Her.
My gut knots so hard I have to steady my hand on the table. Not because the ledger shocks me—I’ve lived my whole life knowing how debts like these are repaid. Women passed off, traded like currency until balance is restored.
It’s not the rule that burns.
It’s that it’s her.
Sasha.
I can already see the path this would take if anyone else at this table connected the dots. And I know what the Bratva does to women marked as collateral. How they’re used, where they end up. A beautiful woman like Sasha…no!
My chest feels like it’s caving in. I can’t—won’t—let that happen to her. I barely have time to tuck the photograph back into the file when Niko’s hand shoots out. Quick, sharp. He snatches it before I can stop him.
“Niko—” I start, but it’s too late.
He studies it, his brows snapping together. Recognition flickers in his eyes like a blade catching light. Then his mouth parts in shock.
“It’s Sasha,” Niko says slowly.
My blood goes cold.
Kaz clears his throat, a slight frown on his face. “Care to fill us in?”
The room stills, every pair of eyes turning toward us. Niko places the photo down flat on the table, his voice steady, but I can hear the disbelief threaded in it.
“The Greeks defaulted. The agreement is binding. And per Bratva law….” He looks straight at me, as though testing my reaction. “…Sasha Marino now belongs to us until the debt is satisfied.”
The words hit like gunfire.
I force my face into a mask, but inside, everything riots. Belongs to us. No. No fucking way. Sasha belongs to no one but me. I meant it that night when I told her she was mine. If I can’t have her, no one can. I swear on my life.
“She’s not part of this world,” I bite out, sharper than I intend. My hands curl into fists on the table, veins straining as if I could crush the papers into dust. “She doesn’t know anything. She never asked for this.”
Niko doesn’t flinch. His expression hardens, his tone matter-of-fact. “Neither did half the sons and daughters pledged before her. Vassilis knew exactly what he signed. Collateral is collateral, Lev. Doesn’t matter if she’s aware of it or not—the paper stands.”
The truth stings because he’s right. I know the law, the precedent. We’ve all watched lives swallowed by old debts.
Igor clears his throat, his voice dry as parchment. “There’s a clean solution. Sell her into marriage. A transactionalmatch with a Greek ally. It clears the ledger, restores balance, and avoids unnecessary…complications.”
The words aren’t even cold before my temper explodes.
“No.” The word slams from my chest, low and final. Every head turns toward me. “She’s not merchandise. Not for sale. Not to be handed off to some Greek bastard who sees her as a bargaining chip.”
My pulse hammers. I can feel Niko and Kazmir’s eyes drilling into me, studying too closely.
Possessiveness claws at my ribs. I don’t want her in this world at all—but the idea of her being tied to another man, chained by this debt, makes me want to put a bullet through the wall.
I could clear the debt myself. One transfer, a dozen shell accounts, and it’s gone. But the thought of putting my own money on the table for her—for Sasha—would smell of weakness. Favoritism. And weakness in front of Bratva wolves is blood in the water.
So I do the only thing that keeps her safe and keeps my power intact.
“I’ll take her.”
The words fall like a blade on the table. Every man in the room looks up.
“I’ll marry her.” I let my voice flatten, all business, though my blood runs hot beneath the surface. “The debt is absorbed back into the Rusnak line. The collateral stays in the family. The Greeks get their ledger closed, and no one else touches her.”
The silence is heavy. Igor blinks, slow and calculating, then gives a curt nod. “It has precedent.”
