It doesn’t matter.
They want her because of me. They want her blood as leverage, as punishment, as bait.
I expected this. Hell, I knew it would happen sooner or later. Noelle wearing my name, my ring, makes her a target. But not this fast. Not when she’s barely taken off her wedding dress.
The timing is a message in itself. A declaration of war.
My hands curl into fists. A part of me welcomes it—the challenge, the bloodshed, the chance to crush whoever thinks they can touch what’s mine. But then I look back at her, sleeping, bruised and marked from me, not from them. She doesn’t even know what storm is circling outside these walls.
My wife.
I swear on everything I am, everything I have built, that she will never bleed for me. Not for them.
They want her? They’ll have to go through me.
And I’ll kill every last one of them before I let that happen.
***
I wake from a deep, dreamless sleep to find Noelle still beside me. She’s curled on her side, hair a dark tangle across her face, lips parted. For a moment, I just…watch her.
I don’t know how long I’ve been out, but it’s long enough to hate myself for it. I should never sleep this deeply. Not when enemies are circling. Not when she’s under my roof.
I swing my legs off the bed and pull on my clothes piece by piece. Shirt. Jacket. Holster. Every movement is quiet, practiced, automatic. But when I straighten, I glance back down at her—and something sharp catches in my chest.
I almost lean down. Almost press my mouth to her cheek. Almost give in to that weakness.
My hand clenches at my side, nails biting into my palm.
No. That’s not who I am. Not what I do.
I turn and leave the room without a sound, closing the door behind me. I make it halfway down the stairs before I see him—sitting like he owns the place, long legs stretched out, an easy smirk tugging at his mouth. Lev Rusnak.
Of course.
I’m not surprised Demyan or the others didn’t stop him from coming in. Lev has never needed permission to walk into my house. He’s one of the few people closest to me.
“Lev?” I frown, slowing my steps. “When did you get back?”
At twenty-nine, Lev is young, but he’s always carried a wisdom and maturity beyond his years. Even as kids, we were close.
For the past decade, Lev has been in London, ten years spent studying international finance and turning it into a fortune. There, he built the perfect pathways to turn all the family’s black money into white. He’s the brain of the Rusnak family when it comes to such things. To most, he’s always been the golden boy—charming, brilliant, untouchable. Many in the hierarchy underestimated him, dismissing him as just a young, pretty face. But Kaz knew better. So did I.
Lev smirks and rises fluidly from the chair, sliding one hand into the pocket of his dress pants like he’s walking out of some glossy London magazine instead of my living room.
“Who would I be if I didn’t show up to wish my favorite cousin a happy married life?”
I roll my eyes.
Lev, of course, looks amused by my lack of enthusiasm. He steps closer and claps a hand onto my shoulder, giving ita firm, brotherly pat. His grin is easy, but his eyes are sharp, already dissecting me like he’s two steps ahead in a game I didn’t ask to play.
“So, tell me,” he says smoothly, “did you really settle for an arranged match?”
I meet his gaze, unflinching. “I did.”
Lev laughs under his breath, shaking his head like I’ve just confirmed his worst suspicions. “Idiot.”
I arch a brow, but he doesn’t give me a chance to bite back.
