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“Planning. Strategizing. Organizing.”
“You told me this was a fake wedding.”
“And so it is.”
“Then why does it feel so real?”
“Because that’s the only way I’m going to be able to convince Ravil that itisreal,” Kolya says. He pulls out a little black box from his pocket and hands it to me unceremoniously. “Speaking of making things look real, here.”
My eyes glide from the box in his hand to his face. It’s completely expressionless.
“Aren’t you supposed to be on one knee for this part?” I ask, mostly teasing, but slightly distracted by the way my heart seems to be thumping a little harder and a little faster in my chest.
He rolls his eyes and opens the box himself to reveal a marquise diamond ring sitting on a plush pink cushion. I practically have to shield my eyes so as not to be blinded.
“That’s no fake ring…”
He surprises me by putting the box down and taking my hand. Then he slides the ring onto my finger without permission. He looks down at it for a moment.
“It’s a perfect fit,” he declares, his gaze rising to meet mine.
Then he drops my hand without warning. It lands on my lap with an unflattering thwack
“Do you like it?”
I glance at him, cheeks burning. “Does it matter?”
“If we have to do this, I’d rather you have things that you genuinely like,” he says in a matter of fact tone. “So if you don’t like the ring, I can—”
“I like it,” I mumble.
He nods. “Good.”
It’s hard not to look at the damn thing. No matter how hard I try, my eyes go straight to it. I’d always expected to wear a ring one day; I’d just never expected Adrian’s brother to be the man to give it to me.
“What’s wrong?” Kolya asks.
I shake my head. “It’s just… weird. I’m not much of a jewelry person.”
“You don’t have to wear it all the time. Just when you’re out in public.”
I spin the band around my finger. It really is a perfect fit. “Adrian was the ring person in our relationship,” I blurt out. “Never took the stupid thing off.”
Unconsciously, I lift my hand up and touch my cheek. He left a mark with that cursed thing the night he died.
Kolya doesn’t offer up an opinion. He just sits there, gazing out the window. “I never asked what the insignia meant,” I realize aloud. “Two swords clashing against one another. I just thought it was pretty.”
It was a heavy ring. Heavy enough to cut. Heavy enough to scar. Heavy enough to last.
“We’re here,” Kolya says abruptly, as the Mercedes comes to a stop in front of a gorgeous little cake shop with wooden framed bifold glass doors and potted greenery as far as the eye can see.
Kolya strides past the wicker chairs, beneath the yellow pinstriped awning, and breezes indoors. I wait by the Mercedes until the sedan’s door opens and Geneva flies out looking positively murderous.
“That bastard locked the car so I couldn’t get out or even roll down the windows!” she snaps. “You couldn’t even see me waving at you because of the damn tint.”
I just barely manage to suppress the snort in my throat. “I’m sorry. But if you were a little less antagonistic towards him—”
“It takes two to tango!”
