bitch of a cousin’s name making my hackles rise. Rayna and I used to be very close growing up until her jealousy got in the way. She couldn't stand the fact that I was more important than her. That I was higher up on the social order than she was. That it was my father who wasPakhanand not her's. Over the years her jealousy festered, morphing into hateful emotions until finally one day, she acted on them.

Trying to get the one up on me, she convinced a now ex-boyfriend of mine to cheat on me. I'm not going to lie; I was definitely hurt by her actions and a little ticked off. Okay, a lot ticked off, but I never let it show. Never let her see how much it got to me, which in turn pissed her off even more.

She was superficial, the type of person who cared more about material possessions than the people in her life. She posted every little thing on social media, pretending that she lived some grand, glamorous life when in reality she was just a basic bitch with a fake ass life. It got to the point where I had to block her on Instagram and Tik Tok because I couldn’t stand looking at all that fake bullshit.

“You’re fucking kidding me,” I said, looking at my best friend in disbelief.

“I tried to tell your brother that you and Rayna aren’t on good terms, but they said your cousin and uncle had to be invited. It was non-negotiable.”

“For fuck sake,” I hissed, shaking my head. “You know she’s gonna make a move on Arturo. The bitch can’t help herself.”

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll handle her, alright?”

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I had no doubt she would handle her but- “Just don’t do anything too crazy. My uncle isn’t the type of guy you want to cross.”

“Oh, I know,” she said, giving me a serious look.

“You said there were a couple of things we had to run through? What else?”

They were minor things, like the fact the florist delivered the wrong flowers and we didn’t have a vegetarian or vegan option in case some of the guests didn’t eat meat. After we hashed out the last few details it was time to get me in my wedding dress.

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