Chapter 5 - Arina

I eventually crawl into the bed to get some rest. The house is pretty silent, but I can't help but toss and turn.

This guy, this Igor, whoever he is, seems to believe that my half-brothers are going to care that he's forcing me to marry him. He hasn't done his homework then because my half-brothers have pretended I don't exist my entire life.

I groan. The bed is comfortable, and the house is peaceful, but I'm ill at ease.

I picture Igor standing in front of me, his large frame towering over me and those large hands enveloping mine.

I can't help but wonder what else about him is… large.

I try to push the thought out of my mind. He's an enemy. I mean, for hell's sake, they kidnapped me when I was about to execute my plan with the Milovs.

I toss and turn until, eventually, I'm so exhausted I fall asleep. I wake up not knowing where I am at first.

Then I remember.

I'm at my kidnapper's estate.

The door opens, and a dark-haired beauty sweeps into the room.

"Hello, I thought you'd be up already. I've brought breakfast with me so you can eat while we're busy."

"Busy doing what? Who are you?" I ask as I climb out of bed and slip into my shoes.

"Oh, sorry, that's right. We haven't met. I'm Yvonne." She steps forward and holds out her hand. I shake it, somewhat confused.

"I'm Arina. I'm confused. What are we busy doing?" I ask again.

"Getting you ready for the wedding, silly. I've brought the most beautiful gown. The tailor will fit it to you, then we'll go downstairs to Igor…"

I interrupt her, holding my hand up. "Woah! I'm not marrying anyone, least of all Igor. I demand you release me at once. Can't you see, this is being done against my will?"

Yvonne purses her lips, and I realize she doesn't have much say in the matter. "Eat some breakfast, go on. The pancakes are nice and hot and rolled in brown sugar and syrup. One of my favorites."

I don't move, and Yvonne pops her hands on her hips. "You'll get nowhere on an empty stomach."

She has a point.

I go over to the table and sit down. I use a knife and fork and tuck into the pancakes. They are delicious, just as she described them. Very sweet, though. I eat as much as I can before I turn to see a woman come in with a beautiful white gown and another one with a basket of towels.

"You're not getting me into that," I protest.

"It's the only way you're leaving this room," Yvonne retorts. "Unless you don't want your freedom."

"Listen, I don't know what Igor thinks he can accomplish with this, but if it's to get back at my half-brothers, there's no point. They don't care about me," I say.

Yvonne motions to the gown. "Have a shower, and then get into the gown. You can tell me all about it."

I frown and stand up, kicking my shoes off. The woman hands me the basket, and I take it to the bathroom. I close the door behind me.

I can't believe I'm doing this. There must be a way out. Maybe once I'm out of this room, there'll be an opportunity to run. I'll have to take my chances.

I take the towels off the top of the basket to find expensive shampoo and conditioner beneath it. The basket also holds a luxurious body wash and body lotion, a hairbrush, a toothbrush and toothpaste, and clean underwear.

I blink at the thoughtfulness of it but then dismiss it as a way to soften me toward them. They won't win me over so easily. However, I will enjoy the things they've brought, as I have no other choice. Besides, I have a terrible taste in my mouth, and I was worried about not brushing my teeth.

The water in the shower runs hot, and the shampoo smells wonderful. I take my time—on purpose—then slowly dry off and wrap a towel around my body and hair.

When I come out of the bathroom, Yvonne, the woman, and someone new are waiting for me. "This is the tailor," Yvonne says. "He'll adjust the gown to fit." Yvonne smiles at me and indicates the gown the woman holds up for me.

I turn my back on them before I climb into the gown. The tailor fastens it and starts to fix the bodice so it hugs me.

My heart hammers as I try to figure out what to do next. I need to try a different tactic. Maybe the problem is that I don't know enough about Igor to figure out what to do.

"Fine, can I at least know more about my husband-to-be before I get blindly married?" I ask, looking at Yvonne.

"Stand still," the tailor commands.

Yvonne moves to stand in front of me. "What do you want to know about him?"

"Who is he? I know nothing about him or your family." I look at her, and I hope the frustration is showing in my eyes.

"He's the head of the Sidorov family and has been now for going on eight years since his father died. We come from Russia, which you can obviously tell, and he has two brothers and two sisters, including me, though I'm adopted." She smiles brightly. "Our family is very welcoming if you give it a chance."

"Who is the guy that kidnapped me?" I ask.

"Matvey," she says with a large sigh. "My older brother. What am I saying? All three of my brothers are older than me. Okay, there's Igor, Matvey, then Henri. Then Yulia and I are actually a few months apart but the same age."

I nod, paying close attention. "And your parents died?"

She nods. "When I was younger, then I was taken in by Igor's parents. Only his mother is still alive, but she refuses to leave Russia. Henri and Yulia are there supporting her and running the family ventures there." She clasps her hands in front of her. "You look so beautiful."

"You are ready. It was actually a great fit." The tailor stands up and brushes himself off. "I'll take my leave."

Yvonne goes to the door and takes a box from the guard standing there. "Are you a size seven? I got these in six, seven, and eight, just in case."

She opens the box to show some white diamante-encrusted pumps. Perfect for running in.

"I'm a six," I say. "My adopted siblings always teased me for being small."

"Petite is beautiful. I always feel like a clumsy oaf, and besides, you've got all the right curves in all the right places." She smiles, takes out the size sixes, and kneels down to help me get into them.

I look into the mirror. It's a puffy ball gown with off-shoulder puffy sleeves—something a princess would wear, really. There's a big white bow at the back, and the bodice is encrusted with…

"Diamonds, real diamonds," Yvonne says. "Same as the shoes"

"I'm sorry?" I ask. "I thought they were…"

"Fake? I wouldn't do that to you. You may have to go through this against your will, but at the very least, you can have some opulence."

I run my hand over the gown. "It is beautiful, thank you. I think this is a mistake, though."

"Igor would have thought it out," Yvonne says confidently. "He wouldn't make a decision like this lightly. Come on, let's get your hair done."

The woman guides me to the dresser and helps me sit on the stool. It doesn't take her long to dry my hair and then style it into curls. She has a talent. She clips more diamonds into my hair before applying a hint of makeup. I blink at the image in the mirror.

"You're stunning." Yvonne claps her hands. "Come, let me take you to the ballroom."

"How am I not surprised there is a ballroom?" I comment as I follow her out of the room. I consider making a run for it then, but the guards stick with us, and I don't think I'll make it out the front door. There must be another way out.

I walk slowly, taking in the layout of the house. Yvonne doesn't seem rushed. She is a nice woman, unlike her demanding brother. Or is it her cousin? I guess if she's adopted, it's her brother.

This family is all kinds of confusing.

We walk into the ballroom where Igor and Matvey stand with a tanned man. He's definitely not Russian.

Igor smiles at me. "You look beautiful."

"You're making a mistake," I say, trying to plead with him. "This won't affect my brothers the way you think it will."

"You just don't know the effect you have. Don't be so humble," he comments. "Come, there's no arguing. We're getting married."

He takes my arm, and we stand in front of the tanned man. When he speaks, he speaks with a Mediterranean accent, like Portuguese.

I barely listen to what he says because this surely can't be real. He's giving an actual speech about love, acceptance, and a lifetime together.

I don't know who Igor is spending his life with, but he's not spending a lifetime with me, that's for sure.

This… priest, if I can call him that, makes us turn to face each other. Igor doesn't take his dark eyes off me for a second. He's really intense. I can feel his desire rolling off him in rapid waves.

He takes my hands. I try to pull away, but he gives me a stern look, so I relent. There's no point putting up a fight now. I need to find the opportune moment.

"Do you, Arina Milov-Maia, take Igor Sidorov to be your lawfully wedded husband? To have and to hold? Through sickness and health? Until death do you part?" He looks at me with a smile.

I'm about to shake my head when Igor gives my hands a small squeeze. Instead, I nod slowly.

"You need to say it out loud," the priest whispers.

"I do," I say without a hint of fear in my voice.

"Do you, Igor Sidorov, take Arina Milov-Maia to be your lawfully wedded wife? To have and to hold? Through sickness and health? Until death do you part?"

Without missing a beat, and his eyes trained on me, he says, "I do."

"By the power invested in me by the state of California and before all who witness today, I hereby name you man and wife. You may kiss your bride."

I can't think of anything worse than kissing this man, but he pulls me into his arms and kisses me before I can protest. His lips are warm and taste like caramel toffees.

I hold the kiss for a moment before pulling away.

The few servants present, and Matvey and Yvonne, clap as we turn to face them.

"Everyone can help themselves to food," Igor says. "Tonight, we celebrate."

He turns to the priest. "Thanks, Estivador. It was a nice and short ceremony."

"Just covered the basics," he says. "I'm going to find me a cocktail."

Okay, so maybe not a priest. Maybe just an officiant.

Igor turns to me. "You look even more beautiful than the day I met you."

"That was yesterday," I comment. "You've known me for less than twenty-four hours."

"We have a lifetime to get to know one another. Love can grow even from the harshest places." He leads me to where the food is, buffet style.

"Oh, I'm so happy for you," Yvonne says as she comes over. "Congratulations."

"Uh… thanks," I say.

I can't believe I'm married to this fucking idiot. Not only do I not want to be married, but I have plans for revenge that I can't execute if I'm tied down. Now, this Igor guy is standing in my way.

I wonder if I can poison him without risking my life.

He steps away from Yvonne and me to speak to his brother, and I pick at the food.

"Don't worry," Yvonne says. "You'll be given more freedom once you prove you're trustworthy."

She picks up a cake and bites into it. "Hmmm, I do love rich cakes."

I pick at some grapes. I'm hungry despite my fury. I don't want to give them the satisfaction, though, that I'm settling in.

"So, I'll be allowed to leave the house whenever I want?" I ask since she's the only one who's talking to me.

"Of course, and when we want to go do something girly together without the boys knowing, we'll just take the secret passage by the kitchen and sneak out." She smiles brightly. "I think we're going to be really good friends."

She seems a little naive, but that has now played in my favor—a secret passage near the kitchen. I can find that and use that to escape and go back to my life. Or start a new one.

I give Yvonne a reassuring smile, then tilt my head. "Oh, is there a bathroom nearby?" I ask. "I need the ladies."

Yvonne points to the door. "Sure, it's to the right, four doors down."

"Thanks, I'll be right back."

I glance around and walk out of the room. I see the stairs and head that way instead, walking down them quickly. I survey the area and see the kitchen. I hurry that way and look around, trying to press against the wall and moving objects. Then I notice a closet door nearby.

I open it and move the jackets out of the way to reveal the passageway behind it.

Yes!

I close the closet door behind me and hurry down the dimly lit passage. It's longer than I thought, and I'm getting anxious to reach the end when, out of the silence, a voice rings.

"Where are you going?"

It's Igor.

I start running, but it isn't easy in the gown, and he catches me quickly. He presses me against the wall and looks deep into my eyes.