Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 58163 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 291(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58163 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 291(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
I don’t think there was a dry eye in the audience. Even Igor, my uncle, wiped a tear from his eye as he gave his daughter away.
The house is packed with at least three hundred guests, and likely close to that many vendors, here to make sure that Nadia’s day goes off without a hitch.
And I’d say, so far, it’s been absolutely perfect.
“Come dance with me.”
I glance up at Rafe and feel my heart pick up speed, the way it always does when he’s near. I’ve loved this man since I was nineteen.
And he loves me.
But we can’t be together.
“Come on,” he says, urging me to follow him to the floor. “It’s just a dance, Annika. I’m not asking you to marry me or anything.”
I frown at him but melt against him when he wraps those strong arms around me and guides me into a sweet, slow dance.
I’ve gotten good at saying “no” to Rafe.
But it feels so wonderful when I give in and say, “Yes.”
I rest my cheek against his muscled chest and close my eyes, letting the music fill me. And for this moment, I almost forget that I’m damaged goods and that if Rafe ever found out what my secrets are, he’d stop asking me to let him in.
To give him a chance.
To give us a chance.
They all think that the worst part of me died with my husband.
But they’re wrong.
When the song ends, a fast one starts, and Nadia makes me stay on the floor with her as we jam out to music from when we were young and would dance our asses off in her bedroom.
When I can barely feel my feet anymore, I wave them off and make my way to the table to change my shoes into flats—I’m a smart woman who brings appropriate footwear when I know dancing will be involved—and take a sip of water.
“Oh, honey, you look absolutely gorgeous today,” Katya, Nadia’s mom, says as she leans in to kiss my cheek. “Don’t you think everything came together nicely?”
Katya is a typical mother, even though she’s married to a billionaire and can have anything she wants with the snap of her fingers. She just wants her daughter’s special day to be perfect. And she’s been fretting for days.
“It’s so lovely,” I assure her. “You were right to go with the lilacs outside. They smelled heavenly, and added just the right pop of color.”
“Oh, I’m so happy to hear you say that,” she says with a whoosh of relieved breath. “I was worried that someone would be allergic. That’s why we went with simple roses in here, just in case.”
“You never miss a thing, Aunt Katya.” I kiss her cheek. “Are you going to dance with Uncle Igor?”
She glances over to where her husband is smoking cigars with Carlo and the Sergi boss. “He’ll save some dances for me. In the meantime, I’m going to let him tell tall tales with his friends and drink some whiskey.”
Aunt Katya winks at me.
“The secret to being married to a man like Igor is to let him think he’s always in charge, while having the backbone to steer him where he needs to go.” She glances over, and I follow her gaze. She’s looking at Rafe. “You remember that, my love.”
“Oh, I don’t think—”
“It’s just a suggestion,” she interrupts and then kisses me on the cheek before rushing over to chat with a table full of guests.
Everyone thinks I should be with Rafe. Even Rafe is convinced I should be with him.
But they’re wrong.
I sigh and sit at my table, reaching for the bag beneath the tablecloth so I can change my shoes when a waiter taps my shoulder.
“Miss Annika?”
“Yes?”
“This was just delivered for you. They said it was urgent, so I brought it right over.”
“Oh?” I frown at the manila envelope and nod at the young man. “Thank you.”
He nods and hurries away. I glance around to make sure no one is looking over my shoulder and open the envelope.
There’s a note on top.
If you do not meet our demands, we will send these to the press. Your family will be ruined. You will be ruined.
We will be in touch.
I flip the note to the back and feel my blood run cold as I stare down at the first photograph.
It’s from another lifetime. When the man I married made me do things that I hated, that I was uncomfortable with. Things I’m not proud of.
My nakedness is on full display in the photo. And the next one. The third shows me doing things I’d never even think of doing again.
Suddenly, I feel a strong hand on my shoulder and look up into Rafe’s hot blue eyes.
“What the fuck is that?”