Only later did I learn that Kholod Morozov was the architect of our ruin. He'd lumped my family in with his enemies.
The man I'd saved had killed my father.
How bitterly ironic.
So when he appeared with that bracelet, proposing marriage, I was stunned by his audacity.
I thought my outright rejection would deter him.
I was wrong.
He didn't relent. Instead, he began stalking me, a persistent shadow infiltrating every corner of my life.
That's why I agreed to the blind date my mother arranged, enduring the man's repulsive stares and touches.
Between him and me, my father's death would always loom.
Even if I'd saved him. Even if he'd married me now. Even if my heart still raced uncontrollably every time I saw him.
I hated him. Hated myself even more for it.
"Madam?" The maid's gentle voice interrupted. "The water's getting cold."
I opened my eyes, feeling tears slide down my cheeks, mingling indistinguishably with the bathwater.
Once the bath was over, I slipped into the silk nightgown they'd prepared—though I despised the feel of silk against my skin; it always left me chilled. I asked the maid to fetch a robe to drape over it, finally feeling some warmth.
The maids bowed and withdrew, leaving me alone in the room.
I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at this unfamiliar, opulent cage. I knew what was coming next.
I was his lawful wife now. Tonight was our wedding night.
I drew in a deep breath, forcing myself to stay calm.
No matter what, I had to find a way to escape. I couldn't remain by my father's killer's side.
"What are you thinking about?" Kholod pushed the door open, carrying in a rush of cold air and the heavy scent of cigar smoke. He said nothing more, just approached from behind, his towering shadow engulfing me completely.
"When I can leave," I replied without turning, my voice as flat and lifeless as stagnant water.
He let out a low laugh. "Noelle, you still don't understand. The moment you set foot here, leaving became impossible."
I turned to face him, meeting those amber eyes that gleamed unnervingly in the dim light.
"Why?" I demanded, my heart aching, but my composure held firm. "Why me? Philadelphia is full of women desperate to marry you. Why choose me?"
"Because you're destined to be mine." He advanced step by step, his gaze turning predatory. "What you did the first time we met—do I need to remind you?"
"I don't know what you're talking about." I averted my face, hiding the panic in my eyes.
"Don't know?" He seized my chin abruptly, forcing me to look at him. "Then why did you react so intensely to that bracelet?"
"Because you used some sketchy bracelet to blackmail me into marriage!" I wrenched free from his grasp and stood. "Kholod Morozov, who do you think you are? You believe money and power let you do whatever you damn well please?"
"I'm your husband."
"A man who used threats and family debts to force me? You call that a husband?"
