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I licked my lips, trying to take his words at face value while feeling apprehensive about the men who had just entered the room. As if he sensed my mistrustful thoughts, he cleared his throat.
“Those are my men. I asked them to be here with me so that I could make sure you were safe, and that Robert’s debts wouldn’t catch up to you before I could get to you first. They are here to protect you,” he explained.
Sergei hadn’t said it explicitly, but it was obvious that he might be just as powerful—if not more powerful—than the men that would come after me. I glanced at the men by the doors, noting that they appeared just as threatening as him, if not more so. One of them had his hand on his belt, resting gently on the butt of a gun. Nervously, I smoothed my palm over Sergei’s chest, eventually finding the unmistakable shape of a handgun with my fingertips stored inside his suit jacket.
“I will pay your husband’s debts for you. That will ensure you are not hurt because of his foolish misdeeds,” he began.
I tensed, trying to read his body language. Was he here to force himself on me? Would he sell my body in exchange for covering Robert’s debts?
Even as I thought those things, somewhere deep down, I knew he wasn’t that kind of man. If he had been, his approach would have been shockingly different. Truthfully, he’d only have needed to press his gun to my forehead to make me do whatever he wanted. What did he want?
“In exchange for what?” I asked, my voice still hinting at my simmering anxiety.
“In exchange for your hand in marriage, I will clear all of Robert’s debts.”
I took a deep breath, trying to think logically while my emotions swirled inside me like a category five hurricane about to slam into shore. My heartbeat had started to quicken, my anxiety getting the best of me.
“How do I know what you’re saying is true?”
“I will take you to my home after the ceremony, and I will show you the records of his gambling debts. I have proof of everything he kept secret from you.”
I sat back, gazing into his eyes. My gut feeling was that I could trust him, yet my head was holding me back.
“Why would you want to help me?”
“I’ve seen women like you ruined by men before, and if I can stop it from happening to someone else, I want that chance. Let me protect you. Let me give you a life, knowing that he gambled away every bit of your future.”
His steely gaze had turned warm, and though he didn’t say it explicitly, he was begging me to say yes. Every single syllable from his mouth felt genuine, and even though I had a thousand misgivings about what I was about to say, I said it anyway.
“Yes.”
“Yes, what?” he prodded gently.
“Yes, I’ll marry you.”
He sighed with relief, his gaze sparkling with joy.
“Thank you, Natasha,” he murmured. He lifted his arm, raising a single finger, and I looked up to see the priest emerge from his chambers. When his eyes landed on Sergei, he bowed his head in reverence like he knew him.
“Whenever you two are ready,” he said, taking a spot by the alter.
“Right now?” I squeaked.
Fuck. This wasactuallyreal.
“The sooner you become Natasha Reznikov, the safer you’ll be. My name will afford you a great amount of protection and respect here in the city, and I want to give you that right away,” he explained.
It made sense, but it was far sooner than I had anticipated.
“Al… alright,” I answered, my hesitation more than a little obvious. My fingers clutched at him, and I realized that I felt a bit reluctant to leave the protective embrace of his arms.
“When you’re ready, we’ll begin the ceremony,” he whispered, his voice soft and understanding. “Listen, I know this is a lot all at once and probably more than a little overwhelming, but I want you to know that it will all be okay. As my wife, you’ll be mine, and I protect what’s mine. All I need is for you to trust me, and I know that’s a hard thing. But I promise you that my intentions are good. I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”
The men in the room said nothing, keeping their eyes on the floor not in fear, but in respect. Just from a surface glance, I knew that these men were fiercely loyal to him. Tentatively, I curled against him and breathed in the heady scent of his cologne once more. I studied his body language, taking note that his fingers gripped me firmly, but in a possessive way rather than a controlling one. He seemed to know his strength, holding me just hard enough to comfort me, but not to hurt me. There wasn’t a single thing about him that told me I needed to be afraid of him.
When I was finally ready, I took a deep breath and shifted. He gently let me go, and I put my feet on the floor, standing up on shaky legs. He grasped my upper arm and steadied me.
Could a man like him be sweet?
