The Mercedes glides through the compound gates, and my stomach drops straight to my heels.
Oh, for God's sake.
Pietro and Nico stand at the main entrance like a welcoming committee from hell. Arms crossed. Jaws tight. Behind them, at least eight guards fan out across the steps, hands resting on weapons that catch the moonlight.
"Looks like we have a reception," Dmitri says, his voice flat as the car rolls to a stop.
"They're going to shoot you." I unbuckle my seatbelt with shaking fingers. "They're actually going to shoot you on our front steps."
"They won't."
The driver opens Dmitri's door first. He steps out with the kind of deliberate calm that makes my pulse spike. Not rushed. Not worried. Like he's walking into a business meeting instead of a potential execution.
I scramble out my side before anyone can open it for me, nearly tripping on my heels in my haste to get between Dmitri and my brothers.
Too late.
Dmitri moves toward them, each step measured and unhurried. The guards shift. Hands tighten on weapons. Someone's safety clicks off.
"What the hell is going on?" I demand, my voice sharper than I intend.
Pietro ignores me completely. His eyes lock onto Dmitri with the kind of focused intensity that usually precedes bloodshed. "What does this mean, Baganov? You take my sister from a restaurant, announce yourself as her fiancé in front of witnesses, and now you show up at my compound?"
Dmitri stops three feet from my brother. Close enough to be dangerous. Close enough that any of those guards could put a bullet in him before he blinked.
"It means exactly what I said." Dmitri's pale eyes don't waver. "Vittoria and I are going to get married."
The silence that follows is thick enough to choke on.
Pietro's head snaps toward me. His expression—Dio, his expression. Confusion wars with fury across his features, his jaw working like he's physically restraining himself from violence.
"You didn't tell me this." The words come out low, controlled, but I hear the accusation underneath. "We had an agreement. Three months. You said nothing about accepting his proposal."
My throat tightens. Because he's right. I didn't say anything.
Because I didn'tknow.
Dmitri announced our engagement without asking me. Without warning. Without giving me a single second to process before he claimed me in front of James Rogers and half of Lorenzo's restaurant staff.
But standing here now, with my brothers' guards ready to turn Dmitri into Swiss cheese, with Nico's hand inching toward his weapon, with Pietro looking at me like I've betrayed everything our family stands for?—
I make my choice.
"That's right." My voice comes out steadier than I feel. "We're getting married."
Pietro's nostrils flare. For a long moment, nobody moves.
Then Pietro exhales through his teeth.
"Stand down," he orders, not taking his eyes off Dmitri. "All of you. Inside. Now."
They move. Reluctantly. Weapons lowering, bodies filing through the main entrance until only the four of us remain on the steps—me, Dmitri, Pietro, and Nico.
"Follow me." Pietro turns on his heel. "Both of you."
I watch Dmitri's face. He's not used to following orders. Every line of his body screams resistance, screamsI give commands, I don't take them.
But he moves.
