8. Zara

8

ZARA

“I feel like a giant marshmallow.” I can barely stand to look at myself in the mirror.

I’m pale, and my eyes are red from lack of sleep. I’m about as far from a blushing bride as you can get.

“I think you look like a princess.” Emily sighs, clutching her hands to her chest as she gazes at me.

I look down at the big puffy tulle skirt and lace bodice and feel as if the air is being sucked out of my lungs.

Alexei pulled some strings and managed to get me a last-minute appointment at one of the most luxurious bridal boutiques in the city. It seems you can get in anywhere for the right price.

We’ve been taken to the VIP room at the back of the store where my own personal stylist, Clara, has set up a rack with potential dress options as well as boxes of shoes and countless veils.

It’s the epitome of luxury, with bottomless champagne and plates of mini macarons to enjoy while we browse the countless couture dresses .

My stomach churns as I think about how much money this wedding is going to cost, and it’s not even real.

The sight of all the wedding dresses on racks and the pictures of the blushing brides in the catalogs has me fighting the urge to vomit.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. I’m not meant to stare down at my engagement ring and feel such guilt. I’m meant to feel overjoyed at the thought of walking down the aisle and saying I do to the man I love.

But sometimes, life throws you curveballs in the shape of Giovanni Saccone, and you do what you have to in order to survive in a man's world.

The wedding is only a week away, and there’s so much to do. Emily and Bianca are working overtime to help plan and organize everything.

I wish we could take our time, but Giovanni is becoming unbearable, and I’m starting to crack.

I’ve barely slept since he took over as my boss. The nightmares are following me everywhere, and I’m a nervous wreck, constantly looking over my shoulder.

The ring on my finger only made him laugh—as if he could see right through my fa?ade.

I’m starting to worry that even when I am legally a Koslov, it won’t stop him, and the fake marriage will have all been for nothing.

“Are you not enjoying yourself?” Bianca steps up beside me to look in the mirror.

She takes a sip of her champagne as she looks over the dress.

It’s stunning, with a plunging neckline and lace sleeves.

“Of course, I am,” I lie.

“You’ve been dreaming about this moment ever since you were a little girl.” She offers me a reassuring smile.

“Now that it’s actually happening, I see all of this as irrelevant.” I wrinkle my nose.

“What do you mean?”

“My love for Dimitri is what matters,” I lie. “Not how big the wedding is.”

“Who knew Zara, the ice queen, had such a mushy side.” Emily laughs. “Though, if my fiancé looked anything like Dimitri, I would turn into a lovesick puppy too.”

“I am not lovesick.” I glare at my sister in the mirror. She’s lounging on a pale cream chaise lounge, a glass of sparkling cider in her hand.

“Uh, have you seen the way you eye fuck him?”

“ Emily ,” I hiss. “I do not eye fuck him.”

“Hey, I’m not judging! The guy is drop dead gorgeous.”

Bianca chuckles, shaking her head as she grins at my sister.

“The Koslovs are a ridiculously attractive family.”

“The youngest one is cute…” Emily muses. “What’s his name again? Daniel?”

I glare at her. “It’s Danil, and he’s too old for you.”

Emily scowls, flicking her blonde ponytail over her shoulder. “I’m nineteen.”

“Exactly.” The last thing I need is for my baby sister to get caught up with the Koslovs. If anything happened to her, I would never forgive myself.

The heavy, pink, satin curtain is pulled across, and Clara appears carrying yet more boxes of shoes in her arms.

“How are we getting on?” She has a bright smile on. She’s effortlessly elegant, with her dark red hair swept up into a sleek updo, and she’s wearing a black, fitted dress and the highest heels I’ve ever seen.

“This one is perfect.” Emily sighs .

“Perhaps a bit too much lace.” I run my hands over the skirt again.

“Not a problem.” She flashes me a smile. “We can try something a little simpler.”

It takes both Clara and Bianca to help me out of the dress, the huge skirt taking up most of the dressing room.

I’m sweating as I step into the next one, my flushed cheeks doing little to help my tired complexion.

Clara finishes fastening up the next dress—a tight fitting ivory satin gown that hugs my curves. “Have you thought about colors for the bridesmaids?”

“Uh…” I glance at Bianca, and she grins.

“Lilac. It’s your favorite color.”

I force a smile. “Right… Lilac.”

“We have a few different styles to choose from that come in the most stunning lilac color. Let me see what we have in stock, and we can always order others in if you don’t like any of the styles.”

“Thank you,” I choke out.

The moment Clara disappears behind the curtain in search of options for the bridesmaids, I stumble off the raised platform in front of the mirror.

“C-can you undo me.” I claw at the clasps down the side of the dress. I can’t take a full breath, and a thin film of sweat is breaking out across my top lip. “ Bianca .”

I place a shaking hand on my heart, trying my best not to hyperventilate as Bianca makes quick work of undoing the dress. I let it pool to the floor, leaving me shaking in nothing but my underwear and a pair of ivory heels.

“Zara, are you okay?” Bianca places a comforting hand on my shoulder.

“I just need a second,” I whisper, screwing my eyes shut .

“Emily, why don’t you go and get Zara a glass of water?”

The curtains rustle as my sister leaves.

Bianca touches my arm. “Zara…Why are you so upset? I don’t understand…”

“It’s just so…overwhelming.” I open my eyes, cringing at the sight of my half naked, shivering body in the mirror.

“Getting married is a big deal.”

“I don’t know how you did it, B.” I sigh, spying the diamond wedding band on her finger.

“I have no idea either, but I’m lucky that it worked out in the end. I don’t know what I would have done if it hadn’t.”

“Mmm…”

“Are you sure there isn’t something you want to tell me? This is so unlike you.”

“I-I’m fine.”

“I don’t know, something still feels off about all of this.” Bianca narrows her eyes as she looks at me.

“Is it because I didn’t tell you about Dimitri?”

Bianca shrugs, trying not to look hurt. “I mean, yeah, there is that.”

Part of me wants to remind her that she did exactly the same to me, that I wasn’t even at her wedding to Alexei, but that would be a low blow.

Bianca had no choice in the matter when it came to her wedding day. She might have planned most of it, but she was under the impression that her cousin Rosanna was going to be the one walking down the aisle.

She was robbed of the most important day of her life.

And now I’m robbing her of the experience of being a maid of honor by being a blubbering, guilt-ridden mess.

I really need to get my shit together. So I wipe my eyes and plaster a smile on my face as I glance over at the rack of dresses, determined to make the most of this experience not just for me, but for my best friend too.

“Is there anything backless?” I ask.

“I just can’t get over your ring,” Clara sighs, reaching for my hand once we’re done paying. “Your fiancé has very good taste.”

“He does.” My cheeks heat as I remember Dimitri getting down on one knee, the kiss that followed…

I’ve thought about that kiss every day since.

How it felt to have Dimitri’s hard, muscular body pressed up against mine.

It’s been a long time since I’ve thought about being intimate with someone. I’ve put up walls that I thought no man would ever be able to scale.

But it seems Dimitri has managed to find a crack in the foundations, worming his way through with his good looks and kissable lips…

I am so screwed .

After the dress and accessories have been finalized and paid for, Bianca insists that she needs to get back home to Leo, leaving Emily and me to grab dinner together in the city.

We head over to Soho and find a spot to eat at one of my favorite Italian restaurants on West Broadway. There’s barely ten tables in the entire place, with red and white plastic tablecloths and cheap plastic flowers in vases, but it has character. Every inch of wall is covered in pictures of the family who have owned the place for generations.

Emily turns to me after the waiter has brought over our food. “Are you happy with your dress? ”

“I am.” After giving myself a little pep talk, I found myself starting to enjoy the process of trying on dresses, if only to see the happiness on Bianca and Emily’s faces every time I stepped out of the dressing room.

“Dimitri is going to love it.” A knowing smile spreads on her face.

I roll my eyes as I tuck into my margarita pizza.

“So, what’s the deal once you’re married? Are you guys getting a place together in the city? I assume Dimitri’s not going to move into your tiny studio.” She chuckles.

“Uh, we haven’t discussed it.”

“Don’t you think you should?” Emily tucks into a slice of her pizza.

“I guess I’ll move in with him.”

“Lucky.” She sighs.

I frown as I pick at my food.

Our living situation isn’t something I’ve given much thought about, but Emily makes a good point. It would be weird if I didn’t move in with Dimitri.

Does he expect us to get our own place together? Or would I move into the penthouse? Would he be there all the time or would I be left to rattle around in some ridiculously huge mansion by myself?

Suddenly, I’m no longer hungry.

“And just think, if you have a baby pretty soon, it could be best friends with Leo, and I would get to be an auntie!”

“Emily…” My hands start to sweat.

“I could come over and babysit all the time, and we could go to the zoo or to the history museum?—”

“Just stop !” I slam my hand down on the table.

Emily flinches, and the people at the neighboring tables glance our way, but I don’t care .

“Zara?” Emily reaches across the table to take my hand. “What the hell is going on with you? You can talk to me.”

I shake my head, my throat thick with tears as I look at my sister. She’s so excited for this wedding and to be a bridesmaid, and now she’s even talking about kids.

How can I tell her it’s all a lie?

But this is so much bigger than just a wedding, this is my life , and I might lose my mind if I don’t tell someone the truth, and I sure as hell can’t tell Bianca.

“Zara…”

“It’s all fake,” I blurt out.

Emily’s eyes widen for a moment as she stares at me. “What?”

“Dimitri, the marriage… It’s all fake.”

“I don’t understand.” Emily pulls her hand back. “How can it be fake? You have a ring, we just bought your wedding dress… I don’t understand.”

“Dimitri and I… We made a deal.”

“A deal? Why the hell would you make a deal to get married?”

“I… I…” I can’t seem to find the words to explain. I choke back a sob at the look on Emily’s face, at the betrayal in her eyes.

“Zara, are you in trouble? Is that what this is about?”

I lower my eyes, fiddling with the ring on my finger as I try to decide how much to tell my sister.

“My boss has been harrassing me, and it’s getting out of control.”

“What do you mean harrassing?”

“It’s not important…”

“ Zara .”

“Emily, please. You don’t need to know all the details, but I needed a way to get him off my back.”

“So, faking a marriage was the answer?” Emily shakes her head. “What happened to emailing HR or…”

“You don’t know this man, Emily. He’s powerful.”

“So, leave!” Emily runs her hands through her hair. “Does it have to be so extreme?”

“Being married to Dimitri, being a Koslov … It means something.”

“What does Dimitri get out of this? Surely, he’s not just doing this because you’re nice to look at.”

“He has his reasons for needing to get married…”

“Let me guess, you can’t tell me.”

“I’m sorry .” I reach for her hand.

Emily’s eyes well with tears as she looks at me, but she doesn’t pull away from me this time.

“Do Mom and Dad know?” Her voice wobbles.

“No, and you can’t tell them, Emily. I’m serious.”

Emily’s shoulders slump as she looks down at her food.

I thought telling her the truth would lighten the weight on my shoulders, but it seems to have only made things worse.

“I’m so sorry for lying, Emily.”

“I just hope you know what you’re doing.” She lets go of my hand.

So do I.