"The usual. Questions about where she came from. Whether it's legitimate. Some people think she might be a plant from a rival organization." He looks at Florrie. "No offense."
"None taken," she says faintly.
"We need to make this look real," Vitali adds. "Not just legally, but publicly. You'll need to be seen together. At family events, at the club. The more normal this appears, the better."
"It is normal," I say flatly.
"You know what I mean." Vitali's expression is hard. "You claimed her in front of Valentin. That story will spread. We need to control the narrative. Make it clear that she's your wife, that this isn't some temporary arrangement, that anyone who questions it answers to the entire family."
Yury nods. "Vitali is right. The family must present a unified front. Florrie is one of us now. Anyone who suggests otherwise is an enemy."
The weight of those words settles over the table. This isn't just about me and Florrie anymore. It's about family honor. About the Dubovich name.
Florrie swallows hard. "I understand."
"Do you?" Yury's eyes pin her in place. "Do you understand what it means to be a Dubovich wife? The scrutiny, the danger, the expectations?"
"I'm learning," she says steadily. "But yes. I understand that I'm part of this now. For better or worse."
Something like approval flashes across Yury's face. "Good. Then we will make sure everyone else understands it too."
The conversation shifts after that, becoming lighter. Sophia draws Florrie into talk about the house, about settling in. Charlotte offers to show her around the estate tomorrow. Even Avros thaws slightly, asking her questions about her work.
By the time dinner ends, some of the tension has eased.
As we're leaving, Vitali catches my arm.
"She's stronger than she looks. But she's going to need to be. This life..." He shakes his head. "It's not easy for the women."
"I know."
"Do you?" His eyes meet mine. "Because there's no going back. She's yours now. Forever. Can you handle that?"
I look at Florrie. At the way she's laughing at something Sophia said. The tension has finally left her shoulders, even though she glances back at me like she's making sure I'm still there.
"Yes," I say. "I can handle it."
Because the alternative, a world where she's not mine, has become unthinkable.
Florrie
The walk back to Leon's house is quiet, but it's not uncomfortable.
My mind is still spinning from dinner, from meeting everyone, from the weight of Yury's words settling over me like a blanket I can't quite shake off.
Anyone who suggests otherwise is an enemy.
That's what he said about me being part of the family now.
Leon's hand finds mine and he threads our fingers together. The gesture is simple, grounding, and I squeeze back without thinking about it.
"You did well tonight," he says quietly.
"Did I?" I let out a shaky laugh. "I felt like I was walking through a minefield."
"You were." His thumb strokes across my knuckles. "But you didn't step on anything explosive. That's what matters."
I think about Sophia's warm welcome, Charlotte's sympathetic smile, Avros's cautious questions. Even Yury, intimidating as he was, seemed to accept me by the end of the night. Or at least accept that Leon had made his choice and they were going to support it.
