Page 66 of Forced to Marry the Russian Bratva

“I am,” I say. “But the thing is, I have nothing appropriate for this literally. I was wondering if you girls would like to go shopping?”

“YES!” Darya squeals so loudly I have to pull the phone away from my ear. “Shopping trip! Let's meet at Luxe on Michigan Avenue in an hour. They have everything.”

“Uh…isn’t that place kind of expensive?” I ask, already mentally calculating how much I can afford to spend. With my new clients, I have some wiggle room, but not Yuri-level wiggle room.

“Don't even think about the price,” Darya says. “We have tabs running at all the good boutiques, and Valentin will get it.”

“I can't let him do that!” I feel mortified by the suggestion, even.

“You can and you will! You’re his wife, for god’s sake. And you’re only going to this event because he asked, right?” Nadya interrupts.

“I guess…” I’m half-convinced. Nadya does put forth a solid argument.

“Besides, it'll drive Val crazy when he sees you in a sexy little item!”

The thought of Valentin's eyes falling out of his head sends a little thrill through me that I immediately try to squash, but it’s enough to convince me. “Fine,” I say, “but nothing too over the top.”

“Oh, honey,” Darya says, “you clearly don't know us very well yet. See you in an hour!”

The call ends, and I find myself smiling for the first time in days. I already feel like today might just be tons of fun.

***

After three hours of shopping, we finally found the dress. It’s perfect, and not to mention, the only one Nadya and Darya have claimed to love so far.

I smooth out the green silk over the curves of my ass and turn to the mirror, watching it hug every curve. The halter is tied tight behind my neck, and the cut in front is low, but thin, making it classy and sexy at the same time.

“I love that leg slit,” Nadya whistles from where she sits on the couch.

“And your back looks gorgeous,” Darya adds.

“Yeah?” I turn to them. “So you think I should get this?”

“A hundred percent. Val is going to lose his mind,” Nadya says, jumping off the couch to circle me as I stand on a small platform in the private fitting room.

“That's not the goal,” I protest weakly.

“Oh come on!” Nadya laughs. “We know how obsessed you are with each other!”

“Obsessed? That’s a strong word.” I quirk an eyebrow at her.

“We aren’t blind, you know? We’ve noticed how you circle each other like hungry wolves. So madly in love,” she sighs.

My head snaps up, and my heart begins to stammer. “Love? Well, our marriage isn’t exactly like that, you know?”

“We’re aware of the details,” Darya says, gently. “But we can see beyond that.”

Both sisters exchange a look that makes me want to crawl under the plush carpet.

“It's written all over your face whenever someone mentions his name,” Darya adds, trying to be helpful.

“That's ridiculous,” I argue, but my cheeks flame red. “We had a huge fight yesterday, anyway, and I’m not really in the mood to impress him, let alone even speak to him.”

“Every couple fights.” Nadya shakes her head knowingly. “But why don’t you tell us what happened?”

I recall the details of our fight, but it seems way too personal to divulge. Even if I’m mad at Valentin, I realize I don’t want to badmouth him to his sisters.

“It doesn’t matter,” I whisper. “He was way out of line.”