Page 28 of His to Own

“Why is he doing this to me?” I cry.

“You do know he is going to force you into that dress no matter how ripped it is.”

“I don’t care.” I get to my feet. “Did you know about this?”

She hesitates.

“Did you?”

“He told me this morning. Just like you. I am sorry, Elena. I wanted more for you.”

“So why can’t you do something?”

She wrings her hands together. “There just isn’t anything I can do. Your father has made up his mind. This is happening.”

“What do you know about Mikhail Kozlov? Is he… is he kind, at least?”

Another hesitation.

“Mom,” I whisper. “Please. Just tell me.”

She sighs. “No. No he’s not nice. I know he abused his last wife. I always believed that’s how she died.”

“And you’re going to let Father marry me to him? Why does he hate me so much? He never hated Lana or Adriana like this. Why me? What have I done to him?”

“There is nothing you did, Elena. You’re just paying the price of other people’s sins. Now, put that dress on and keep your head held high. I don’t want you to look frumpy on your wedding day. Only the best for my girls.”

I blink, startled by her change in conversation. “Mom. How can you let this happen?”

“Because your father is in charge of this household. Not me. And we both have to pay the price.”

“What are you talking about?”

She walks over to the dress and picks it up. “Let me help you into it. Now, Elena.” Her tone speaks to no disagreements.

I know there’s no getting out of this.

But as I let my mom help me into the dress, all I can think about is Adriana’s words. How I need to learn to fight. Professor Burgov also told me the same thing.

I’m not a fighter though. I never have been. And I don’t know how to change now.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” Adriana mutters on the car ride to the church. My ripped wedding dress still fits me. Father keeps looking at me with a sneer, clearly not happy I tore the dress. But there’s no changing things now. Not when he planned the wedding for today.

To a man I have never met.

“Adriana,” Father says. “Be quiet.”

She falls silent and offers me a concerned look. I wish Lana were here. She would know how to stand up to our father. I never got her bravery.

The church comes into view. A grand Russian orthodox church. Elaborate and ornate. A thing of beauty but right now, it’s only the stuff of nightmares.

My legs tremble as I get out of the car. Father grips my arm, not letting me leave. There’s no chance for me to run.

The four of us walk into the church. It’s practically empty except for a couple of people in the pews and a priest at the end of the aisle… and the man beside him. Grey hair. Fitted suit. Dark grin. Mikhail.

At least he’s not overweight and balding like Sergei was but given the fact that Mikhail’s last wife died mysteriously doesn’t offer me much more comfort. He’s a bad man.

Mother holds Adriana’s hand and forces her down the aisle until they make it to the front pew. Then it’s mine and Father’s turn.