“Your man locked me in here!” she snaps.
“It’s according to my orders,” I say evenly. “The room stays locked until the ceremony.”
She frowns, disbelief flickering across her face. “You don’t trust me?”
I don’t miss the flash of indignation in her gaze. I shake my head. “I don’t trust anyone. Best get used to it.”
Her frown deepens. I almost laugh at her defiance.
“Come here,” I command.
She hesitates, like she’s weighing whether to obey a lion. My patience thins. “I don’t like repeating commands.”
Reluctantly, she shuffles forward, stopping a few feet from me. My eyes trace her form—beautiful, defiant, impossible to ignore.
I hold out the black velvet box. “Your ring.”
Her hand hovers for a moment before taking it, the heat in her gaze not leaving mine. She lifts the lid, and the diamond catches the light, scattering tiny flames across the room. Her eyes widen just slightly, awe flickering over her features, and I feel the pull tighten in my chest.
I take the box from her, letting my fingers brush hers as I lift the ring out. My gaze doesn’t waver from hers as I slide it down her finger, slow and deliberate.
It fits perfectly, causing my gaze to lower. I pause, staring at it on her hand, the way it sparkles like fire—like her. My chest tightens, a low, unbidden pull pressing through me.
She shifts suddenly, then she jerks her hand away, eyes flashing, and starts to walk off—but she missteps, almost toppling. Instinctively, I catch her, my hands gripping her waist. Fuck. She’s soft—warm, pliant, impossible. My fingers sink into her clothes, and a pulse thrums low and insistent through me.
She rights herself, pulls back, and murmurs, “Thank you,” in a quiet, almost shy voice.
I don’t respond. I walk toward the door, the heat pressing low, my pulse thrumming in sync with something darker, primal. My body betrays me, but my face remains calm and controlled.
“You’ll have enough wedding dress options,” I say, voice clipped. “Demyan will have them delivered. Choose your best.”
She nods, eyes flicking down briefly before meeting mine again.
I want to tell her about Violet and Sasha being at the ceremony, but I decide against it. She’ll see soon enough. Let her simmer in anticipation.
I can’t stop noticing her—every movement, every sharp tilt of her head, the way her chest rises and falls under those oversized clothes. There’s a fire in her that claws at something inside me, a reckless pull I’ve never felt. She’s defiant, untamed, and it makes me ache to possess her fully, not just in duty but in want. Every inch of her, every sharp edge of her personality—it’s a threat and a lure all at once.
I reach the door, and with a slow, deliberate motion, I close it behind me. The lock clicks, echoing like a verdict. My eyes linger on the handle for a fraction, and then I turn away, letting the sound of the lock seal the space—and the tension—between us.
Chapter 5 – Noelle
It’s been an hour since Niko left, and I can’t stop staring at the ring on my finger. The diamond catches the light in a way that makes it look alive, like fire trapped in crystal. I trace it with my thumb, and something inside me stirs. It’s more beautiful than anything I’ve ever imagined. Magical. Rich. I can feel a flicker of disbelief—how did this become my reality?
I’m in love with it. Not the man—just the ring. But even that thought makes my heart hammer in my chest.
The sudden click of the lock makes me jump. I sit up quickly, thinking it’s Niko. But it’s not him. It’s Demyan, calm and unreadable, flanked by three silent staff members. They’re wheeling in racks of wedding dresses, each one spilling fabric that looks like it belongs in a magazine spread.
I gasp and slide off the bed, my eyes wide, my gaze hovering over the flowing silks and satins. My pulse spikes with something I don’t name yet—excitement, fear, maybe a mix of both.
They don’t speak. Not a word. They roll the racks into the center of the room, arranging them with mechanical precision, then turn and leave without so much as a glance. The lock clicks behind them, sealing me in again with the dresses and the ring and the dizzying reality of what’s about to happen.
I take a deep breath and step closer to the nearest rack. My fingers brush the fabrics, smooth and cool under my fingertips, and I try to imagine myself in each gown, imagining the day that is now inevitable. My stomach twists with nerves and something darker—anticipation I can’t quite control.
It’s quiet. Too quiet. And yet, I can feel him everywhere—the echo of Niko’s presence lingering in the air, in the lock, in the weight of the ring.
I inhale and remind myself: I chose this. Somehow.
It’s past midnight, and I know I need to start getting ready soon, but I can’t bring myself to choose a dress. I can’t tell myself out loud that I’m about to marry a stranger. A stranger who happens to be my ex’s Bratva boss—and mine too. My chest tightens just thinking about it.
