âTruly. Youâre a vision.â Courtney beams as she fluffs my veil, her fingers brushing the lace that once graced my motherâs hair on her wedding day.
I adjust the poison vial hidden in my bouquet.
âYour hubbyâs going to want to consummate at the altar.â She giggles, oblivious to the vialâs click against my thigh.
I almost laugh.
If only she knew.
Heâll get his climax. Just not the one he expects.
The dress is exquisiteâa masterpiece of revenge stitching. Courtney altered every seam to highlight the curves Pavel once worshipped.
Now theyâll be the last thing he sees before he takes his final breath.
âSo?â She tilts her head. âWhat do you really think?â
I meet her gaze in the mirror. âItâs perfect.â
And it is. Every pearl, every stitch, every drop of toxin nestled between rosesâall leading to the most poetic âI doâ in Bratva history.
My brother Piotrâs plan is clear: I marry Pavel Fetisov, convince him to trust me, then kill him in his sleep.
A kind of poetic justice.
My family deserves revenge, and Pavel needs to pay for what his family took from us.
Six years ago, I thought Pavel was my future. I believed everything he said and trusted him unequivocally.
Until Piotr revealed the truth.
He told me Pavel and the rest of the Fetisov Bratva orchestrated our parentsâ deaths.
I immediately ended it. That night, I crushed everything weâd built, and swore Iâd never look back.
A few months later, I found out I was pregnant.
Piotr didnât take the news well. Furious doesnât even begin to cover it. He sent me south to our Aunt Irenaâs estate, far away from prying eyes and any chance of the Fetisovs learning the truth. There, I gave birth to Ana, my beautiful, sweet girl, who deserves to live her best life, one not hidden in the shadows.
When we returned to the family home two months ago, I thought Iâd feel a sense of relief. Instead, it feels like Iâve traded one cage for another. Piotr and I agreed that Anaâs paternity must remain a secret.
Especially from Pavel.
As I gaze at my image in the mirror, I exhale slowly, trying to ignore the gnawing doubt at the back of my mind. This is the right thing to do. Pavel deserves this. His family deserves this. And yetâ¦
Courtney takes a step back and looks me over one last time.
âAbsolutely perfect,â she says with one final approving nod. âDonât want to toot my own horn, but your dress might be my finest work so far.â
âYouâve done an amazing job.â I plaster a bright smile on my face, doing my best to look the part Iâm playing.
But my mindâs a million miles away.
Courtney cocks her head to the side. âYou OK? I know Iâm just the stylist, but you seem too distracted for a woman about to get married.â
âItâs nothing,â I say. âJust a few nerves.â
âAh, totally normal.â
âYes, thatâs it, just last-minute butterflies,â I add with a smile in a cheerful tone.
âGood.â
A soft knock at the door interrupts us. I turn, waiting for the person on the other side to speak.
âItâs time.â The deep, resonant voice of my other older brother, Vlad, comes through.
âI can tell him Iâm not done yet, if you need a few more minutes,â Courtney says.
The offerâs tempting, but I shake my head.
âNo, but thank you. Time to get this show on the road.â
I steal one more glance at my reflection before turning and striding toward the door.
Vlad stands on the other side, his expression warm but serious. He has always been my anchor, my quiet support, when Piotrâs fire becomes too overwhelming.
Vlad is tall, handsome, and solidly built, with the same blue eyes as our father. His dark hair is slicked back. Heâs dressed in a perfectly tailored tux, looking every bit the supportive brother.
He looks me over, his lips curving into a faint smile.
âYou look beautiful,â he says softly. âMother would be proud.â
âDonât start,â I reply, waving him off with mock irritation.
He chuckles, holding out his arm. âReady?â
Not even a little, but I take his arm, straightening my back. âAs Iâll ever be. Letâs do this.â
We walk in silence for a moment, his presence grounding me. I know whatâs on his mind. Unlike Piotr, Vlad is totally against this plan.
He sighs heavily as we make our way through the halls of the church.
âYou donât have to do this,â he finally says.
âYes, I do,â I reply firmly.
He shakes his head. âI know your reasoning. I know you want revenge. And I know that Piotr has put pressure on you toââ
I pause, turning to him. âYou think this is all Piotrâs doing?â I ask, my voice low. âLike Iâm some naive little girl who canât make my own decisions?â
Another sigh. âThatâs not what I meant.â
âThen tell me what you meant.ââTheyâll kill you the second they suspect,â Vlad growls, crushing my hand in his. âPavelâs not some lovesick boy anymoreâheâs Pakhan now. I canât lose you.â
âYouâre not going to lose me.â
âI donât doubt your confidence,â he says, âor your ability. But things can go wrong. And Pavelâ¦heâs not exactly an easy mark. Satisfying your vengeance might be too high a price to pay.â
A flash of anger hits me. âThis isnât just about petty revenge. This is about family, our family. This is about Ana. Sheâs not going to be safe until that fiend is out of the picture for good.â
âI know, I just donât want to lose you.â
I take his hand, squeezing it gently. âYou wonât. By this time next week, Pavel will be dead, and our troubles will be over. Have faith, brother.â
Vlad doesnât push further, but thereâs a lingering concern in his eyes. For now, I push it aside. Thereâs no room for doubt, not today.
âCome on,â I say with a smile. âYou have a sister to give away.â
âIndeed I do. Letâs go.â
I grip Vladâs arm tightly as we step into the hallway, my nerves twisting into a tight, merciless knot. My stomach churns, threatening to rebel, but I hold my head high. Despite my tough talk, I am scared.
My brother is right. There are all sorts of ways this plan could go awry.
But this is no time for weakness, not when Iâm walking into the lionâs den, wrapped in white satin, pretending to be a willing lamb.
Vladâs presence is steady beside me, his hand resting lightly over mine.
When we reach the entrance to the chapel, I pause. My grip tightens on Vladâs arm. A faint murmur of voices filters through the wooden doors, and my breath hitches.
âItâs time,â he says. âAre you sure you want to do this? You could still play runaway bride and hightail it out of here.â He chuckles. âIâll have to tell everyone I tried to stop you, though.â
I smile slightly in spite of my nerves.
âNo. Iâm going to see this through.â
âWell, in that case, good luck, sister.â
With that, he pushes the doors open.
The chapel is large and beautiful, but only one side is fully occupied. Most of my family did not approve of this marriage, and many refused to attend. The Fetisov family is out in full force, however, their gazes locked onto me, a sea of dark hair and ice-blue eyes.
I glance toward the altar. Pavel is standing there, tall and commanding, exuding power the way he always has.
His tailored suit hugs his broad shoulders before tapering down his lean, powerful frame. His dark hair is threaded with a touch of silver now, a feature that only adds to his appeal.
A wave of heat rushes through me, and I hate the way my pussy clenches at the sight of him, the wetness quick to pool between my thighs.
I hate the way my pulse quickens, the way my body remembers how his hands felt on me all those years ago. I recall keenly the way he felt inside, stretching me, filling me full, bringing me to orgasm again and again.
Itâs been six long years. How does he still have this effect on me?
Piotr is standing beside him, playing the role of loyal friend, like the seasoned liar heâs become.
Six years of deception and carefully constructed lies have led to this moment. Piotrâs ability to wear his mask of betrayal, to laugh and drink with the man heâs about to deceive, has always impressed me.
I swallow hard, my hand gripping Vladâs.
âYou good?â he asks, low enough so that no one else can hear.
âIâm fine. Letâs go.â
I look around at the church architecture, the crowd, anything but Pavel. I can feel him watching me. The heat of his gaze seems to drag over my skin, and no matter how hard I try, I canât stop the warmth creeping up my neck and blooming across my chest.
Damn him.
Why couldnât time have been crueler to his looks? Why does he have to be so goddamn handsome, so perfect?
I grit my teeth, furious at the way my body reacts, at the heat curling low in my stomach.
This is the man who took everything from me.
My parents. My freedom. My chance at a normal life.
He doesnât deserve my attention, and he sure as hell doesnât deserve to be desired.
But my body betrays me.
As we reach the altar, Vlad releases my arm, his grip on my hand lingering for just a second before he steps aside.
Pavelâs eyes lock onto mine. My knees feel slightly unsteady under the weight of his gaze.
âKat,â he says, his voice deep and rough, sending a shiver down my spine.
Damn him. Damn me.
My jaw locks as he threads his fingers through mine like a trap, but I force myself not to look away. Pavelâs expression is unreadable, though thereâs a knowing smugness. His lips twitch, the ghost of a smirk forming, which, God help me, I want to slap right off his face.
The officiant speaks, but the words barely register. My world has narrowed to the solid warmth of his hand in mine, to the maddening way his thumb consistently brushes lightly against my palm. The touch is so faint, but it sends heat licking up my spine, setting fire to every rational thought in my head.
I swallow hard, reminding myself why Iâm here, why I agreed to this, and why I must go through with it.
My parents are dead because of him.
My daughter has lived her entire life in hiding because of him.
Pavel leans in slightly, his voice a quiet murmur between us. âYouâre breathtaking,â he says.
Pavelâs thumb strokes my palm like he remembers every inch of my skin. I squeeze back harder. Let him think itâs passion. The tighter he holds on, the easier itâll be to slit his throat.