Page 19 of Marrying the Silver Fox

My father will be so glad of the marriage that he will not look too hard into finding pieces that don’t fit, but Max—he will do everything in his power to unseat me from this new position that I’ve found myself in, and that means I have to keep my guard up around him.

“Dad was telling me about a gathering tomorrow night,” I tell him coolly. “Will you be in attendance?”

“Of course I will,” he replies, voice laced with a hint of venom.

I know it’s jealousy. As clear as day. I’m the one our father sent to America to manage the business out there, not him. And it’s not just because he’s the younger of the two of us either. No, by the time I was sent out there, we were both old enough that it wouldn’t have made much of a difference one way or another. But my father trusts me in a way he doesn’t trust Max, whether he would ever admit it out loud or not, and Max is acutely aware of that fact.

“Wouldn’t want to miss the chance to get to know your lovely wife a little better,” he adds, and he flashes me a grin. It’s a warning, I can see that much, but not one I will bend to.

“I’m sure the two of you will get on well,” I reply, rising to my feet. “You seemed to take to her this morning, after all.”

I lock eyes with him for a moment, warning him, reminding him that I am the one calling the shots here—that I am the one our father has chosen and nothing he can do will change that, no matter how much he clearly wishes it would.

I brush past him and make my way out the door, leaving my father to discuss with Max the new approach to the business. And I can feel him glowering after me, glaring in my direction, as if he can barely believe that I have the nerve to brush him off like that.

But I have been living in America for a long time now, and during that time, my brother has made little effort to close the distance between us. No, he is happy to let it grow, because he wants what I have, more than he will ever be able to confess to.

And now that I have finally closed my fist around it—I can only imagine that his attempts to unseat me will grow even more intense by the day.

9

ANDIE

I wake with a start to the feeling that someone is watching me, the prickling at the back of my neck warning me that there’s somebody here who shouldn’t be. I sit bolt upright in bed, and flip over—sure enough, I find Nikolai sitting on the far side of the room, watching me while I sleep.

“How long have you been there?” I demand sleepily, rubbing my hand over my face as I attempt to bring myself back down to earth.

He rises to his feet, picking up a bag that sits next to the chair, and holds it out to me. “Here. Try this on.”

I pull open the bag and look down into it, frowning. “What is this…?”

“A dress.”

“I already have enough to wear,” I remind him. “I⁠—”

“For tonight. Trust me, this is different. You’ll want something…finer.”

The way he says it, I can tell that this is not up for debate. I reach into the bag and pull out the dress; it seems to be a deep blue velvet, with a plunging neckline. Alongside it are a few jewelry boxes in matching dark velvet, and I flip a couple of them open, eyes widening when I see what’s waiting for me inside.

“Nikolai, this is too much. I can’t—I mean, I don’t⁠—”

“Try it on,” he insists. “I need to know if it fits before tonight.”

I can tell that I’m not going to get through to him, and that he has already made his mind up about the plans for the day. I could argue, dig my heels in, but look how far that has gotten me in recent memory. It doesn’t seem to matter what’s going on between us, he always gets his way, and the best I can hope for is to keep up without getting torn apart in the process.

I roll out of bed, nervously tugging down the long tee I was sleeping in so I can cover myself, and I notice the way his gaze lingers on me as I do so. We have not spent much time together since the plane, and honestly, that has been by design. I still don’t know where I stand with him, but I’m certain that if I let myself stick around for too long, I’m going to be drawn into that same desire that had me fucking him after a couple glasses of champagne on our wedding night.

I catch sight of myself in the mirror, and I can’t help but notice how exhausted I look. Dark circles under my eyes, even though the enormous bed that I had all to myself is way better than the lumpy mattress I was putting up with back home. I tossed and turned all night, trying to figure out where I stand in all of this.

I mean, I know there’s something up with this family, there has to be. No way they came into this much money and power without hurting anyone along the way. And it hasn’t escaped me how quick Nikolai was to force my hand into the marriage. I could have stood my ground, said no, but he strikes me as the kind of guy who will do damn near anything if it means he can ruin someone who stands in his way. His willingness to make a move like that is proof to me that he has grown accustomed to using underhand methods, and I can only assume the same methods were how this family came into such wealth.

I slip into the dress, and strain behind me to tug up the zipper—for a second, I think I’m not going to fit into it, but finally, with one great big tug, it comes up. I breathe a sigh of relief, then look at myself in the mirror once more.

Woah, okay. I actually kind of like this dress. It’s slinky, the kind of thing more suited to a red carpet than first thing in the morning like this, but I can almost picture myself with hair and makeup done, the jewelry that sits in those boxes, looking like I might fit into this world in some way.

Whatever the hell that means.

I open the door, standing before Nikolai once more. “Well, it fits,” I tell him bluntly.