Niki’s POV:


    Okay, so maybe I had said something I shouldn’t have.


    Obviously, I’m not used to cleaning, so yeah, I might suck at it. Tve never scrubbed a floor in my life, never doneundry either. But <b>cooking</b>? <b>That’s </b>different. Cooking is something I actually enjoy. Not that I had a habit of boasting about it.


    It was just the way she looked at me, like I was some pampered, ipetent rich boy. And I knew I wasn’t. I’d worked for what I had. Maybe not from the bottom like some people, but I’d wed my <b>way </b>to where I was, dragging the Vetrov name through fire to make it worth something other than scandal.


    So why the hell was I trying so hard to prove myself to someone who was only going to be my wife for a year!


    God, what was wrong with me.


    I needed to shut this down. Compartmentalize. Focus.


    <b>This </b>is a contract. A transaction. Nothing more.


    She gave a small nod, her eyes flicking back to the contract. “Okay… cohabitating at my ce <b>until </b>Mom’s better, then we <b>can </b>shift as needed”


    Shit I couldn’t <b>back </b>out now. That would be <b>going </b>back on my word and that was one thing Niki Vetrov never did. “Alright,” <b>I </b>said, nodding. She kept reading, eyes scanning the uing pages. Then, she suddenly huffed a quietugh.


    “I don’t think I <b>have </b>enough gowns to attend this many balls


    Her sarcasm was dry, but the amusement in her eyes inade something twist in my chest.


    “Don’t worry.” I said, smirking. “You’ll have more than enough to <b>wear </b>one every day of the year as my wife.


    She blinked. Her mouth opened, then closed, and for once, she didn’t have aeback.


    It was… weirdly satisfying.


    She sighed, brushing her hair behind her ear. The gesture was <b>innocent</b>, but the curve of her neck <b>and </b>the quiet vulnerability on her face hit me square in the gut. I looked away, swallowing tightly.


    And then-


    She signed it


    Just like that.


    A <b>neat</b><b>, </b>elegant signature at the bottom of the page


    She <b>handed </b>the pen back to me. Her hand brushed mine, and for a second, I didn’t move. Just stared at her. Her eyes, her posture, <b>the </b>slight tremble in her fingers.


    She was trying so hard to stayposed. It was obvious.


    “About the official ceremony..” she trailed off, a flicker of hesitation in her tone<b>. </b>


    “You’re gonna have to <b>give </b>me a little time to get my mother to agree toe to the welding


    “Would one week suffice?” <b>I </b>asked, trying to keep my <b>voice </b>neutral.


    She blinked, surprised. Then she gave a slow nod, That’s okay. Yeah. That’ll be okay


    <b>Was </b>she saying that to me or to herself!


    We finished the wine. She stood up, stretching a little, and I gathered the signed file before locking it away in my office safe. When I <b>turned </b>around, she <b>was </b>standing by the window, arms crossed, the city lights flickering in her eyes,


    I walked over.


    “Now then, dear wife, I said smoothly<b>, </bing to a stop just a <b>breath </b>away. Her head turned, lips parting as she looked up at me. The light from the


    chandelier made her eyes look almost golden.


    I could’ve kissed her.


    God. I wanted to.


    Instead, I leaned in slowly and pressed a kiss to her forehead. Her eyes widened. I smirked at the dumbfounded expression


    “Shall we go and celebrate?”


    She nodded wordlessly, still stunned,


    Iled her out.


    The evening was still young–barely past eight–and the air was cool as we exited the building Lunlocked the car, but this time, she didn’t try to open the door herself. Progress


    She raised an eyebrow when she realized I was heading downtown. “Where are we going?”


    “To get you <b>a </b><b>dress</b>.”


    I can <b>just </b>


    home and change,” she <b>said</b>, looking mildly exasperated. “I haven’t showered in two days. I probably smell.


    I leaned slightly closer, catching the warm notes of cinnamon and vani.


    “You smell like antiseptic and stubbornness,<b>” </b><b>I </b><b>said</b>. “Not unpleasant.


    She huffed augh, but didn’t argue further, I could see that she was ufortable and I had a hunch that she was worried about her mother.


    <b>I </b>knew that worry was valid. However I also knew the doctor that had operated on her was the best amongst the best. And if he had said that Beatrix would recover, then she would.


    Even though I <b>wasn’t </b>that good of a person. I wasn’t aplete asshole


    I wanted to take her mind off of everything that she had just suffered in the past forty eight hours. It was strange…I had expected her to be constantly on the verge of tears when I had heard of her father’s untimely demise.


    Especially when I learned that she was making her way to my office. <b>Don’t </b><b>get </b>me wrong. I wasn’t stalking her or spying on her. Well..not at that time specifically. They were meant for my brother.


    And when one of my men called to tell me about Elena walking in on Dori cheating on her. <b>I </b><b>had </b>gotten just a bit ufortable.


    I mean she was obviously in love with Dminti, why else would she have tolerated that idiot! So two heartbreaks in one day? <b>Yeah</b>, I was afraid that she might get into an ident. I had asked my men to follow her then, keep an eye on her and tell me if something happened.


    I truly hadn’t expected the turn of events that would happen next. Her mother’s condition and the money to pay for it Even then, I <b>hadn’t </b>expected her toe to me. Not until I got the message that her destination was my office.


    And I understood then.


    We entered the luxury store where I knew Natalie–Dmitri’s mother, usually bought her clothes


    However even as we walked <b>inside</b>, Elena didn’t gawk at the extravagance. Didn’t stop to run her hands over the silk <b>or </b>marvel at the prices. She simply walked behind me, arms crossed <b>as </b>she looked around..


    Money didn’t faze her. It was obvious.


    Her saying that she <b>was </b>marrying Dmitri for money was obviously a lie. I knew that kept track of his <b>finances </b>and she didn’t take even a penny for


    him


    I liked that. <b>Not </b>because I <b>had </b>some sort of aversion to gold diggers. I didn’t understand why people found that term degrading. Only mediocre men or impoverished ones would worry about their non–existent gold being dug. Women were expensive, obviously, men should be choosing <b>one </b>in their own price range. Not expect them to lower their standards.


    The reason I liked <b>that </b>she hadn’t <b>taken </b>a penny from Dimitri was simple. Because that meant she wasn’t thatfortable with him. She loved him. But she clearly didn’t trust him. Something about that fact just made me feel…good?


    I wandered through the <b>aisles </b>and selected three dresses


    The first was a soft mossy green that would bring out the earthy tone in her eyes. Flowing<b>, </b>elegant, but understated,


    The second-


    |—a white, shimmering sheath that looked like it <b>was </b>stitched from moonlight and water. It would cling to her curves, catch the light like


    8:35 PM


    a second skin.


    And the third–a simple beige linen dress. Clean lines. Comfortable. Nothing <b>shy</b>.


    Three options,


    Three statements


    I wanted to see which version of herself she’d choose to wear around me.


    I turned and <b>handed </b>them to her.


    “Pick one,” I said simply.


    <b>She </b>raised an eyebrow, “Seriously?”


    “<b>Seriously </b>


    A store attendant appeared at her side like magic. “This way, miss


    She followed him after taking the dresses from me, and I leaned <b>back </b>against the wall, arms folded.


    This woman… she intrigued me in ways I wasn’t used to


    Not because she was beautiful, though she was. Not because she was stubborn, though that helped. But because she didn’t want anything from me.


    Not really.


    She didn’t walk into this contract marriage for the money. But because she wan