Next, I navigate to Northwestern’s payment portal, access Samantha’s account, and transfer most of the money for her tuition, housing, meal plan, and books. Everything. Paid in full. My finger hovers over the confirm icon. The remaining balance will cover my outstanding bills.
With one click, Samantha’s future is secure. No more worrying. I’ve accomplished the only thing I’ve fought for since our grandmother died. And my sister will never have to know what I’ve done to keep her safe.
Even if I die tomorrow, nothing can stop her from living her life to the fullest.
I press the icon.
For the first time in years, the tight, painful knot in my chest loosens. Whatever happens next, Samantha will be okay. She’ll finish school. She’ll have her life. She’ll enjoy everything I’ve always wanted for her.
I close the browser and erase the history. When I turn around, Alexei is watching me with that same unreadableexpression, but I notice a new gleam. Possessive. Proprietary. Like he’s boughtmerather than paid for Samantha’s education.
Maybe he has.
The thought should frighten me. Instead, a new idea forms, one sharp enough to cut through my fear.
If he owns me, he also owns my problems.
My spine straightens as I face him. “If I’m going to be yours, people will look into me. They’ll find my sister. What happens when one of your enemies decides the easiest way to get to a Kozlov is through his sister-in-law?”
His eyes spark. Not with surprise, exactly. More like respect for a chess move he didn’t anticipate.
He gives a single, sharp nod. “Ifyou’remine,she’smine. I’ll protect her.”
I swallow hard. “Okay.”
A wave of relief crashes through me, so profound I nearly stagger. This sensation leaves me lightheaded. This beautiful, terrifying man can protect Samantha in ways I never could. Shield her from threats I can’t even fathom.
“What else?” Alexei slices through my thoughts.
My mind draws a blank. “What do you mean?”
“What else do you want?” He asks like it’s simple. Like we’re haggling over a car or a house rather than the terms of my engagement-disguised captivity.
What else is there but Samantha’s safety? “How about another glass of vodka?”
A dangerous smile touches his lips. “Now’s your chance,lyubimaya. Being mine comes with privileges. What do you want?”
The buzzing in my ears has calmed down. My nerves aren’t quite so frayed. “Are we…negotiating?”
The smile spreads, warming his eyes with what might be amusement. He prowls back over to the bar, pours more vodkainto the two tumblers, and hands one to me. In the exchange, his fingers brush mine, and a spark shoots up my arm.
Though I accept the drink, I hesitate before I sip. Half an hour ago, I was so shocked that I barely tasted the first pour. The vodka is smooth and cold, nothing like the cheap stuff I’ve consumed before. The liquid burns a clean path down my throat, warming my chest.
What do I want? Truly? For myself? No one’s ever asked me that before. Beyond survival, Samantha, and fear, what’s left of Aurora Madeline Bailey?
The answer rises up, stunning me with its clarity.
“My art.” The words come out soft but certain. “I want to do art. But…I need supplies.”
Surprise softens Alexei’s features. Clearly he expected a different reply. Maybe a flashy, meaningless object or luxury item.
After a long, searching look, he nods. “Done.”
We’re physically closer now, though I don’t remember either of us moving. The air between us thickens with things unsaid. He comes to within an inch of me, not touching but near enough that I feel the heat radiating from his body. Vodka mingles with the clean scent of his soap.
I press a finger against the solid wall of his chest. A barrier. A boundary. “And one more thing.” I try to sound like a cool negotiator instead of a kidnapping victim with her heart lodged in her throat. “No sex. Not until we’re married.”
Perfect loophole, since the actual marriage will never happen. There must be some way out of this forced arrangement.
