She stiffens but doesn’t turn around.
“The date is set,” I say quietly.
Her shoulders tense further. She doesn’t answer.
“Three days. Saturday evening. It will be a small ceremony, with limited witnesses. Orthodox tradition modified for practicality.”
Still nothing. Just rigid silence.
“Your father has agreed. Signed the contracts. He sends his blessing.”
That breaks her silence. “Of course he did.” Her voice is hollow. “Why wouldn’t he? He gets to keep his businesses and all it costs is his unwanted daughter.”
“Elena—”
“Don’t.” She turns now, eyes bright with unshed tears she refuses to let fall. “Don’t pretend you don’t know what this is. What I’ve always been to him. To all of them.”
“I know.”
“Do you?” She laughs, bitter. “I’ve spent my whole life trying to prove I matter. Trying to earn a place in a family that never wanted me in the first place. The bastard daughter. The mistake. The one who has to work twice as hard for half the recognition.”
Her voice cracks, but she keeps going.
“Now I’m finally useful. Not because I’m smart or capable or worth anything on my own merits. Marrying me off solves your problems and his problems and everyone gets what they want except me.”
The pain in her voice makes something uncomfortable twist in my chest.
“You matter,” I say.
“To who? Not to you, anyway. You don’t care about me; you just want to keep me.”
“Is there a difference?”
“Yes!” The word comes out fierce. “There’s a fucking difference between being valued and being claimed like property!”
I move closer, closing the distance until I’m right behind her. Until the heat between us is palpable.
“You’re right,” I say quietly. “There is a difference, but in our world, being claimed offers better protection than being valued ever could.”
“That’s—”
“True. You know it.” My hand settles at her waist, firm and anchoring. “Your family valued you just enough to use you when convenient. I’m claiming you completely. Which do you think keeps you safer?”
She doesn’t pull away. Doesn’t move. Just stands there trembling slightly under my touch.
“I don’t want to be kept,” she whispers. “Safe or not. I want to be free.”
“Freedom is an illusion. Power is real. Protection is real. I’m offering both.”
“At what cost?”
“Everything. And nothing.” I lean closer, mouth brushing her ear. “You give me loyalty, obedience, your body, and your future. In exchange, I give you safety, purpose, and a life that matters beyond desperate attempts to prove yourself worthy.”
Her breath stutters. “That’s not—that’s not fair.”
“It’s the only offer you’re getting.”
My hand presses slightly firmer at her waist, feeling her body respond despite her mind’s resistance. The tension, the heat, the way she leans back almost imperceptibly into my presence.
