CHAPTER 25
Naomi
One week later
I turned in different directions in front of the mirror, checking my outfit.
“I think it’s great,” Katarina said, her legs swinging as she sat on the side of the bed. “You look great. More than great, actually. You look hot.”
“Gavrushka will not be able to keep his hands off you,” Aleksandra added, winking. “Not that I think he ever had a problem with that.”
I blushed as I turned to the two younger girls. They weren’t far off from the truth. Despite my cold one-on-one meeting with Maria, my time in Russia had been nothing but amazing. Gavril was incredibly attentive, taking me on boat rides with just the two of us or taking me out to dinner so that I could see more of his home city.
And St. Petersburg was truly a beautiful city. Growing up, I had imagined all of Russia to be a dreary, gray place. But Gavril had shown me a city that was vibrant and alive. And under his watchful eye and careful guidance, I could almost have believed that we were in America.
Tonight, we were going to the Mariinsky Theatre, the very place that he had once had aspirations of playing in. I was looking forward to seeing his face when the music started and how different he would be.
But at the same time, I didn’t look forward to being Sveta again tonight.
When it was just the two of us, either in the bedroom or on the boat, I could be Naomi. And he didn’t try to correct me when I spoke English, even calling out my name a time or two himself.
But in public, I had to resume my role, even if all I wanted was for him to see me as the woman whom he hadn’t expected to be with. All I wanted was for him to admit that I was the woman who could love him.
If only he would let me.
Ugh. I was in love with Gavril, and it terrified me. How I would give anything right now to talk to Ilsa! She would know exactly what to say, to either tell me to run or reassure me that it wasn’t a bad idea to fall in love with a Bratva Pakhan.
My stomach fluttered wildly as I smoothed down the lace top, an off-the-shoulder number that stopped right above my belly button, leaving a patch of skin before the black satin skirt fell gracefully to my feet. Instead of black pumps, I had chosen a fiery red pair of heels to match my lipstick. My hair was swept over to the side in riotous curls.
I did feel hot.
The door to the bedroom opened and Gavril walked in, his intense gaze roving over my body and igniting me from within.
Just a single look. That was all it ever took to cause my stomach to tighten. That was all it ever took for my nipples to harden under the strapless bra I was wearing and my lower half to flood with slick wetness.
“Well, Gavrushka?” Katarina demanded of her brother. “What do you think?”
“Gorgeous,” he said in that satiny smooth accent of his. “But she’s missing something.”
“I am?” I asked, biting my lower lip nervously. “Is it the shoes? Are they too much?”
He shook his head and walked closer to me, reaching into his pocket to withdraw a flat box. “Here,” Gavril replied, handing it to me. “For you.”
Surprised, I took the box from him and opened it, gasping as I saw the contents.
“Gavril…”
“You can’t go to the theater without diamonds,” he murmured, pulling out a diamond pendant the size of my pinky finger. “May I?”
I nodded, unable to find the words to properly thank him, and he settled the pendant against my bare skin, his fingers brushing the back of my neck before he stepped back. “Put the rest on,” he told me.
“Diamonds,” Aleksandra sighed, resting her chin in her hand. “You know how to woo them, dear brother.”
He chuckled as I fastened the diamond studs in my ears and the diamond bracelet on my wrist, my fingers shaking. I didn’t even want to think about how much I was wearing tonight. Way more than I myself could afford, that was for sure.
Katarina jumped from the bed and handed me my clutch. “Have fun.” She grinned and hugged me before doing the same to Gavril. I watched the three siblings embrace, and my heart wrenched in my chest.
I loved his sisters. They were genuine and clearly loved him. I imagined there were very few people who truly cared about Gavril in this way. And that thought made me want to make this work, regardless of how our fake marriage would end.
Gavril held out his hand and I took it, saying goodbye to his sisters before walking through the house and out to the waiting car. Anatoly was there, and he gave me a nod as I passed. “Good evening,” he stated. “Sveta Stanislavovna.”
And just like that, I was no longer who I was, but the role that I was forced to play.
“Good evening,” I murmured. “It’s good to see you.” I knew nothing about Gavril’s right-hand man, but Anatoly was the one who was going to protect him when I wasn’t there, and that was all that mattered to me.
I slid inside the car, and Gavril followed me. The door closed a moment later. Gavril was dressed in a full tux, bowtie included. He almost reminded me of James Bond.
He caught me staring, arching a brow as the car started to move. “What?”
“I—you look nice,” I blurted out, my cheeks on fire. This man was mine.
His lips lifted into a dangerously sexy smile, and his hand found mine, wrapping around my fingers. “You take my breath away,” Gavril said in a low voice. “It makes me want to throw your skirt over your head and fuck you hard, Sveta.”
My heart sank as he said the name, even though my body warmed at the thought. Was I always going to be Sveta? Would our children even know me as who I was or who he wanted me to be? It was almost as if this past week together had meant nothing to him.