The Marriage (Darkest Lies Trilogy Book 3), Bethany-Kris [books for 8th graders txt] 📗

you want for me,” she said, pointing toward the larger ring he’d been eyeing, “if I don’t decide to have something made.”

He picked up the princess cut and held it up to the light. It shone even more brilliantly, the cuts of the diamond so pristine and amazing. Even she had to admit she did like it. Just not enough.

“It looks like it was made for the madam,” the man added to the conversation.

Neither paid him any attention.

Roman studied it closely while Karine slipped the other one she preferred on her finger. As strange as it was, she felt an instant connection with it, and like she hoped ... looking down at where it sat on her finger only made her smile.

It didn’t have any embellishments. What you saw was what you got. Perfect, in its own way. Much like Roman.

“But this is the one that is calling to me,” she continued. Roman turned to look at the ring on her finger.

Of course, he wanted to get her the best ring the store had to offer. She was supposed to be his queen, and he wanted everyone who looked at her—or the ring on her finger—to see it was true. Only the biggest and best would do. He wasn’t even the first bratva man she’d met who thought like that—they were who they were.

Karine decided she would get the one he wanted if he looked at it again ... but he didn’t. Roman curled his fingers over her hand, encasing the ring that sat there, and holding tight enough to make her heart skip a beat.

“I told you, Karine, you should get the one you want.”

Her smile was wider than ever.

“I’ll never take it off,” she promised fiercely against his lips when he pulled her in for a kiss that made even the jeweler turn away.

Someone would have to take it from her dead body first.

*

Roman paid for the ring—and while Karine was given a tour of the rest of the jewelry the store had to offer as he did so—he stayed all the way on other side of the room. Despite being surrounded by three ladies who were running a constant stream of commentary, Karine kept glancing over her shoulder to keep her husband in her sights.

It felt better.

She wouldn’t apologize for it.

Obviously, the ladies in their black dresses and sensible heels had decided she was a valued customer—she bet anyone spending money in the place was—and clearly hoped to impress her while they had the chance to make a few more sales.

Unfortunately for them, Karine was more interested in the phone call Roman was making. She hadn’t noticed him speaking on the phones he bought them since they arrived in Vegas. As far as she knew, he had gotten rid of all modes of communication so the outside world couldn’t trace them except for their disposable phones. So, why was he currently on one of the burners, keeping his back turned from the man ringing up the order a few feet away?

From the expression on his face, she could sense the topic of conversation was serious. And he made an effort to keep his voice down as he talked fast.

Roman ended the phone call almost as quickly as he started it, and if Karine hadn’t been watching his every move to quell her nerves, she would have missed it. She looked away with a jerk, hoping he hadn’t caught her trying to eavesdrop. Even if she was too far away to actually hear anything useful.

They were married now.

A team.

She trusted him, yes, but he encouraged her to have a mind of her own, and that meant Karine had questions. Whatever Roman was discussing on the phone had to be important, although she opted not to ask what it was for when he walked towards her with a warm smile, making the sales ladies scatter.

Not too far.

They still wanted to make money.

“Do you see something else you like, babe?” Roman asked, wrapping one strong arm around her waist. “Just point.”

She did.

At his chest.

“I do now,” she whispered in his ear.

His laugh was thunderous and dark, making Karine shiver on the spot, and alarming the people who were apparently waiting on her answer. He dragged her closer, making Karine stare up, and the rest of the room disappear before he dropped a sweet kiss to the tip of her nose.

“Well, then we’ll just have to get the thing I picked out for you.”

“What?” she asked.

“I think you’ll like it.”

Karine couldn’t hide her bubbly, nervous laughter as Roman gave a nod to the man who produced a velvet box from thin air. The same jeweler who had helped them earlier.

In his hand, the man popped open the clasps of a navy velvet box, opening the top. In front of her waited a six-strand diamond necklace—each rope delicate and glittering under the lights. Compared to some of the larger, less functional pieces in the glass cases, the necklace was like her ring, simple but beautiful.

A statement.

“Oh, it’s beautiful,” she said, reaching for it.

Roman grabbed the necklace from the man, and slipped it around her neck. He clasped it without much trouble at all, and then took her hand in his, leading her toward a free-standing, floor-length mirror off to the side.

It wasn’t lost on her that since their arrival, the store had not allowed entrance to other customers. It was just him and her—and the few staff, keeping their quiet distance—as the two came to a stop in front of the mirror.

She toyed with the bottom rope of the necklace, admiring the way it sat powerfully on her neck, hugging her collarbones, and dipping low down her exposed cleavage.

Roman picked the right outfit for her earlier. It showed off the necklace without much effort at all.

“A custom piece,” she heard the jeweler say.

He also mentioned a price.

She tried not to hear that, and failed. The large number made Karine pause, though she didn’t take her hand away from her throat.

“I ... don’t