I lean forward, voice low, hard. “You’re not going to work off anything. You’re not going to hustle in one of my clubs or my offices like some debt slave. You’re going to be my wife. That’s it. This conversation is over.”
Her lips part, eyes flashing—but I cut her off with a look. My blood feels hot, furious. Why does she keep trying to escape? Why won’t she see what’s already decided?
She leans back in her chair, lips pressed together, eyes narrowing. “Why? Why do you want to marry me so badly?” Her voice is sharp, but there’s an edge of curiosity underneath.
I take a slow sip of coffee, letting the silence hang. “It’s business,” I say finally, voice calm but firm. “This marriage…it keeps the debt inside the family. That’s all it is.”
Her laugh is short, bitter. “Business?” she scoffs, leaning forward. “Stop lying, Lev. You’re only doing this because you want me in your bed.”
I don’t flinch. I don’t deny it. I let my gaze lock on hers, letting the weight of my eyes speak the truth. The heat building in my chest is impossible to hide.
I lean forward, elbows on the table, eyes fixed on hers. “That’s part of it,” I say quietly, no shame, no denial. “Don’tpretend you don’t remember New York. You proved you wanted me too.”
Her cheeks flush, but she holds my stare. “That night…” I let my voice drop, low and rough, “was unforgettable. I won’t mind having it back.”
She shakes her head slowly, like she’s looking at a stranger. “Even if I marry you, Lev, this is just business. You won’t touch me.” Her chin lifts, defiant. “I don’t care about you at all.”
Something tightens in my chest at her words—anger, heat, something darker—but I keep my face unreadable, fingers curling around the edge of my cup until my knuckles go white.
“If you’re so certain you don’t care about me…” I pause, watching her throat work as she swallows, “…then marry me and prove it. Share my bed and prove I’m just another man to you.”
Her breath catches, but she doesn’t look away.
“You keep calling this business?” I continue, softer but sharper. “Fine. Treat it like business. I’m saving you from a fate that ends in prostitution and, eventually, a bullet. That debt is real. Someone has to pay it. If it’s not money…” I let my gaze drag over her face, “…then it’s you. Repay me one way or another.”
She stiffens, but I don’t stop.
“I’m giving you my name. My protection. My power. You want it to be just business?” I lean even closer, my voice a near-whisper. “Then do your part of the contract.”
Her lips tremble, but she keeps her chin high.
Inside, something dark and hungry twists in my chest. I tell myself this is a negotiation, nothing more. But I know I’m lying—to her and to myself.
She snaps, voice sharp and defiant, “You think I’m just going to roll over and marry you because you say so? You’re insane if you think—”
I cut her off with a slow shake of my head, letting the weight of the room press in. “No, Sasha,” I say, my tone deadly calm. “I’m giving you a choice. Not forever. Not forever to debate, not forever to pout. Until tomorrow morning. That’s your deadline.”
Her eyes widen, fury sparking like a live wire, and I lean closer, letting my presence fill the space between us. “After tonight…if you refuse, I call the Greeks. They take what’s theirs. And I promise you—they won’t be gentle. They don’t play by my rules.”
The words hit her like ice, but I see the fire in her gaze. She wants to fight me, but she also knows there’s no running.
“I’m not bluffing,” I murmur, letting the steel in my voice do the work I don’t need to. “You have until morning to decide. Then it’s no longer your choice.”
I leave my breakfast on the table and walk away.
Chapter 9 – Sasha
I wake to sunlight slicing through the blinds and immediately feel the weight of yesterday pressing down on me. My chest is tight, my stomach still knotted from the conversation I had with Lev yesterday. I roll over, hoping maybe if I ignore the world for a few more minutes, it will leave me alone.
But then I hear a soft knock at the door, followed by the familiar warmth of a voice. “Sasha?”
I sit up and see Noelle standing there, eyes wide, looking both relieved and exasperated. She must have been summoned by Lev, which was very nice of him, I can admit to myself.
“Noelle,” I breathe, pulling her into a tight hug. Her presence is a balm I didn’t know I needed. “Please…pull me out of this mess. Talk to Niko or someone—anyone. Make them fix this.”
I know she must have heard what happened. Her husband, Niko, is very close to Lev, and can talk him out of this madness.
Noelle sits on the edge of the bed, her hands gripping mine, and shakes her head. “Sasha…I’ve already talked to Niko. There’s…there’s no other choice. If they let this go unpaid, the Bratva looks weak. And you—you’re not in a position to repay the debt yourself.”
