“Here you are. With packed bags,” I eventually stated, raising my brows as I smirked at her.
"Here I am," she replied. Her tone was calm, but it carried exhaustion, the kind that didn't come from sleepless nights, but from losing everything that gave sleep meaning.
I took a step closer. "I didn’t think you were going to come with them by choice. I thought they would have to drag you by your hair."
She gave a faint smile, though it didn't reach her eyes. "No one has to drag me anywhere. I do things of my will."
Choice, in my world, was something nobody had, especially not her. I tilted my head, studying her. She didn't lower her gaze. She wasn't trembling, not even breathing toofast. Most people couldn't last a full minute under my stare, yet there she stood, hands loose at her sides, face unreadable.
"I don’t need to ask if you know where you are, do I?"
Her gaze drifted around the room, the towering shelves, the Persian rug, and then the grand piano that no one played. "I’ve been at Viktor’s place a few times. Had no idea what yours looked like," she divulged. "It’s luxurious. And cold."
It was the floor beneath my penthouse and not where I lived, but it was still a part of my property. A part of my private residence.
I resisted the urge to tell her she hadn’t even seen the part of the building that actually serves as my place.
“Your father owes us more than he could ever pay. He took the option of not showing up for a sit-down with thePakhan,and for that reason, you’ll be repaying the debt.”
I circled her once, slow, silent—the way I did when inspecting a weapon.
"Yeah, I know that part. You can stop with the antics now," she answered. "What exactly do you plan on doing with me?"
I shrugged, my eyes locked on hers.
Not looking away, she inquired, “Do you plan on killing me?”
I wasn’t expecting that.
Her boldness wasn’t a surprise to me, but hell, her fire intrigued me. It turned me on the way she stood up to me likenobody in her position ever could. But, beyond that, she was beginning to confuse me. I wasn’t sure of how to deal with her.
Isabella wasn’t exactly a stranger to me, although I could count the number of times we’d spoken. Unknown to her or any of my brothers, I’d been watching her for a while. Not quite stalking, just observing. But still, she kept surprising me.
“You don’t seem scared of death,” I declared. “So, you’ll have to live then. In chains, however.”
“What does that even mean?” she questioned, her amber eyes moving swiftly around in confusion.
Instead of answering right away, I circled her again like prey. “In the outside world, debts are paid in the same currency they are owed. But in this world, debts are paid in flesh and loyalty. Your father’s death isn’t an exception.”
I came to stand in front of her as I went on.
“You’re leverage now. That means I’ll have to keep an eye on you by keeping you close. You’ll become my bride for that to happen.”
I didn’t miss the rage that stiffened her expression as I mentioned the word ‘bride.’
Then she sighed, her resignation clear.
I straightened, stepping closer so that the distance between us felt like a taut wire ready to snap. That was when my phone started vibrating.
It was Viktor.
I answered and quickly filled him in on my decision. As the call ended, Viktor’s warning resounded.
This is about debt and punishment, not lust.
“When will we be married?” she queried, her voice cutting into my thoughts.
Between my rising interest in the idea of our ‘marriage’ and the memories of how beautiful she looked back at Giovanni’s funeral, I found myself wondering if there wasn’t some lust sprinkled in here and there.
