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Well, my dear sister, it’s probably because I slept with said man in his forties. I really am the author of my own misfortune.
“No, you’re right,” I state. “It’s totally weird. He’s really good-looking, though.”
Aurora rolls her eyes. “That is so not the point, Lucia.”
“You think so too, don’t you?” I ask on a laugh.
“Well, I have eyes,” she mutters. “But again, not the point! The man is dangerous. And a creep.”
She really does not like him. Not that I blame her. My sister takes my hand in hers, her expression earnest.
“You have your whole life ahead of you, Lucia. There’s a reason I made the decision for us to leave the outfit all those years ago. This, what’s going on right now, is my worst fear that has come to life. I hate that you’ve been put in this position.”
“It’s not all that different from what you went through with Nico last year,” I point out.
My sister and her husband might have been in love with each other since they knew what love is, but it took them both a pretty long time to come to that realization. Their marriage started out fake, nothing more than an arrangement my sister agreed to in order to keep me safe.
“Don’t even compare what I have with Nico to this. Nico’s not twenty years older than me,” she whispers shouts.
Again with the age. Her prejudice is pretty clear. She might as well be wearing a fat neon sign with the words “I don’t like age gap relationships” written on it. I, on the other hand, have never much cared. Since I turned eighteen, I’ve always dated the men I wanted to, regardless of their ages.
One of my boyfriends was ten years older than me. Older men have always been my type. It’s why I was so okay with sleeping with Ivan a month ago.
“Okay, fine. The two situations are nowhere near comparable,” I mutter.
“I’m not letting you marry that man. You have your career and your life in New York and I’ll do anything to make sure you can go back to that,” my sister promises.
I freeze at that, my heart falling still, but I quickly recover before she can notice. I hate lying to my sister, I really do. Shestill has no idea that I have no life back in New York. This is all I have now. I plan to tell her everything eventually. I just don’t want her to think of me as a failure.
“You’re absolutely right, Rory. And I love you so much for caring,” I tell her. “How about we both try to take a nap before that baby of yours wakes up from his?” I suggest.
We both lie down, staring up at the ceiling in the room, which is decorated with stars. They glow at night. I had it done when I was 12. I was glad to see that they were still here when I walked into my childhood bedroom. It’s comforting.
“Why do you think he chose you?” Aurora asks me after a couple of minutes pass. “It’s entirely random and I’ve been trying to wrap my head around it, but it makes no sense for him to suddenly decide he wants to marry a woman he’s never even met.”
I shrug, hating the lies as they leave my lips.
“It’s like you said,sorella. The man is insane.”
I know exactly why Ivan chose me. Although I don’t understand why or how one night of fun turned into him wanting to spend the rest of his life with me.
The night before his forty-eight hours deadline is up, I get a text from an unknown number.
Krasavitsa.
The single Russian word has my heart racing. I finally looked it up a while ago. It means beautiful. Which is kind of sweet.
I shake my head to dispel such thoughts because I should absolutely not be thinking of Ivan Volkov as sweet.
Me: What do you want?
Ivan: A date.
My mouth drops open at his audacity. And yet intrigue flows through me.
Me: Are you being serious right now? Why the hell would I want to go out with you?
Ivan: I’ll make it worth your while, milaya. Plus, I know you have things you’d like to know. Or maybe you want to yell at me. Come out with me tonight, I’ll let you get everything off your chest.
