The two-story house is decorated in a mid-century modern style, a choice meant to breathe life into the space and keep it from feeling sterile. Warm brown tones dominate the furniture, plants are tucked into corners, and a mix of textures greets you at every turn. At least, that's what my research claimed was essential for this architectural style.
"You don't like it?" I ask, my mind already calculating how quickly I could have the entire place redone to her taste.
She turns toward me, and the glimmer in her eyes doesn't escape my notice.
"It's gorgeous," she answers quietly. "I mean, I might change a few things if it were mine, but—"
"It is yours, Roxanne," I cut in. "You just have to tell me what to change, and it will be done."
She catches her bottom lip between her teeth, and I wonder if she knows she's doing it. Every instinct screams at me to grab her, lift her into my arms, and show her how every inch of this house was built for her.
The source of my inspiration? Her secret Pinterest account, which I gained access to through a small… special operation. I had to convince Maksim to help me, which wasn't easy. I solemnly swore on all the angels in heaven, on rainbows, and on everything holy that my intentions were as pure as a teardrop. Maybe I went a little overboard with the vows, but when you need a tech expert's help to spy on your future wife's Pinterest account, you have to be convincing.
"For the next six months," she reminds me, her voice low.
I don't contradict her. If there's one thing I've learned about this woman who drives me insane, it's that she loves to argue with me.
I was the one who set the timeframe, but only because she wouldn't have agreed to our arrangement without clear boundaries.
But once my ring is on her finger, she will be mine. And no matter how far she runs, I'll make sure I'm the shadow she can never escape.
Her gaze drifts to the terrace out back. I take her hand, lacing my fingers through hers, and lead her outside through the French doors to the garden, where she will officially become my wife.
"We'll need about thirty chairs for the ceremony. I have a photographer friend who can help us on such short notice. The food will be harder to organize. Do you know if the guests have any preferences? I suppose you can't please everyone—"
She keeps rambling, so I close the distance and circle her waist with my arms.
"Breathe. Everything will be perfect. I have no doubt."
I can tell she doesn't believe me, but I know how much these details matter to her.
After she jots down her ideas on her phone and schedules a few meetings with various vendors, she turns back to me with a smile.
Before I can say anything, Vasili steps out of the house, his expression a thundercloud. When his eyes land on Roxanne, he just dips his head in a sign of respect then looks at me.
"You can tell me what it is," I say.
His eyes flick back to the woman beside me, and I understand his hesitation.
"Whatever you have to say, you can say it in front of Roxanne."
They both stare at me in shock, and I genuinely don't understand what I said wrong. Even if she doesn't know it yet, she is going to be my wife forever.
"Very well," Vasili answers with a sigh. "Senator Ashville had an...incident."
My jaw tightens. By "incident," I know he means the man laid a hand on one of the girls who works for me.
When I granted him access to my club three months ago, I made it crystal clear that everything happening in that room had to be consensual. Many men like him forget that they are not superior to my employees. They are just clients,and unfortunately for them, clients who misbehave receive an educational lesson directly from me.
For a second, I consider sending Roxanne with Vasili, but there's no point in hiding this side of me. A cold sliver of fear pierces my chest at the thought of scaring her, of ruining all our progress. But in my world, violence is the only promise.
Better she knows from the beginning. If she can never love me, at least I want to know I was honest with her.
I grab her hand and pull her toward the car.
"Where are we going?" she asks, a hint of panic in her voice.
I turn and force a smile, leaning in to kiss her cheek. I can't help myself. Her skin feels cool under my touch, her eyes gleaming like there’s a constellation captured within them, and I love that I get to bring her with me. The moment my lips touch her, I know she’s holding her breath, and I have to swallow a sound of satisfaction.
