“Divorce Baranov. Marry Harris so he can claim his inheritance. Once he secures it, he signs the agreement to join the unification of the five mafia families. He’s the only one left to sign — and you’ve been the one delaying it.”
His gaze hardened.
“I also need his support in tomorrow’s vote for my mayoral position. And the Thompson backing — which I can’t obtain unless Harris marries you today.”
My throat tightened.
I stepped back instinctively, my fingers tightening around my phone as if it were the only thing keeping me grounded.
The banging on the door continued — louder now, more urgent.
My footsteps echoed across the foyer as I paced.
Fast.
Erratic.
My breathing grew shallow, uneven, each inhale catching painfully in my chest while the sound of fists pounding against the door swallowed whatever calm I had left.
My phone felt like it was burning into my palm.
No calls.
No texts.
No response.
Ruslan.
Where are you?
The silence from him terrified me more than the men outside.
If something had happened mid-flight — sabotage, interference, forced landing — then this wasn’t just an attack on my home.
It was coordinated.
Strategic.
Designed to isolate me.
The doors shook violently again.
Boom.
Boom.
Boom.
Harris shouted through the reinforced barrier.
“Elena! Stop making this harder than it needs to be!”
His voice echoed inside the house like poison.
I turned toward the sound.
“Harder?” I screamed back. “You’re attacking my home!”
