Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 106541 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 533(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106541 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 533(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
When I spin to face him, my footing unsteady in the modest yet still knowledgeable heel of my stilettos, he shifts his eyes from the beading work of my white gown to Inessa. “Her dress needs to be white.”
“It is white.” Her scoff is barely audible. “Off-white is all the rage.”
“It needs to be white. Pure. White!” he repeats, louder this time. He marches into the room, snatches up my arm, then drags me to the rack of gowns his bevy of women arrived with. “Pick again.”
When I realize his narrowed eyes are on me, I murmur, “I like this dress. It’s pret—”
His growl cuts me off. “Pick. Again.”
When I snap my eyes to Inessa, certain she is the lesser of two evils, she rummages through the rack, searching for the whitest dress she has. It has nowhere near as much detailing as the dress I’m wearing, and it will require me to wear a lengthier heel, but it is still regal-looking.
“What about this one?” Inessa seeks Ghost’s approval more than mine. “The tulle has slithers of the finest white silk. It will be picked up by the lights in the church. She will glow like an angel.”
Church?
Before I can express my shock much less vocalize it, Ghost waves his hand in the air, silently agreeing with Inessa’s suggestion before stepping back to give me room to change.
I’ve not held a moment of modesty since last night.
The room shrinks in size when Inessa and Polina assist me out of the first gown. I’m wearing panties, but they leave nothing to the imagination. They’re sheer at the front and nonexistent at the back. My bra isn’t much better. It has a small amount of lace edging, but the sheer material of the cups leaves my nipples fully exposed.
“Does she have a garter?” Ghost asks after my nipples are hidden by my new dress. After locking his eyes with me for barely a second, he shifts them to Inessa.
“Yes. It is here somewhere.” Tissue paper flies in all directions as she hunts for a minute strip of material that announces my fate.
I am not Cinderella going to the ball.
I’m getting married.
Shit.
“Who?” I whisper to Ghost when he guides me down the hall a second after Inessa hands him my new shoes and the garter.
He doesn’t speak a word. He merely assists me into a coat, walks me over the gangway, then slides into the back of an SUV where Alek is already seated.
“Kate,” he greets with a kind smile.
When I return his greeting with a silent interrogation, he drops his hand to a platinum ring on his left hand. It isn’t a wedding ring, but it has a similar symbol to the one Ghost’s wears on his middle finger.
Nerves take flight in my stomach when I notice the strange writing on the street signs and buildings we whizz past. They’re not in the alphabet most English-speaking countries use.
It is Russian.
I shift my eyes from the large, sterile building slowly merging with the countryside when Ghost asks, “Who is with him?” His eyes are locked with Alek’s.
“Ogor. He can’t shoot for shit, so if anything is going to happen, it won’t be until after the ceremony.” When Ghost demands he speak in Russian, he gives me an apologetic glare before murmuring, “Если ты хочешь, чтобы она ушла сегодня невредимой, успокойся, блять.” He drifts his eyes back to me. “You’re blowing her cover more than her flushed cheeks and wide eyes.”
Ghost calls him a bastard before leaning closer to the partition behind him and demanding the driver to hurry.
In ten minutes, we arrive at a large concrete-fenced property guarded by multiple security personnel and fang-bearing dogs. They’re so aggressive, even the security guards controlling them appear worried they may slip their restraints.
“Take them straight to the chapel,” the security officer in the black box near the gate instructs after locking eyes with Ghost in the back of the SUV. “He is waiting.” The way he emphasizes ‘he’ has me swallowing harshly.
Ghost removes me from the SUV in the same manner he forced me inside with a quick pluck-duck-and-pull maneuver. Then he walks me up a set of marble stairs. The chatter coming from inside the chapel dulls to barely a hush when the creak of the door announces our arrival. The double doors separating the foyer from the main part of the chapel are closed, but it doesn’t stop me from spying the man standing at the end of the aisle in a tuxedo.
It is the man from the auction four years ago. The one who handed over the cash for me.
I shoot my eyes to Ghost, seeking answers I know I will never get.
I thought he was my owner.
He bid on me.
He won me.
So why is he giving me to this man?
I spin barely a hair’s breadth away from Ghost when he stops me in my tracks with a vicious snarl. “If you leave now, your sister will join your father and mother in the dirt of your family plot.”