One step. Two.
We cross the threshold into the foyer.
Pietro leads us toward his study without looking back. Nico falls into step behind us, and I feel his stare burning into the back of my head.
Great. Just great.
I came home from a disaster dinner to announce a surprise engagement.
We enter the office and Pietro heads to his desk. He doesn't sit in the chair. Instead, he leans against the front of his desk, arms crossed, ankles crossed. Casual if you don't know him. Lethal if you do.
Nico closes the door behind us. He stays there, back against the wood, blocking the only exit. His hand rests on his hip. Close to his weapon. Ready.
I stand three feet from Dmitri. Close enough to feel the heat radiating off his body. Far enough that my brothers can see space between us.
As if that matters now.
Pietro's dark eyes move from me to Dmitri. Back to me. Then settle on Dmitri with the kind of focused stillness that precedes violence.
"You know better than anyone," Pietro says, his voice low and controlled, "that these things don't work this way."
The words hang in the air.
Dmitri doesn't flinch.
"You wanted a marriage for Vittoria." His pale eyes meet Pietro's without hesitation. "You have one."
Pietro's jaw tightens. "That's not?—"
"I respected you and your family enough to bring her back here tonight." Dmitri's voice cuts through my brother's objection. Smooth. Final. "We are going to get married."
The silence that follows is suffocating.
I should speak. I should say something. Defend myself, explain, protest—something.
But my mouth stays shut.
Because here's the thing that's crawling under my skin, making my palms sweat and my heart race: Dmitri isn't wrong.
They wanted a marriage.
Dmitri is giving them one.
Onhisterms.
And standing here, watching my brother's fury simmer behind that controlled mask, I realize something that should terrify me.
I agree with him.
Pietro pushes off the desk. One step toward Dmitri. Then another. They're nearly the same height, my brother and this Russian monster I've agreed to marry.
"You think you can just take her?" Pietro's voice drops to something dangerous. "Announce it in public without discussing it with me first? Without asking for my blessing?"
"I'm not asking for your blessing." Dmitri's head tilts slightly. "I'm informing you of what's happening."
Nico shifts by the door. I hear the creak of leather as his hand tightens on his weapon.
"Vittoria." Pietro doesn't look at me. His eyes stay locked on Dmitri. "Is this what you want?"
