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Rupert inhales slowly. “You seem shocked. Perhaps you overestimate your importance in this family. Did you think Gustav dying would leave you the queen of a bratva? No. Your safety and title die with him.”

The insult slices clean.

I swallow. Hard.

“I know my role,” I whisper. “I want to help him keep his bratva. His name. His legacy.”

“Then he must stop behaving like a madman.” Rupert’s voice dips. “The Yellow Card lasts one year. Five lives total.”

“I know.”

His gaze cuts into me. “Your husband has already burned through two.”

I jerk upright. “Two? No, he’s only used—”

“One?” Rupert’s eyebrow lifts. “No. He is reckless. Took you as a bride and another life he shouldn’t have. And if he plays his final three badly, you both die. Quickly.”

My chest tightens until it aches. I force myself to breathe.

Rupert continues in a low, almost intimate murmur. “We are watching you both closely. If Gustav breaks a single law, tradition requires we unmake the Sokolov line. Even if the Council must use you as collateral damage.”

“Me?” I echo, throat thick.

“Yes.” He smiles politely. “You.”

I grip the edge of my chair.

He stands and circles behind me.

“Peighton,” he says softly. “I will not wait idly for Gustav to prove himself unworthy. If he falters, I will take action myself. Even if it requires taking you down to get to him.”

I turn slowly.

He studies me with cold expectation. “You are either with the Council or against us. You have one month to choose a side. After that… I will choose for you.”

He slips a small card into my hand, fingers brushing mine with chilling gentleness, then walks away down the shadowed corridor.

The card feels heavier than a coffin lid.

Because now I understand the brutal truth:

If Gustav falls, I fall with him. If he survives, the target is on my back, too.

But there is no world, not one, where I belong to any man but him.

Time is running out.

For both of us.

Chapter 38

Peighton

Masculine warmth surrounds me before I’m fully awake. A heavy arm lies draped over my waist, pulling my back against a firm chest. A slow, steady breath brushes the back of my neck.

Gustav.

Asleep. Peaceful. His body curved around mine like a shield.