Page 126 of Married to My Sis’s Bratva Fiancé

Isabella froze.

Matteo smiled and tossed a steel pen onto the contract.

"Smart."

I walked to the table.

The contract ran over twenty pages. I didn't flip through it. I opened straight to the signature page.

In the corner of my eye, Elena lowered her head.

Not in defeat.

Her shoulder, hidden behind the chair back, moved—small, controlled. A piece of metal on the chair's back edge was sawing the rope, slicing into her wrist.

The muscles at the back of my neck tightened. She hadn't waited for me to save her. She'd made her own opening.

I picked up the pen and hovered the tip over the line.

"All routes?" I asked.

"Every last one," Matteo said.

"Warehouse and docks?"

"Mine too."

"My people won't listen to you."

"When they see your signature, they'll learn."

I kept my questions slow on purpose.

Each one bought Elena seconds.

Her right shoulder dipped.

One hand slipped free.

Isabella's focus stayed on the contract. She stood to Elena's right, gun still in hand, but her trigger finger had drifted off the trigger.

Matteo leaned in, eyes glued to the signature.

The gunmen watched me.

They all wanted to see Morozov bend.

I set the pen down.

Kiryan Morozov.

The pen dragged across the paper.

I wrote it slowly, like those letters could really hand over my entire life.

When the last stroke landed, Matteo's shoulders loosened.

Isabella smiled.