I try to move past them as they speak and go to the breakfast nook. It’s the sunniest part of the house in the morning and perfect for breakfast.
Kervyn and Zakhar sit opposite me. I butter some toast as they speak in Russian, minding my own business again.
“Forgive me,” Zakhar says, suddenly looking at me. “We should speak English so Penny doesn’t feel excluded.”
Kervyn hesitates, then nods. “It’s fine.”
“You’re lucky you got Kervyn and not my cousin Luka. There would be women parading in and out this house through various windows at his whim.” He chuckles. “The man is a, what do you call it, player?”
Kervyn smiles and turns Zakhar's attention back to business.
Zakhar’s point does land home, though. Although Kervyn is cold to me in front of his men, he doesn’t bring other women into the house. I almost smile at that.
We finish breakfast, and I excuse myself, but as I reach the door, Kervyn calls out. “Penny, one moment.”
He gets up and comes over to me. “There is a Russian opera on tonight. We’re expected to be there. You will need a more formal dress. Please get one.”
“Do I have to go? I won’t understand a word.” I pout.
“Yes, please don’t argue today.” He looks at me pointedly, and then I tilt my head.
“I’ll go with you, but I then get to visit Asher.” I smile as he sighs and nods.
“Fine, you go tonight and be on your best fiance behavior, and you can see your friend,” He says quietly, as though he doesn’t want his cousin to hear.
“Then I’m going shopping,” I say with a smile.
Getting the dress is easy. Finding flats that fit and match the dress is a little more difficult. In the end, I find a beautiful emerald green velvet a-line dress with a square neck, off-the-shoulder sleeves and a gold trim.
My pumps are sequined with emerald green sequins.
I go home and spend the day pottering around before I get ready to go. I come out of my room and go to wait downstairs for the boys. Zakhar is already there, and as I come down the stairs, he jumps to attention and holds out a hand to help me down.
I smile. “You don’t have to be extra nice to me just because I’m Kervyn’s fiance.”
“I’m being nice to you because you’re a beautiful woman.” He chuckles. “And you seem like a nice person.”
I blush and look around. “Where is your cousin?”
“He will meet us there. He had some business to attend to. Come, I will escort you to the theatre. It would be my honor.” I almost want to trust Zakhar. He is kind, whereas Kervyn is cold. He compliments me where Kervyn no longer seems to bother.
I get in the car, and he goes around to get in beside me. As we drive together, he rolls up the window between the driver and ourselves and smiles. “You look like you could use some privacy.”
“I haven’t had any since I arrived at the mansion,” I say, smiling sadly.
“I’m afraid my cousin can be, what’s the word, demanding. He always has gotten what he wants, even if it’s unfair to others.” I raise an eyebrow.
“You’re not close?” I ask.
“We’re family, but I’m not like his brothers. I don’t think my cousin can just claim people for himself as though they’re objects.” It’s so refreshing to hear.
He smiles and takes my hand in his, squeezing it. “You don’t need to worry. I am happy to take care of you in the ways my cousin cannot.”
I blush and withdraw my hand. I don’t entirely trust him, but I also would like an ally rather than an enemy in the family. “Thank you, Zakhar.”
“Please call me Zak,” he insists.
“Zak.” I smile.
We arrive at the theater, and I see Kervyn standing on the carpet, running up the stairs. The door opens, and he holds his hand out to me. He’s dressed in a fine tuxedo, and I’m surprised at how good he looks. It’s almost as though I’m looking at him for the first time all over again.
Our eyes lock, and I blush as he says. “You have a good eye for dresses. All eyes will be on you as the most beautiful woman here tonight.”
“Isn’t that what you wanted?” I retort.
“I want you to behave,” he murmurs, kissing my hand and then leaning forward to kiss my lips.
I return the kiss lightly, and several people around us gush.
I loop my arm through his, and walk upstairs with him as several people take photos of us. The flashes going off startle me, but he keeps a tight hold on me so I don’t trip up.
“I like your hair up. You have a beautiful face. You shouldn’t hide behind your hair,” he comments as we join the queue to get in.
“Thank you. I assume we’re in the crowd tonight,” I comment, looking around.
“I have a private box.” He smiles, waving and greeting a few people across the room.
“Of course you do,” I murmur.
