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As he turns to leave, I let my posture relax slightly, a hint of defeat in my stance. There’s some kind of surveillance in here. I know it. It’s all part of the plan. The more compliant I appear, the more likely he is to let his guard down. And when he does, I’ll be ready.
“I’ll be back soon.”
I open my mouth to stop him, but the door clicks shut behind him. What is taking so long?
I take a deep breath, forcing myself to stay calm. I can’t afford to lose control now. This marriage may be a trap, but it’s also an opportunity. I’ll use it to learn everything I can about the Bratva’s operations and his weaknesses. I’ll gather every piece of information, every scrap of intel, and I’ll use it to bring not only Lev down but fucking everyone else. My brother won’t even know what hit him.
Tonight, I’ll be his bride, but that doesn’t make me his. Not truly. I’ll bide my time, play my part, and when the moment is right, I’ll strike.
Lev thinks he’s the only one playing a game, but he’s wrong. So fucking wrong.
Sun breaks through clouds on the other side of the heavy drapes. Hope. There’s hope.
I stand in front of the mirror and make my decision. I’ll play along with him. I’ll let him think he won. He’ll expect me to fight, so I’ll give him that, and I might even fucking enjoy it.
Yes. This might work really, really well.
I could get out of here if I really wanted to; I know I could.
Then what? No matter how hard I try, no matter what resources I secure, I’ll never be able to take over my family on my own and claim my rightful position of power. If I could, I’d have done it already.
The odds are stacked against me. But with the help of the Romanovs…
I thought he said he was ready? Now that it’s go time, I’m growing impatient.
Finally, the door creaks open, and I tense, expecting another guard. Instead, it’s Lev. He steps inside, closing the door softly behind him. For a moment, we just look at each other, the silence heavy and charged. This time, he doesn’t glare at me as he did before but looks a bit more… contemplative.
“What?” I ask, my voice sharper than I intended. I swallow hard when his brows draw together and his lips purse.
I remember what it was like being chained in his basement. I remember the erotic charge between us.
He doesn’t respond immediately, just walks over to the window and stares out. His presence is a bit unnerving. I don’t know what to expect.
“They tell me you’re not eating,” he says finally, his tone surprisingly gentle. “You need to keep your strength up.”
It’s the last thing I expect him to say. “Somewhere between ‘you’ll be my prisoner, oh, just kidding, how about my wife,’ I lost my appetite.” I roll my eyes.
“Watch it, woman,” he says in a low purr that makes my skin heat.
I can’t let him see that he’s affected me. I scoff, crossing my arms. “Why do you care? I’m only a pawn in this game. You know that. All you need is a warm body.”
He turns to face me. “Maybe you don’t have to fight this so hard.” He rests his hand on mine. “We’ve received word that your family knows we’re marrying me today. Let the adventure begin.”
My God. So soon, they know? I flinch, unprepared for the sudden wave of anxiety that grips me. The room feels too small, the air too thick. I gasp, trying to steady my breathing, but the panic takes hold. I can almost feel my brother’s hands around my neck, squeezing the air out of my lungs. He tried once before, but one of his beefy captains shoved him off and told him my father would kill him for losing his temper with me.
There are no barriers now. Though I celebrated the day we buried my father, I knew it meant I was fair game to Javier. I can still feel his hands around my neck. My eyes bulging as I clawed at his fingers and gasped for breath. The heat in my face and the bruises on my neck I had for weeks.
I’m struggling for breath. Reminding myself that won’t happen again.
There are many ways to kill a man, and I’ve rehearsed damn near all of them. He won’t hurt me again.
Lev’s expression changes. Frowning, he holds my hand. “Isabella, breathe. Look at me.”
I try to focus, but it’s hard. The walls feel like they’re closing in, and my chest is tight. “I can’t… I can’t breathe.”
“Listen to my voice,” he says, his tone steady and calming. “Inhale slowly, hold it, then exhale.”
I follow his instructions, my breaths shaky but gradually slowing. His eyes never leave mine. After what feels like an eternity, the panic begins to ebb.
