Page 54 of Sadistic

We take a break, me still in the dress because none of us wants the moment to end.

I'm careful as I sit, hyper aware of every movement, terrified of spilling something on what's probably a fifty-thousand-dollar dress, or more.

"Can I ask you something?" I ask Greer as we settle on the plush couches.

"Anything."

"Were you scared? When you married Aleksandr?"

She considers this, sipping her champagne with the kind of elegance I'll never achieve. "Terrified, but I loved him. I was so young, like you are now. Raised in America, and suddenly discovering my true heritageandmarrying into the Bratva."

"But you did it anyway."

"I did." Her smile turns soft, lost in memory. "Best decision I ever made, though it took me years to realize it."

"How did you know?"

"I didn't. Not at first." She looks at Rhiannon, something passing between them. "But Aleksandr... he let me be myself. Encouraged my career, supported my dreams. The violence, the danger—that was just in the background compared to finding someone who saw me as an equal."

"Doran's letting me finish law school," I offer, still surprised by that.

"Because he's smart enough to know that caging a bird doesn't make it sing." Greer reaches over, squeezes my hand.

Her rings are cold against my skin, heavy with the weight of wealth and promises. "My son is many things—controlling, obsessive, probably too protective for his own good. But stupid isn't one of them."

"He's also weirdly romantic," Rhiannon adds, pulling her feet up under her. "Remember when he tried to buy that girl a horse because she mentioned liking them once?"

"He was sixteen." Greer laughs. "And she was terrified of him after that."

"A horse?" Dalla asks, surprised.

"A thoroughbred, wait, no," Rhiannon confirms. "Arabian, I think. Cost more than most people's houses. Dad had to return it and explain that normal people don't express interest via that big of a grand gesture."

"What happened to the girl?" I ask, oddly curious about this piece of Doran's history.

"She transferred schools," Rhiannon says. "Probably still in therapy."

"She wasn't right for him anyway," Greer adds. "Too fragile. Doran needs someone who can match him, challenge him. Stand up to him."

"Someone who threatens to sue his sister for harassment?" Rhiannon grins.

"I didn't actually mean to threaten?—"

"You did. It was beautiful. I've never seen someone shut me down so fast."

"She gets that from Doran." Greer sighs. "The thoroughness."

"What about you?" I ask Rhiannon. "Any wedding plans in your future?"

"God no," she says immediately. "I've seen what this life does to relationships. I'm good with my degrees and my trust fund, thanks."

"Liar," Greer says fondly. "You just haven't met anyone who can handle you yet. And honestly, you know, at some point we’ll find someone perfect for you. The same way, I’m certain, Revna will be for Doran."

"Mum, I'm too much awesome for one person." But there's something in her eyes, a flicker of loneliness that she covers with her humor.

We talk and drink and laugh, and for a while, I forget this is an arranged marriage, that two men are dead, that in two weeks I'll belong to a man who's had me under surveillance for five years.

Right now, I'm just a girl trying on wedding dresses with women who are either my family, or on their way to becoming it.