Page 90 of Savage Pakhan

Everything has been provided for me today. Bras. Panties. Socks. Sleepwear. Comfortable clothes. Casual clothes. Fine dining clothes. Balls and fundraiser gowns. Jeans. Graphic tees. Makeup. Toiletries.

Anything. Everything.

Alek has paid for.

I can’t even imagine the total.

“Kelsey,” I stop Ms. Laurent’s assistant.

She turns so fast, her long brown hair fans over her shoulders as she smiles at me. “Yes, Ms. Roswell?”

I lower my voice so only she can hear me. “How much do you think all of this cost? Not just the dress, but everything.”

Her brows raise and she looks around the room where clothes are everywhere. Folded on the floor, the bed, taking up the closet space, and boxes are even sitting in the tub.

“This is just an estimate. I’m probably wrong, but probably three to five hundred.”

“Dollars?” Okay. That’s not bad at all. That’s actually a steal for all of this. He must know people.

She giggles and shakes her head. “No, Ms. Roswell. Thousand. Three to five hundred thousand dollars.”

My jaw would hit the floor if it weren’t attached.

She squeezes my arm. “Lucky girl.” She winks, rushing to catch up to her boss.

One by one everyone leaves. All but the jeweler who has been sitting on the couch patiently waiting for me. He’s an older man with a bald head except for the long white hair on the sides. His glasses take over his entire face, his eyes frighteningly magnified by the lenses.

He has a few black briefcases with him with gold handles.

“I’m sorry for the wait. Please, come in.”

“I was advised to stay in the living room with you, ma’am,” his old voice shakes.

I step out of the room, grabbing the handle to shut the door behind me. “By who?”

“Mr. Bykov. I happen to like my life, so I won’t argue with him.”

Does Alek think an eighty-year-old man is a threat to me? I would laugh if the concern for my safety didn’t make me fall in love just a little more.

“I am sorry about that.” I come over and sit down next to him. “Alek can be a little worried about my safety, but he means well.”

“Oh, I know exactly what he means and I’m not risking it.” He unclips his briefcases and opens them onto the coffee table.

Men’s rings shine as they are revealed, but I already know what I’m looking for.

“I know what I want. A simple gold band with the words ‘I Promise’ engraved. I know engraving takes time, but is it possible to rush it? He wears a size eleven.”

“You’re going to want this one.” He plucks a polished gold band from the velvet cushion.

It’s a thicker band that gleams just like the bottoms of my new heels.

It’s perfect.

“I can engrave it in my van and then it will be all yours.”

“Thank you.”

“Anything for the Bykovs.” He slams his briefcases closed and locks them with a flick of his fingers. “I’ll be back soon. Less than an hour. I don’t move as quick as I used to.”