“Be reasonable. Konstantin’s men control the estate now. Dimitri’s security team is either dead or fleeing.”
And then, chillingly,“Dimitri is dead, Vera. Konstantin handled him personally. It’s over. Your husband is gone, and now you belong to me. The way you always should have.”
The radio transmission follows—the one about Dimitri being alive and en route. Alexei's curses. His order to breach the door.
"Change of plans, Vera. You're coming with me. Now."
And my voice, steady despite the fear I remember feeling."Like hell I am."
The recording ends.
The room is silent.
Even Konstantin’s oldest loyalists look shaken.
“That’s Alexei,” Boris says quietly, looking like all the air has left his body. “That’s his voice. I’d know it anywhere.”
“And he’s talking about taking Dimitri’s wife,” another Volkov adds. “He’s talking about?—”
“About betraying everything our family stands for,” Boris finishes. He looks old and tired. “Konstantin. All this time, it wasKonstantin.”
My father stands, and every Ashford in the room looks to him.
“If what Dimitri Volkov says is true,” he says carefully, “and the evidence suggests it is—then Konstantin Volkov is our enemy. Not the Volkovs as a whole. And Alexei…” He shakes his head. “Whatever that boy has become, he’s not the victim here.”
He looks directly at Dimitri and extends his hand across the table.
“You have my support. The Ashfords will stand with you against Konstantin and Alexei.”
Dimitri shakes his hand, and thus, the first actual Volkov-Ashford alliance is born.
Other voices chime in. They’re tentative at first but then grow stronger as both families slowly unite against the real threat.
By the time the meeting ends, the room has shifted. Not everyone is convinced (there will always be holdouts, loyalists who refuse to believe) but enough are on board to matter.
As people disperse to spread the word and prepare, my father lingers. Uncle Marcus stays with him, looking between us like he’s trying to figure out if he should leave or stay and see the potential show.
God, I’ve never liked him.
“Give us a minute,” my father says.
Marcus nods and steps away. Dimitri squeezes my hand once, then follows, clearly giving us space.
My father and I stand there awkwardly. While I’ve never doubted my father loved me, he always seemed vaguely disappointed that none of his three daughters were sons.
But right now, he looks tired and guilty.
“I’m sorry,” he says finally. “For all of it. For thinking the marriage would save us. For not protecting you. For—” He stops, struggling and I can see the emotion pooling in his eyes. “Forgiving you away like you were nothing more than a bargaining chip.”
“Dad.” I touch his arm. “You were trying to save everyone. I can understand that.”
“But you ended up married to…” He gestures vaguely at Dimitri across the room.
“I know.” I glance over at where Dimitri is coordinating with family members. “And honestly? I don’t regret it.Anyof it. Because it brought me to him.”
My father follows my gaze.
Dimitri is intense as always—sharp gray eyes focused, dark hair swept back, the sharp lines of his jaw and cheekbones giving him that aristocratic, dangerous look. Even with his shoulder bandaged beneath his suit jacket and the exhaustion around his eyes, he’s striking. Commanding, even. The kind of presence that makes people instinctively step back and listen when he speaks.
