Page 7 of The Payback

“Ellie, please,” she says quietly like she’s said it a million times before. Good actress for an Interpol agent. She has a whole backstory, but I didn’t know that included a nickname preference. Not that I’ll use it.

I don’t even know her real name. When arranging all of this, I was given zero details of the woman playing my new bride, other than a general description, so I didn’t risk exposing her.

“What’s Nikita doing here?” she murmurs, shielding her lips with her champagne glass.

“You know him?” I ask, not feeling the same compunction to hide my words.

Her words are a mere whisper compared to the clinking of glasses and utensils on plates. “He was my partner.”

I do a double-take at those words.Fuck.

“Come on.” I rise and wait beside her chair for her to do the same. This requires a shift in our plan; one that might mean I need to kill my former best friend. Then again, maybe it will be revenge for my father’s death. I just wish I had more proof.

Elsa pauses, gently folds her napkin, and places it on the table. She rises to her feet and only comes up to my chest, even with heels. But what she lacks in height, she makes up for in appearance. Strong yet feminine shoulders, small breasts that would fit perfectly in my hands, and a slim waist that meets a subtle curve at her hips.

A clinking of glasses rings out as we stand side by side. “Kiss! Kiss!” the cheers say, a mix of English and Russian.

Elsa dips her head as if embarrassed by all the attention, slipping into her role again. I doubt much embarrasses the woman she actually is, but she plays her part well, and I forget she’s someone else entirely.

It will draw far more attention if I don’t kiss her after all our guests called for it on such a joyous occasion. So I cradle her face in my palm, my fingertips sinking into the chignon at the base of her neck, and tilt her face towards mine.

Her lips part as her obsidian eyes meet mine, the pulse under her chin hammering. A slow smirk spreads on my lips, and I lower my face to hers.

After the lightest brush of our lips, it’s over. No need to invite temptation into our lives when this is merely a way out. Especially not after that kiss in the church, where I nearly lost control and forgot about our charade. But I can’t help but note the sweetness of her strawberry and champagne taste as it lingers on my lips.

My uncle and right-hand man, Sergei, booms, “If I may have your attention!”

The guests turn away from us and towards him. Elsa relaxes while I’m still touching her chin as they shift their attention. I release her and slip my hand into my pocket as I pick up my glass and give my uncle the attention he requests.

Sergei lifts his champagne flute into the air, and his wife, Oksana, does the same beside him. “To my nephew, Dimitri, and his new bride, Elsa. May your wedding night be fruitful, as an heir is the surest way to prosperity.” I note those brave enough to cheer Sergei on. The twins, Aleksandr and Ivan Golubev, are the rowdiest, and I vow to put them on some kind of cleanup detail for the next three weeks.

Sergei had argued I was too young to take thepakhanrole. Not enough experience, still too young, no heir, and so on. I laughed in his face and hatched my plan.

I knew how to do this job. My father had taught me all my life. But with Sergei so intent on an heir and continuing the Aslanov line, I saw a way. He and my Aunt Oksana had only girls, and carrying on our surname had become his fixation.

Getting Interpol involved came later, but I started dropping hints I was ready to marry. I’ve squired women all around New York, bored to tears, until one day, after beginning the set-up with Interpol, I gave him the number for Peter Lee and told him I wanted an alliance with the Emerald Sabres and would do anything to make it happen.

Sergei had tried to fill the role as an intermediary until he deemed I was ready, but I squashed that notion. My uncle was sorely mistaken if he thought there was even one day in my life that my father had let me justbeinstead of training me for my future. He’d always wanted my father’s seat, so I took the role and guarded it with my life when he died because I don’t trust Sergei, especially after learning about his most recent ventures.

“And may our families work together to broaden both our reaches.”

The man who walked Elsa down the aisle dips his head as if saying he would ensure that never came to pass. In this dynamic, I am the catch, and Elsa is the price for peace and the bargaining chip allowing the Emerald Sabres onto the East Coast.

The roles are clear and defined—structured in such a way to help make her feel like nothing among my people. After all, who pays attention to a fly on the wall when a tiger prowls the room? Her only job here is to gather the evidence and help me get the fuck out of this life.

“To Mr and Mrs Dimitri Aslanov! To the happy couple!” Sergei says, and the rest of the attendees repeat the cheer.

“To us,” I murmur, meeting Elsa’s eyes as I clink my glass with hers.

CHAPTERFOUR

Eleanor

With the weddingand reception finished, Dimitri and I stroll through the line of clapping guests and head for the fancy black town car idling just outside the entrance to the boathouse. As we pass the end of the line, I spy Nik off to the side, cigarette in hand, as he leans against the trunk of a nearby tree. He’s watching with intensity as Dimitri guides me into the car.

All night, he stayed far enough away that even if I threw a knife, I couldn’t be sure it would hit him. It might be worth a try, though.

Sergei tried to bully Dimitri into taking us on a honeymoon, but my husband wasn’t having it, citing business as the reason to stick close to home. The compromise was an agreement to host a party soon. Whether we would still be married by the time that indeterminate date rolled around was anyone’s guess.

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