1.1 | The Yakuza Bride

Chapter 4

Dress shopping was top of the list for the itinerary of the day, followed by unpacking her things at the apartment. As she and Okaa-san made their way to the elevator, she retrieved a list that she had stuffed into her cross-body bag.

On it were the names of dress shops to visit, all on Federov turf. Her measurements had been sent to them ahead of time, so they all had some outfits in her size. It seemed like a behemoth operation though, and she wondered how much the Federov's had paid to make those shops prepare for her.

A note had been attached to the list as well, assuring her that no expense would be spared, and signed off with a name she did not recognise.

His secretary, she guessed.

'Okaa-san, shall we go on a shopping spree?' she asked cheerfully.

The offer of unlimited expense was tempting, and Hana, as someone who loved shopping and pretty things, couldn't wait to explore the clothing styles available in New York.

Her mother shot her a wry look as they entered the lift.

'Don't go around spending his money before you're married,' she warned lightly.

'But he offered to pay!' she exclaimed, jabbing at the words on the note with some glee. 'No expense will be spared,' she said in careful English. 'It's an invitation.'

She sobered a little as she leant a shoulder against the hard, cold wall of the elevator. The situation had been so surreal the past couple of days but now as her wedding day and her moving in loomed close, she couldn't shake off the feeling that she was walking into some sort of bad dream.

She knew she had always wanted to get married, to have a family. But not to a stranger, and not in this manner.

Not in New York, not to a Russian mobster.

~

A little under an hour later, Hana found herself standing on a raised platform, stripped down to her undergarments and assisted by the store's manager into a white gown.

She had been awkward the whole time, not entirely sure what style of dress she wanted. As dress after dress was paraded before her, her enthusiasm for shopping had waned, and she wished very much to be able to return to her hotel room and bury herself under her quilt. Thankfully, the staff at the dress shop were understanding and calmly recommended several gowns that would suit her.

They were used to dealing with brides who couldn't differentiate between cuts, who changed their minds often, who threw tantrums when a dress in a certain style did not exist. Hana and her mother glanced at each other as a bride at the other corner of the shop complained loudly about a cutting not being flattering enough. She had sped up in her own decision making then.

The dressing room was spacious, consisting of a large floor-length mirror that allowed her to peek at her transformation as worker's buzzed around her. She was glad for the help, although it had been alarming at first to have these strangers surround her as she stood in her underwear.

A portable rack held dresses that she had chosen earlier, together with recommendations from the owner herself. Her measurements had changed; she had grown a little over the year, and so some alterations would have to be made.

The first dress was of a stunning white silk that shimmered under the lights of the dressing room. The gown featured a suggestive v-shaped deep between the bosom with a layer of organza that continued further up to the attached pearl collar at the neck. Seed pearls were woven into the fabric to form motifs of blooming flowers that were repeated on the short train as well.