Rupert inhales slowly. “You seem shocked. Perhaps you overestimate your importance in this family. Did you think Gustav dying would leave you the queen of a bratva? No. Your safety and title die with him.”
The insult slices clean.
I swallow. Hard.
“I know my role,” I whisper. “I want to help him keep his bratva. His name. His legacy.”
“Then he must stop behaving like a madman.” Rupert’s voice dips. “The Yellow Card lasts one year. Five lives total.”
“I know.”
His gaze cuts into me. “Your husband has already burned through two.”
I jerk upright. “Two? No, he’s only used—”
“One?” Rupert’s eyebrow lifts. “No. He is reckless. Took you as a bride and another life he shouldn’t have. And if he plays his final three badly, you both die. Quickly.”
My chest tightens until it aches. I force myself to breathe.
Rupert continues in a low, almost intimate murmur. “We are watching you both closely. If Gustav breaks a single law, tradition requires we unmake the Sokolov line. Even if the Council must use you as collateral damage.”
“Me?” I echo, throat thick.
“Yes.” He smiles politely. “You.”
I grip the edge of my chair.
He stands and circles behind me.
“Peighton,” he says softly. “I will not wait idly for Gustav to prove himself unworthy. If he falters, I will take action myself. Even if it requires taking you down to get to him.”
I turn slowly.
He studies me with cold expectation. “You are either with the Council or against us. You have one month to choose a side. After that… I will choose for you.”
He slips a small card into my hand, fingers brushing mine with chilling gentleness, then walks away down the shadowed corridor.
The card feels heavier than a coffin lid.
Because now I understand the brutal truth:
If Gustav falls, I fall with him. If he survives, the target is on my back, too.
But there is no world, not one, where I belong to any man but him.
Time is running out.
For both of us.
Chapter 38
Peighton
Masculine warmth surrounds me before I’m fully awake. A heavy arm lies draped over my waist, pulling my back against a firm chest. A slow, steady breath brushes the back of my neck.
Gustav.
Asleep. Peaceful. His body curved around mine like a shield.
