Unwanted Sacrifices (Russkaya Mafiya Book 3) (7 page)

Another reason why I worry so much about Nikoli—or any of the other guys—finding out I have such strong feelings for him is that they may separate us. For all I know, Nikoli could feel uncomfortable enough to want to leave completely.

It’s not as if I lust after him every moment of the day, but there are times I catch myself just gazing at him. He’s gorgeous. Any woman would have to be blind not to notice him. I’m not ready to be apart from him yet. It would probably be better for my heart, but I’m apparently a glutton for punishment.

I’ve even woken up a few times in the middle of the night either holding him or finding him holding onto me. Luckily he’s sleeping so he doesn’t realize it. Once we started sharing the same bed a few months ago, I couldn’t stop my body gravitating towards his in the middle of the night.

He keeps me warm when I get cold, and his scent surrounding me helps me to fall asleep. He’s woken to me being pressed up against his body plenty of times, but he just gets out of bed quickly, pretending as if it didn’t happen, or like it’s not a big deal. Perhaps he’s shared a bed with another woman who was just a friend? I don’t want to think about that, so I push those thoughts back and concentrate on the wonderful people surrounding me.

We have an amazing evening filled with laughter and good food. Before I know it, the night is over and the next two weeks take us by storm with orders, crafts, food, fittings, and other preparations for a whimsical Russian wedding.

A MASTERSON WEDDING

We long for fairytales

In a world full of nightmares.

–Natalia Crow

Time flies when you
busy yourself with so many tasks daily and before I know it, two weeks have passed us by in a blink. It seems like just a few days ago we were sitting at Elaina’s kitchen table, talking over all of the details. Our crazy days of planning and preparing have finally come to an end.

I missed being away from Nikoli so much, but I’m glad we got a little bit of distance. When I’m with him all day—every day—I catch myself pushing the boundaries. There will be little looks here and random extra touches there. I sit closer to him. I sleep next to him. I sit with him for meals and prepare his food. It’s almost as if I am his wife, only without the title and the lovemaking or kisses. 

Today was the magical day for Elaina and Viktor, and everything went off without a hitch. I had no idea so much work and creativity would go into a smaller sized event, but I still look forward when I’m hopefully able to do it again—for my own wedding. Oh who knows if I’ll even get married at this rate? I may just grow to be an old maid, lusting after a blond Russian hit man who doesn’t return my feelings. Occasionally I’ll catch him flashing me a weird look, but then I brush it off, not wanting to call him out on it and make him feel awkward.

The wedding was a beautiful afternoon ceremony held down near the beach in a white wooden gazebo, decorated with sheer white fabric and twinkle lights. By the time the bride and groom were finished exchanging vows and sharing a blistering kiss, the twinkle lights were more pronounced—the epitome of romantic.

Everyone looked so beautiful all dressed up, and the guests seemed to enjoy themselves. Emily and I did whatever we could to make things less stressful on the bride, and she got to relax a little.

It’s truly an honor that Elaina trusted me enough to help her pull off this whole shebang. I know if Viktor had it his way, he’d have just hired a team to take care of it all and sat back to bark orders occasionally.

I couldn’t be more pleased for my newfound friends and wish them many years of happiness to come. Maybe Viktor will get lucky and Elaina will be pregnant when they return from their honeymoon. He plays it off that he isn’t quite ready to share Elaina with anyone else, but I can see them very content someday with a few children running around. I’m confident they’ll both make splendid parents.

I like to think we did a great job decorating and ordering all the different foods. Viktor’s grandmother baked a massive three-tiered cake that tasted like a fluffy, vanilla-caramel piece of bliss. I’m thinking I may speak to her about making mine someday—that woman has a gift!

Personally I would prefer a snowy Russian wedding, but I could easily see how at ease Elaina and Viktor seemed being on the beach surrounded by loved ones. The setting sun and the twinkle lights were a perfect ending to the sweet vows they proclaimed to each other.

They’re so lucky to have found such a true love in each other; I envy that. The afternoon seemed like one big dream and I’m sure the other guests felt the same way. I hope one day I’ll get my chance to have all of that too.

The downfall, however, is the clean-up of this place. Thank God the cleaning crew we hired will be able to get majority of it. I wonder if someone put the cake topper aside for Elaina. I know she wants to keep that memento safe and sound. Lucky ducks were going to visit a few different countries. I’m sure Viktor will be spoiling her plenty on this trip. I can’t wait to see what she comes back with, besides a tan and possible baby bump.

“Hey, Blondie?” I tug on his black and white pinstriped suit jacket.

We’re all gathered around in the front since Viktor, Elaina, Spartak, and Alexei just left for the airport. We wanted to get our good-byes and waves in with the rest of the crowd. I didn’t get a chance to speak to them, but I got a hug and kiss on the cheek from Elaina telling me she would miss me as she was pulled away by her new husband.

“Da?” He leans over so I can reach up and talk in his ear. The man is a mountain compared to my stature, and half the time he misses some of the things I say if we’re in public.

“I just thought of the cake topper. I need to get it for Elaina. I would hate for something to happen to it.”

You never know who might steal it or if it got mixed up in the trash and thrown out. She’s become too good a friend to me, and I promised to take care of things and I meant it.

“No problem. Stay on the path so the guards can see you.” He nods and I squeeze his arm to me a little. He smirks at my pathetic attempt of an arm hug and I make my way to the back.

Another downfall of having the wedding next to the lake is trekking in my heels back and forth. I hate these damn things. My feet were made for flats and flip-flops.

That’s another thing Elaine and I have in common—our love for comfortable shoes. As a wedding gift I got her a pair of low top glitter chucks. She declared she was wearing them at the wedding and I thought Viktor was going to stroke out. She didn’t, but it was still hilarious to watch him freak out about it. I know for a fact she packed them for their trip, so he’ll be seeing them soon.

I damn near twist my ankle and it’s the breaking point…
Screw this.
The important stuff is over with, so I’m taking them off. As I pass by mine and Blondie’s place, instead of carrying my tan pumps with me, I throw them towards the door and head to the beach.

If I were lucky, Nikoli would follow me down here and profess his love for me, but I know that’ll never happen. That would be so romantic if he would take me to the gazebo and kiss me passionately, declaring his undying love and devotion.
Clearly I read too many books.

I finally make it down to the gazebo and tents full of chairs, tables, food, etc. I’m surprised to find it completely deserted. I must have beat the clean-up crew because everything is just how we left it before sending off the bride and groom. It looks like a tornado had blown through the place with everything in such disarray.

We picked out a variety of fresh flowers to be flown in and decorated each table in a different color and type. The tent was decorated in understated elegance, just like Elaina. The tables were adorned with thick white table cloths, flowers in rich, vibrant colors held in clear crystal vases, the cake display set up with sparkling crystal candelabras, and glass vases full of fake white pearl beads.

It felt like a celebration for a true princess and Viktor was pleased about it. He even suggested I throw Elaina’s next birthday party. Could the future hold a profession of event planning for me? Hmmm—not sure I’m up for all the work that comes with it.

Well, it was gorgeous until the guests arrived and pretty much acted like it was a free-for-all Sunday buffet. Ugh, people are so damn messy—pigs, the lot of them. How hard is it to throw out your trash in a bin?

Anyhow, I’m back here for the topper. Viktor had surprised Elaina by ordering a beautiful set of Russian hand-carved and painted bride and groom figurines. The figures look remarkably like the real bride and groom and the one that looks like Elaina even has a crown atop her head, just like the real one worn in the ceremony.

A few napkins should work just fine to keep them safe until I can have one of the guards get me the case for them, I think.

I carefully place the small portion of leftover cake on one of the heavy crystal platters and place the silver cake cutter next to it, then wrap up the toppers in napkins and put them on the same platter as well.

Searching over the food tables, I eventually find some foil that I use to securely cover the platter. That should suffice until I make it to the cabin and can rewrap everything separately. I don’t know how Viktor and Elaina are about their traditions, but I want to put the cake in their freezer just in case they want it for their first wedding anniversary. It will taste gross by then, but it’s the meaning that counts.

I don’t know if Elaina wants me to save anything else. Perhaps I’ll send Vivian and Mishka down here to see what they think. Surely Viktor’s grandmother and mother should know what he would want to keep or if there’s anything that they would want. With that, I grab the platter and make my way to the tent exit.

I pass a striking man on my way out of the tent. I’m not familiar with him, but he’s in a navy suit so he must have just blended in with the others. The invites said black and grey suits only, but clearly he didn’t get that memo.

“Excuse me.” I nod politely and he steps to the side a little for me to pass through the open doorway. He barely gives me a large enough area to squeeze by without hitting him, but I make it by anyway.

“Sabrina.” He nods briefly and my name spilling from his lips takes me by surprise, enough so that I pause.

“Yes?” I squint, running my eyes over his features, slower this time. “Do I know you? I apologize but I don’t recognize you.”

I’ve met many people over the years when I’d go out to dinner or wherever with my father. I can’t remember three quarters of them or their faces when I think of it. I was always in my own little bubble, daydreaming about something, reading a good book or worrying about what my sister was planning for me next.

“No ma’am, you do not know me, but I know you.” He shifts, partially blocking my exit. His voice is Russian with a slow southern twang to it. I’d guess he’s used to being in Russia but when he comes to America, he only visits the deep south.

I raise my brows to him, my stomach tightening and go to move past, when he catches my arm tightly. The platter wobbles slightly, the cutlery inside clinking.

“Excuse me!”

He leans in close enough to my ear to growl out a threat. “You make a sound and I will have my men open fire on all these lovely guests out front. I’ve been waiting for you.”

“Are you crazy? Now let go of my arm and you will live.” I can’t help the entitled rich girl coming out; I’m too used to having my father or Nikoli by my side to handle any repercussions.

It didn’t happen often, but occasionally a boy would get a little too brave, and one of them would step in quickly to school the fellow on acceptable manners.
I guess I really have been sheltered more than I’d like to admit.

The man chuckles, amused, his deep timbre causing goose bumps to rise on my arms. The hairs on the back of my neck stand as he grips me even tighter—definitely not the response I was expecting. Doesn’t my voice sound serious at all? I probably sound like a pissed off squirrel.

“You’re hurting me; please stop!” I whimper, tightly holding onto the platter so I won’t drop it.

“Oh Sabrina…I’ve only just begun to hurt you,” the man whispers cryptically before my head goes fuzzy. I think I hear the plate crash, but all I feel for sure is the strong pinch at my side and the immense feeling of wanting to sleep.

“Nikoli?” I desperately cry out.

“You don’t belong here beauty, you belong to someone else. No more hiding from him.” I’m thrown over his shoulder and everything goes black.



You know those times you wish you could go back? You think why didn’t I scream or kick and thrash to free myself? There was a small window of opportunity when I probably could have gotten loose. If I had dropped the platter and taken off in a sprint when he first said my name, there’s a slight chance I’d have gotten away—at least far enough so I could have screamed and gotten someone to help me.

But that’s the problem with getting too comfortable, especially when you’re involved with the Mafiya, because when it comes down to it, no one’s ever safe.