“He isn’t stupid.” I narrow my eyes at her. “He’ll put a bullet through my head.”
She says nothing, doesn’t even flinch.
I splay the dress across the couch before kicking off my shoes and unbuckling my jeans. “I didn’t wake up today thinking I’d be the sacrificial lamb.”
All the pressure is on me.
Our lives now lie in my hands.
If we break this contract with the Lombardis, they’ll kill us.
As I slip the dress over my head, it feels like a chain weighing me down.
Thankfully, Dasha chose a simple dress with a high neckline, dainty lace sleeves, with a flare at the bottom. While simple, it’s tight and uncomfortable, clinging to my waist and chest.
I stare at myself in the mirror, fighting the tears threatening to spill down my cheeks.
“You look beautiful, honey,” my mother says softly, stepping behind me to settle her hands on my shoulders before smoothing a hand over my arm.
I look away, refusing to meet her eyes.
As much as I want to kick her out of the room and be alone in my misery, I don’t.
Being alone right now would be worse.
Dasha had no bridesmaids. I was supposed to be the maid of honor.
I don’t even have one of those.
It’s just little old me, about to stand at the altar with a heartless mobster, praying he doesn’t kill me when he lifts the veil and finds the wrong bride.
2
“She’s ready,”my mother tells Aleksy when he comes back into the room.
I look straight at Aleksy. “You need to tell Emilio. You’re putting my life at risk if you don’t.”
“He won’t notice.” Aleksy drags a hand over his smooth jaw.
“Am I just supposed to let him call me Dasha for the rest of my life?”
He shakes his head. “Say your vows. We’ll deal with everything else afterwards.”
“You don’t think telling him after will just piss him off more?”
He steps closer, clenching his fists at his sides. “Don’t question me, Liliya. Just do what I say.”
“Come on, honey,” my mom says. “It’s time.”
It’s time.
Time for me to be traded for peace, for power, for the Bratva.
Or die for it.
Aleksy walks me to the cathedral doors, and everyone turns silent when they open.
I claw at my throat, suffocating, as the “Bridal Chorus” begins.
