Satin Princess(96)

“I know this is a controversial question but… did you like her?” I ask.

Yulian raises his eyebrows. “Are you asking if I had the hots for my brother’s wife?”

I shrug. “Might as well while we’re being honest.”

He nods. “Truth?”

“Please.”

“She was nice to me,” he admits. “Sometimes. But I barely had contact with her. We shared a dance on their wedding day. It was the deepest conversation we ever had. Probably the longest, too.”

“What did you talk about?”

“I wished her happiness with her new marriage and she looked… hopeful. Gotta give it to her, she made a beautiful bride.”

Of course I can see that, too. She is a beautiful woman. But it’s still hard for me to reconcile the friend I thought I had with the murderous wife of the man I was in love with.

“She was always easiest when she had things her way,” Yulian continues. “And she certainly got the wedding she wanted. It was the grandest thing I’ve seen in my entire life.”

“It was a big ceremony?”

“A thousand guests,” Yulian says. “She had Rodion book out the entire hotel for the week of their wedding.”

“Wow.”

“She liked to make a statement.”

“I can see that,” I say. “What did she look like?”

Yulian pulls out his phone and starts scrolling up. “I might still have a picture or two on my phone. I don’t usually delete shit.”

It takes him a minute before he finally locates the photo. “Here,” he says, holding it out so I can see.

Immediately, I have the urge to suck in my breath. Not only does Anton look more handsome than I’ve ever seen him—but Marina looks like she was made for him.

She’s wearing a lace dress that hugs her perfect body to perfection. Bits of her tan skin show through the thin fabric. The skirt of her dress is embellished with crystals and silk. It hugs her hips before flowing out to give the shape some drama and body. Her golden hair is piled into a chic but messy updo with a tiara resting on top.

She looks like modern-day royalty.

As if that weren’t enough, Anton and Marina are standing in front of a spectacular backdrop made exclusively of roses. It’s easily a million dollars’ worth of floral arrangements alone. God only knows what their clothes cost.

“Whoa,” I breathe.

I take the phone from Yulian’s hand and stare at their expressions. They look more like models on a job than a blissful young couple on their wedding day.

Anton’s face is composed and confident, but slightly detached. Marina isn’t smiling at all. No, she’s posing. Her jawline is pushed out and her eyes are fixed pointedly at the camera, though she keeps one arm placed possessively across Anton’s chest.

“They look… perfect,” I admit softly.

Yulian laughs darkly and takes back his phone. “Sure, they look perfect. But as you already know, the way something looks is the least important thing.”

“I know that,” I sniff.

“Then why do you look so miserable?” he asks suddenly. “Should I not have shown you that picture?”

“No, it’s okay,” I say, feeling bad for making him feel guilty about it. “It’s just… I guess it reminds me that they’re still married. Technically speaking.”

He snorts. “Jessa, trust me—they were never really married. Their union was always a sham, a way to bolster a political alliance that should probably have never been made in the first place.”

“I know. But at the end of the day, she is his wife, right?”

Yulian looks at me regretfully. “You’ve been cooped up in this mansion too long. How about a drive? We can get some fresh air.”

“That actually sounds amazing,” I say, rising to my feet. “Let’s do it.”

The thought of getting out a little is maybe exactly what I need right now. “Great, I’ll bring the car around and—”

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

We both turn in the direction of the angry voice. Anton is standing there, watching us both with furious eyes.

“Yulian was just suggesting a drive,” I say weakly.

“I heard,” he snaps. Then he turns to his brother. “You realize Marina is watching our every move, right? I thought I made it clear I didn’t want Jessa leaving the mansion anymore until the bitch was taken care of.”

Yulian flinches and his shoulders drop. “She was upset. I thought I’d—”

“Cheer her up?” Anton demands. “That’s not your fucking job.”

“Breathe, Anton,” I protest. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Get back in the house,” he snaps at me in a tone that scares me just a little. He hasn’t spoken to me like this in a long time.

Something is wrong.

I stare at him. “What happened?”

His gaze flickers to Yulian. “Yaromir just called me. Marina made contact with him.”

Yulian freezes. “Okay. And?”

“We’re in play. Get ready and meet me out front.”

Yulian hurries past me without another word and disappears into the garden, heading towards the house. I take a step towards Anton when we’re alone again.