Page 71 of Ruthless Addiction

I turned toward the full-length mirror.

For a heartbeat, I barely recognized the woman staring back at me.

She wasn’t the frightened bride Dmitri Volkov had dragged to Lake Como six years ago.

This woman stood tall.

Her eyes were sharp, rimmed with resolve rather than fear. Her body filled the gown with unapologetic presence. The silver embroidery caught against her curves like it had always belonged there. Strength lived in the set of her shoulders, in the quiet defiance of her mouth.

I looked like armor wrapped in silk.

Beautiful. Powerful. Unbreakable.

And still—my stomach churned. Because this wasn’t a wedding. It was a contract.

Three months.

Ninety days of marriage to Dmitri Volkov—signed in blood-red ink, sealed under threats that had nothing to do with romance and everything to do with survival.

A temporary shield against Seraphina and the Orlovs.

No public resistance. No disclosure of the arrangement.

Divorce at the end.

Ironclad.

Three months sounded short when spoken aloud.

But standing there, wrapped in silk and obligation, it felt endless.

Because I knew Dmitri.

I knew his obsession didn’t obey timelines. I knew his promises came with teeth.

“It’s time,” one of the bridesmaids snaps. “Move.”

I nod, saying nothing, and step forward.

“Careful,” another mutters as if I’m an inconvenience. “Don’t wrinkle it.”

They fall in around me, herding rather than guiding.

They don’t take me through the main doors.

Of course they don’t.

Instead, I was ushered down a narrow private corridor that smelled faintly of incense and old stone, the kind reserved for men who didn’t want witnesses and brides who weren’t meant to be admired.

The walls pressed close, gilded icons glaring down like silent judges. Every step echoed too loudly in the hush.

The four hostile bridesmaids trailed behind me like wardens.

The side doors opened.

The nave revealed itself in a hush of gold and shadow.

It was smaller than the cathedral where Dmitri had nearly married Seraphina just days ago, a grand spectacle that had collapsed before it could begin, yet it felt no less intimidating.