Chapter Seven

Emma

I was very nervous and my now husband had already noticed that. But he chose to ignore my existence.

We're on his private jet now, heading to our honeymoon, which I still don't know where.

To help a little, I try to strike up a conversation with him.

"Can I have a drink?"

"Yes!" he pours me some champagne.

I'm just like this so I don't spoil the mood today. But I'm not always going to act like a submissive wife if that's what he's thinking.

"You still haven't told me where we're going."

"Rome Italy."

"I've never been out of the country before."

"I know" he knew because he never allowed me to leave the city, much less the country.

I raise the glass of champagne to my lips and drink it all at once. I'm so nervous that I can't control my gestures.

"Mr. Mikhailovich" he looks at me intently "I know this is not a good time, but I just wanted to know about my brother."

The mobster looks at me for a while, seeming to consider whether to answer me or not.

Why does Boris have to be so me