The silence stretches, sharp as a knife. His stare pins me in place, unblinking, deadly. I hold my breath and cross my fingers inside my clenched fist, praying he doesn’t see through me, praying he doesn’t kill me for daring to ask.
I’ve always dreamed of a fairytale wedding. And if this—thisnightmare—is all I get, then God help me, I’m going to claw at the edges of it until I can make it look like the dream I once had.
Finally, he speaks, voice low and even, too calm to be safe.
“Do you have family you want to invite?”
Shame burns through me as I shake my head. “No. Just…my friend Violet. She’s Kaz’s wife. And Sasha Marino, my roommate here in Chicago. That’s all.” My throat tightens, but I push on. “And I want a dress. A proper officiant. In a church.”
The moment the words leave me, dread slams into my gut. I’m pushing too far, prodding the lion again. My chest tightens as I wait for the bite.
But he just stands there, silent, watching me like he’s deciding whether to grant me this scrap of humanity…or tear it away.
A low, humorless chuckle escapes him. “Don’t get it twisted,ogonek. I’m not here to give you the wedding of your dreams. This”—he gestures between us, his voice cold and precise—“is purely business.”
I lift my chin, refusing to let the fear show. “I’m asking for the bare minimum.”
His dark eyes flicker over me, sharp and calculating. “No family?”
“No,” I whisper. My throat feels tight. “Just…friends. Violet. Sasha. That’s all.”
He pauses, his gaze holding mine, and for a moment, the silence between us is heavier than any cage. Then, finally, he nods once, curt. “Fine. It will happen.”
The words land like a lifeline, though I know better than to let relief creep too far in. This is still Niko Volkov-Rusnak. The Pakhan. Dangerous, ruthless, and utterly unpredictable. But for now…for now, I’ve carved out the barest thread of control.
“And I’m not marrying you without a ring.”
His lips curl into a smirk as he walks all the way to the door and disappears outside.
Alone, my heart hammers in my chest. Wait. What just happened?
Did I really just agree to marry a Bratva boss?
Is this some twisted dream?
Just a few hours ago, I was telling myself I’d never speak to a Bratva soldier—let alone date one. And now…now I’m about to marry the Pakhan?
My mouth falls open. I’d think this is a nightmare if the handcuffs around my wrists weren’t still biting into my flesh. This is real. It’s fucking real.
I feel panic crawling up my throat, but I force myself to breathe, slow and steady. Niko agreed to let Violet attend the wedding, which means I’ll see her soon. I need her now more than ever.
When she told me she was marrying Kaz, I tried so hard not to judge her. How could she not run? How could she let him… love him? Even now, seeing them so in love, I still worry. I wish she’d taken off when she could.
And now…I’m in the same position. There’s no running. No escape. I can’t go anywhere. I’m in it. Fuck.
And then there’s Sasha. How the hell do I explain this to her? That her roommate of over a year is a med school dropoutworking in an underground Bratva clinic…and is now about to marry the Pakhan?
Oh no.
The door opens, and one of the guards steps inside. I stiffen, expecting violence, but he doesn’t touch me—he just unlocks the handcuffs. My hands are free, and I rub them, wincing slightly from the marks.
“Get up. Follow me.”
The guard’s tone is softer now, unlike how rough they were earlier.
My hands rub against each other as I rise, the stinging from the handcuffs still fresh. My heart hammers, but I force myself to keep steady.
I trail behind him, my eyes widening as we leave the interrogation room. The hall opens into something I’ve never seen before—rich, sprawling, and impossibly luxurious. The walls gleam with polished dark wood, accented by gold trim.
