"It wasn't meant to be. But I'll be with you the whole time. And my family isn't as scary as you think."
"You literally told me that your uncle is the head of the Bratva and everyone fears him."
"Everyone except his wife. Jasmine keeps him in line."
"That's also not comforting."
He squeezes my hand. "Charlotte will love you. She's already decided you need 'proper family support,' whatever that means."
"Charlotte is your cousin’s wife?"
"Yes. She was a maid at the main house before Vitali claimed her. Now she's untouchable and terrifying in her own way."
"Claimed her," I repeat. "Do you all really do talk like that?"
"Like what?"
"Like women are possessions."
He tilts his head, thinking. "You are mine," he says simply. "That's not possession. That's fact."
Heat floods through me despite my nerves. The way he says it, so certain and absolute, makes me feel safe and wanted.
We drive for forty minutes, the city gradually giving way to suburbs, then to sprawling estates hidden behind high walls and security gates. The SUV turns onto a private road, and I catch my first glimpse of the Dubovich compound.
It's enormous.
A massive main house that looks more like a mansion, surrounded by several smaller buildings. Manicured grounds. Armed men stationed at intervals, trying to look casual and failing.
"This is where you live?" I ask, voice small.
"My house is there." He points to one of the smaller buildings, though "smaller" is relative. It's still bigger than any house I've ever been in. "Three bedrooms, three bathrooms, full kitchen, private. Our space."
Our space.
Paul pulls up to the main house first. "The Pakhan wants to meet you," Zakhar explains. "Brief introduction. Then we can settle in."
"I have to meet your uncle?” I ask, my voice going higher than I’d have liked. “Now?"
"He insists. But don't worry, Jasmine will be there. She softens him."
"That's still not—"
"Comforting. I know." He brings my hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to my knuckles. "But you'll be fine. Just be yourself."
"What if myself isn't good enough?" I can feel the beads of sweat popping out of the pores on my forehead as I speak.
"It is. Trust me."
The car stops, Paul opens my door, and suddenly this is real. I'm here. About to meet the head of a Bratva family. About to step into a world I know nothing about.
Zakhar's hand finds my lower back, steady and warm. "Breathe, Lily."
I breathe.
We walk up the stairs to the main house. The door opens before we reach it, revealing a stunning woman with dark hair and knowing eyes. She's wearing jeans and a sweater, casual and approachable, but there's something elevated about her presence.
"You must be Lily," she says, voice warm. "I'm Jasmine Dubovicha. Welcome."
