Page 73 of Betrayal and Vows

I sigh with disappointment.

I wish one of the rival families would attack.

Kill them. Kill them all.

Mikhail leans forward, scooping fluffy eggs onto his fork. “I’ve decided we’ll live at the dacha after the wedding,” he announces, smiling like he’s offering her a generous gift. “The house you loved as a child. I’m having it restored as a surprise.”

Lena stills. Just slightly. Her hand freezes around the porcelain teacup.

Her mother, Elena, offers a too-bright smile. “The dacha? That’s… unexpected.”

Her voice is higher than usual. Clearly, she’s picking up on the nefarious move.

Mikhail shrugs. “It’s private. Secluded. Exactly what the future Mrs. Orlov needs. Somewhere quiet, where security can be controlled.”

Controlled.

It has shit to do with security.

That’s not what will be controlled.

I glance at Lena.

She’s smiling like a hostage told to wave at the news cameras. Her eyes flick to me. Just for a second. A flash of panic buried under that pretty smile.

She knows what it means.

So do I.

The house is isolated. No neighbors. No cell service. Barely accessible in winter. She won’t just be married. She’ll be caged.

I clear my throat. “I’ll need to inspect the property.”

Mikhail waves his fork. “Of course. Full security overhaul. Cameras. Motion sensors. Pressure pads if needed. Build a fortress.”

Elena’s gaze shifts to me. I can’t tell if she’s angry or happy. Lena has an excellent teacher when it comes to hiding her emotions.

“The house has been empty for nearly twenty years,” Elena says casually.

I’m certain she’s just dropped a breadcrumb.

I pick it up.

“I’ll need to identify weak points. Assess vulnerabilities and plan the new installations myself.”

Elena nods as if she’s agreeing. “I think that’s a good idea.”

I watch her watching me.

What the fuck is her game?

Lena keeps her face neutral, but her hands tremble slightly when she folds her napkin. She hasn’t touched her eggs.

And then I see the tiniest quirk of her lips.

I know that look.

She’s up to something.