"Come inside," I say. "We'll talk there."
She follows me through the front door, down the hall, and into my study.
I pour myself two fingers of scotch, then pause. "Want one?"
She shakes her head.
I take a long swallow, feeling the burn slide down my throat, and turn to face her.
She's standing in the middle of the room, hands clasped in front of her, eyes down, shoulders slightly hunched. Defensive posture. She's bracing for impact.
Christ, I hate that.
"Sit," I tell her, gesturing to the leather couch.
She perches on the edge like she might need to bolt any second.
I set my glass down and lean against the desk, arms crossed. No point dancing around it.
"I spoke with the Pakhan this morning," I begin. “Your father expects you home. Soon."
Her face goes pale. "No. Please?—"
"I'm not sending you back." My voice cuts through her panic. "Not to your father. Not to anyone who failed to protect you. But opposing Volkov’s wishes could bring trouble to my organization. He’s within his rights to demand your return. I don’t have a leg to stand on—as things are currently.”
She blinks. “As things are currently?"
I nod and continue. “There's a way to keep you safe. Permanently. But it requires your cooperation."
Her eyes search mine, wary but desperate. "What way?"
I take a breath.
“Marry me."
The words land between us like a grenade.
She stares at me. Doesn't speak. Doesn't move. Just...stares.
I push off the desk and step closer, keeping my movements slow and deliberate. Non-threatening.
"Listen to me," I say. "In both our organizations—mine and the Bratva—there's an unspoken rule. Wives belong to their husbands. That’s sacred. If you're my wife, no one can take you, make demands of you, or force you to go anywhere you don't want to go."
Her lips part, but no sound comes out.
"Volkov can't challenge it," I continue. "Not if we're legally married. He'll have to respect the boundary. And your father..." My jaw tightens. "Your father will never touch you again."
She's still staring at me like I've grown a second head.
I choose my words carefully. “You need protection, and I can provide it. It solves both our problems."
I don’t say that the thought of her leaving makes me want to burn the world down. That when I held her, I felt something I've never felt before.
I don’t tell her she’s mine and I don't know how to let her go.
Not yet.
Her throat works as she swallows. Her hands twist in her lap.
