Page 61 of Savage Little Lies

23

Dmitri

As expected, no one is happy about me refusing to set a wedding date. No one but me.

Annika’s father gave me an earful about how I was breaking his little girl’s heart by delaying her dream wedding. I only got him to back off by promising to only postpone making plans for a month so that I can finish a big shipment for my business. He still wasn’t thrilled.

The vor v zakone jumped down my throat about dragging my feet and pressured me to get my shit in order and marry Annika before she and her father slipped away.

They never miss a chance to remind me I’m not doing the job my father would’ve done.

It’s all petty, manipulative bullshit, but I don’t budge. Setting a date has been pushed back at least a month, and that’s final. I’m not getting married to that selfish heiress any sooner than I have to. But there’s something I promised to do to appease everyone’s worries.

“Where are we going?” Cara asks when we pile into the backseat of one of my SUVs.

“I have an inappropriate errand I need your help with,” I tell her.

“Ooh. Sex toy shopping?” she guesses as she sits on the far-left side.

I roll my eyes as a smirk forms on my lips. Things are tense between us, but she still shows up every morning ready to dive into whatever needs to be done for the day. I can count on her, and that means a lot more than I can explain.

Even to myself.

Ever since Cara showed up late to work, I watch the clock tick closer to nine each morning, my heart racing in fear that she won’t show, that she’ll have had enough of me and say to hell with her job.

“I need to pick out a suit for the wedding,” I say, watching her amused expression fizzle away. “I shouldn’t ask that of you, but I need another pair of eyes. I have to get this done before Annika cuts my throat in my sleep for the delay.”

“Well, we wouldn’t want that, would we?” Cara replies as she crosses her legs and smooths her skirt down on her thighs. “I’ll help you pick out the best suit.”

“Thank you,” I tell her genuinely.

Cara nods and gazes out of the window as my driver takes us to one of the best luxury menswear shops in the city.

It’s impossible not to think about the man who should be here with me, assisting with all the wedding planning. My best man telling me to pull my head out of my ass, that I already gave my word, so I have to suck it up and go through with the marriage now.

I should be searching for Mikhail’s killers instead of picking out a suit. I thought the men I first sent to investigate his disappearance were just lazy, but there’s no trace of him left behind. One day he was in Vegas, wheeling and dealing real estate deals, then the next he was gone.

I feel trapped. Frozen. Like I’ll never move forward from his death until I find whoever is responsible.

Taking over for him before avenging his death feels like a betrayal.

So much so that having an affair with my assistant before I agree to marry another woman even seems rather insignificant.

Would Mikail have agreed to the Suyunov alliance? No, as Pakhan, he never bowed down to the pressure from a bunch of old men. He was loyal, he kept his promises, but he didn’t let anyone tell him how to live his life.

“We’re here, sir,” my driver says.

I was so lost in my head that I didn’t even realize that we had stopped. I get out of the SUV and meet Cara on the sidewalk before heading into the shop. There’s time for me to be fitted for an expensive Italian custom suit, but I don’t think the occasion is worth the trouble. Annika isn’t worth the hassle. Knowing she’ll be disappointed I bought off-the-rack is even more reason to do so.

“Are you looking for anything specific?” Cara asks me.

“Annika told me not to get anything too eye-catching. She doesn’t want me to overshadow her at the wedding,” I tell Cara as we start walking through the racks of different styles and different colored suits and fabrics.

Cara can’t stop herself from laughing. “Oh, of course. Can’t steal her spotlight.”

The side of my mouth turns up, amusement flickering in my chest. “As if anyone cares what the groom is wearing.”

“She probably doesn’t want you drawing any attention from other women, too,” Cara points out before stopping in front of a rack of black tux jackets. She flips through them, inspecting the different styles.