“This is insane! You can’t do this.”
“Why not?” He stalks forward, eyes burning with command. In one swift move, he grips my chin, forcing my face up to his. “Who’s going to stop me?”
“I don’t want a husband,” I grit out. “Especially not one like you.”
His gaze flares at that, something vicious twisting in his expression.
“You could do worse.” His thumb glides ever so slowly over my mouth. “And let’s be honest…you’ve already had worse.”
His arm wraps around my waist, dragging me flush to his chest. I feel every hard line of him, every ounce of power.
“So let me tell you how this is going to go. Father Pasha will marry us. And my cousins, Maksim and Dmitri, will serve as witnesses.”
Konstantin’s grip tightens.
“You will stand beside me and say yes. Because if you try to run, you won’t get far. And if you disobey…” He leans in, mouth brushing the shell of my ear, words dropping to a deadly whisper. “I’ll chain you to me like my favorite accessory, so tight you’ll forget what freedom ever felt like. You choose, Tessa.”
His words echo like a gunshot in my skull. This isn’t protection. This is ownership.
But as I look around—at the priest calmly flipping pages in his Bible, at the two cousins watching like this is their Friday night entertainment, at the guards posted like gargoyles, I realize…
There’s no way out.
My fingers twitch at my sides. My stomach flips.
Think, Tessa. Think.
I could scream. I could make this difficult. But what would that get me? A tighter leash?
Or worse, him deciding I’m too much trouble to keep breathing.
I swallow while my heart won’t stop hammering.
But the truth punches through the chaos: this might be the best move I have.
If I’m his wife, I’ll have more access. I can use that.
Even if it means selling a piece of my soul in the process.
Fine. You want to drag me into this hell? I’ll walk in smiling and burn you from the inside out.
“You’re an absolute psycho. How the hell do you think forcing meinto this is how you protect me? What world do you live in?”
“Are you really asking me that?” His knuckles roll down my cheek, and I almost wonder what kind of husband he would be.
A savage in the bedroom and a saint outside of it? At least to the woman he loves.
Except he doesn’t love you. Sure, maybe he cares, but you’d be as good as dead once he learns who you are, so enjoy this marital bliss while you can.
“This is what I want,” he says, voice low and final. “And whether you admit it or not…a part of you wants it too.”
“No, I don’t.” My glare narrows.
He steps closer, crowding my space, dark eyes burning with ruthless certainty. “It doesn’t matter. This is happening, because I need to keep you safe. And I’ll do it with or without your permission.”
“You’re an asshole even when you’re trying to be chivalrous. You know that, right?”
“You’ll soon learn it’s all part of my charm, Mrs. Marinova.”
