"That's fast."
"It needs to be. Once we're married, the news spreads quickly. Cormac will know within hours that you're off the table. The Petrovics will know shortly after. The faster we move, the less time they have to interfere."
She nodded slowly, processing. "And the ceremony itself? What does that look like?"
"Simple. Private. A judge I trust, a few witnesses from my security team. Nothing public, nothing elaborate."
"No family?"
"Not for the ceremony. You'll meet them eventually—Demyan, Kirill, Nina. But that can wait until things are more settled."
"Do they know? About me?"
"I told Demyan and Kirill this morning."
"And?"
"They have concerns. Questions about whether you can be trusted."
"Can you blame them?"
"No. But I told them the decision was mine. And that I was certain."
She studied me for a long moment, her whiskey-colored eyes searching my face. "Are you? Certain?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
It was the same question she'd asked last night. I still didn't have a good answer—at least, not one that made sense in any logical way.
"Because I've spent my whole life surrounded by people who lie," I said. "People who perform, who scheme, who calculate every word and gesture. I'm one of them. I know what deception looks like from the inside." I held her gaze. "And when I look at you, I don't see that. I see someone who's tired of running. Someone who built a whole life just to escape the one she was born into. Someone who—" I stopped, shook my head. "Someone real."
She didn't respond. Just watched me with that unreadable expression, the one that had driven me half-mad during our sessions.
"What happens after?" she asked. "Once we're married. What does day-to-day life look like?"
"You'd live here. With me. Separate bedrooms if you want—there's plenty of space."
"And my practice?"
"We can discuss that. Going back to your office isn't safe—they know where it is now. But if you want to continue working, we can find a way. Set up something here, or at a location with better security."
"You'd let me keep working?"
"I told you last night—this isn't about controlling you. It's about protecting you."
"Those two things aren't always different."
"They are to me."
She uncurled her legs, leaning forward slightly. The movement made the robe shift, revealing a glimpse of collarbone, and I forced myself to keep my eyes on her face.
"What about us?" she asked.
"What about us?"
"You know what I'm asking. This marriage—is it purely strategic? Or are you expecting..."
