Chapter 1
ANNA
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Yesterday, I married a stranger. I still can’t wrap my head around it. Now, I sat in his extravagant manor that feels more like a lavish trap, bound to a man I met mere hours before we said our vows.
His name is Gleb Romanov, Russia’s most feared name, whispered like a curse.
Yesterday was my first step on Russian soil. I've spent all my life in Italy under the protection of my father who ran his own cartel.
Steam curled around his sharp figure as he stepped out of the bathroom. His presence presses in on me, suffocating and heavy. He was breathtaking, same as yesterday when I’d first laid eyes on him. Monsters shouldn’t wear faces this beautiful.
“Good morning,” I said, the words scraping my throat. He didn’t look up. “Morning,” he grunted, like it cost him something to speak. I shifted, hauling my dead legs to the floor with effort, fingers fumbling for my wheelchair. They trembled as I settled in.
He just stands there, watching, offering no help.
Before I married this man, it had always been Elisabetta, my father’s trusted chaperone, who helped me bathe and dress. She had followed me here to Moscow to tend to my needs, but calling her now felt... humiliating.
I hesitated. Then, quietly, I asked, “Could you call Elisabetta?” My voice is small, hesitant. “I need help bathing.”
Gleb froze mid-button, shirt half-open. His gaze snapped to mine, dark and cold. “Do I look like your fucking servant?”
His voice was a whip.
A lump formed in my throat. "I just thought...”
"There are thousands of people in wheelchairs." He yanked on his tie. His tone is sharp and dismissive. "They manage, so will you, so stop whining."
His words sliced through me like a blade. I tightened my grip on the wheels of my chair. I will not break.
I lifted my chin just slightly, meeting his gaze. His lips twitched, amusement or disdain, I couldn’t tell.
I inhaled sharply, nails digging into my palms. I won’t give him the satisfaction of watching me cry. I won’t cry in front of Gleb Romanov. Not today. Not ever.
But my voice was thinner when I said, "I understand that we’re strangers. We met yesterday, married yesterday. But you are my husband now, like it or not. My legs... they are useless and I need help."
Gleb crossed the room in three sharp steps, boots striking the hardwood like gunshots. My pulse slammed against my ribs as I watched him close the distance between us. He loomed over me, close enough that I caught the faint bite of his cologne, leather and smoke. "You know the purpose of this marriage." His voice was low and menacing. "Serve your duty and give me an heir. Then we can both go our separate ways."
That was when my resolve wavered, a sting burning behind my eyes. "Are you really this heartless?"
His lips curled. He bent, his face dangerously close to mine.
"Heartless?" He laughed coldly. "Why don’t you ask your mother what heartlessness means?" His voice cracked, just for a second, before the ice returned.
His fingers caught my jaw, holding me still. His grip wasn’t cruel, but it was firm. More like a warning.
"I fucking hate you.” He whispered, each word a shard of ice.”You and your entire family.”
Then he let go, the absence of his grip left a sudden void. He stalked out, leaving me trembling in the silence, tears streaking my face despite my fight to hold it in.
My sister, Maria should have been here instead of me. She ran, and I took her place. I wasn’t particularly left with no other option plus I thought I could use the opportunity to claw back the family that the Romanovs stole from me. I stared at the empty space where Gleb had stood, a dull ache spreading in my chest.
Did I hate him? I wasn’t sure. I hadn’t known him long enough to define my feelings yet. But I hoped we could live together, pretend to be a real couple, at least for a while.
I eventually called Elisabetta through the internal telephone.
Fifteen minutes later, she walked into my room.
