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“We’re getting married now.”

I try to tug him to a stop, but he’s immovable, still dragging me along to the car. “Wait. No. We can’t just get married right now.”

He doesn’t look at me as he speaks. “You think your father will wait? That he’ll sit on his heels and let the council take their time? No. He’s already mobilizing who he needs to in order to get them to pound down our door and take you away. The faster we get this done, the safer you’ll be.”

We climb into the car, and I’m still considering jumping out the door to get away. How did this happen? I can’t even reconcile it in my mind when we’ve pulled up outside a high-rise, and I’m led up to what I assume is the heart of the Doubeck domain.

The foyer has white rose petals and a small woman I’ve only seen once standing next to Adrian. Her belly rounded, stretching the fabric of her pink sweater. She steps forward when we enter. “You must be Priscilla, right?”

Ivan nudges me out of the elevator toward her. “Uh, yes, you can call me Cilla, though. If you want to.”

She smiles, white and bright, making me feel even worse. “You can call me Val. Come on, let’s get you ready.”

I follow her to a bedroom, and she lays out a white dress on the bed. It’s long and elegant and everything I’m not. “Michail told us your size so we could grab something for you to wear.”

“It’s white.”

Her eyes drop to the dress. “Yes?”

“They told you I’m a whore, right? I can’t wear white on my wedding day.” It’s an excuse, but right now, I’m clinging to anything that can get me out of this. Get Ivan out of this. He’s already helped me enough, and now he’s being punished for it.

Val steps forward, taking my hands, enveloping me in a soft scent I can’t pinpoint. “We kind of specialize in marriage under strange circumstances around here. Ivan is only trying to help.”

“What if I get him killed? What if helping me is why someone uses me to kill him or do worse, like before?” Even though it’s only been a short time, I can already feel something in my chest telling me I have to protect him and keep him safe, no matter what.

Val chuckles. “Ivan is strong, and he knows what he wants. If he didn’t want to do this, you’d be on the next plane to South America. Trust him to protect you, and he will.”

I’m out of excuses and the will to fight. She helps me into the dress, her baby bump nudging me every time she moves within a foot of me.

When I’m dressed, she gently braids my hair and gives me a wide smile. “Let’s get this done so you’ll be safe.” She rubs her hand over her belly absentmindedly.

I follow her back out to the foyer to find Ivan standing in front of a priest wearing a tuxedo. Good lord, if that man wasn’t made to wear them. He shaved, so his face is clean, and I can see his tattoos trailing across his knuckles and up his neck. Seeing each one makes me want to trace the patterns with my tongue.

I step forward, and he takes my hands. “Keep looking at me like that, Malyshka, and we’re not going to make it through this thing.”

It seems like I blink, and it’s over. He slides a heavy diamond onto my finger, and then he’s pulling my face to his for a kiss. By his standards, it’s chaste.

We get about five seconds to look at each other. My insides are scrambled, and I’m not sure if this is real or maybe a hallucination my brain has cooked up because I’m trying to cope with whatever fucked-up experiment my father has gotten up to this time.

What the hell just happened?

Adrian and Valentina shake our hands, and Ivan makes a joke about losing another one, which I don’t understand.

I stare around at the rose petals, soft against my bare feet since we didn’t have matching shoes to fit me. He did this for me? A whore? A nobody?

I just can’t understand it.

Then the elevator dings.

Ivan stiffens in front of me, twisting to shove me behind him. Adrian does the same for Val. I wrestle his hand away to peer around the side of his bicep.

My father walks in like he was invited. “Well, this looks cozy.”

22

IVAN

Arthur steps out of the elevator, wearing a black pinstripe suit. He’s alone, which I think is fucking bold since he’s come into Adrian’s house, my domain, and expected to walk out alive. “Arthur, did you come to give yourself up as a wedding gift?”

His smile is polite but tense. “No, actually. I came to remind you of the terms of our deal and perhaps sweeten it a bit if it means lasting peace instead of a fragile one.”

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