Page 49 of The Bratva Sinner

“Now?” I shoot another glare around Outlaw’s neck. “Likerightnow?”

“Is there a reason to wait?”

Yes. No. I don’t know. My heart is racing. This is actually happening.

“I need to...” I gesture vaguely at myself. “Clean up or something.”

“You look fine.”

I look down at my jeans, which are covered in horsehair. My T-shirt isn’t much better. My hair is in a messy ponytail. I smell like a horse.

“Fine. This is just what I’d hoped to look like at my wedding.”

He comes around to my side. “Lila, this isn’t a wedding. It’s paperwork. We sign some documents, file them, and it’s done.”

I try to hide my disappointment. “Oh.”

“Is that a problem?”

“No.” I busy myself with putting away the grooming supplies. “That’s fine. Makes sense.”

It does make sense. This is a business arrangement. A solution to a problem. It’s not a real marriage. There’s no reason to make it into something it’s not.

Except that some stupid part of me hurts. The part that used to dream about white dresses and flowers and a handsome man in a tuxedo watching me walk down the aisle. My mom wearing a pretty dress and crying as I say my vows.

All things that will never happen.

I’m practical. Tough. I don’t need fairy tales.

“Let’s go,” I snap. “I want to get this over with.”

“Lila—" His soft tone is too nice. I don’t want pity.

“I said let’s go.” I push past him, not wanting him to see the emotion on my face.

I stride across the property toward the house, very aware of Maksim following a few steps behind. He doesn’t catch up or walk beside me. He gives me space.

Cinder is waiting in the foyer. She takes one look at me and raises an eyebrow.

“Really? You’re getting married in that?”

“Apparently it doesn’t matter what I wear,” I mutter.

“Let’s do this,” Maksim says.

I follow them down the hall and into his office.

A woman I’ve never seen stands near the window. She’s older, maybe in her fifties, with black hair pulled into a severe bun. She shoots me a pitying look.

“This is Mrs. Clark,” Maksim says. “She’s a notary.”

The woman pulls out several documents. I pick one up and notice that my name is already filled in. Lila Reynolds. Soon to be Lila Sokolova.

My stomach does a weird flip.

“How did you get this without me?” I ask.

“I have connections,” Maksim says.