Relief loosens something tight in my chest.
“I’ll send paperwork.”
“Her name is Talia Petrov.”
The silence on the other end turns absolute.
“…Petrov,” he repeats slowly.
“Yes.”
“Is she related in any way to Viktor Petrov, by any chance?”
“She’s his daughter.”
Daniel exhales sharply through his teeth. “Jesus, Jake. You didn’t just step in it—you dove headfirst into it. Does Viktor know?”
"Of course not. And he can't. Not ever. We just need to make it disappear."
"Okay," Daniel says, his lawyer-brain finally clicking into gear.
"Okay. I can handle this. I’ll draft the documents for an annulment based on lack of capacity due to intoxication. It’s Nevada, it’s relatively straightforward if both parties are willing. I’ll send a courier to her with the papers by the end of the week."
"Good. Do it."
"Jake," Daniel adds, his voice softening. "Be careful. Viktor... well, you know Viktor."
"I know," I say. "Just get it done."
I hang up and toss the phone onto the counter.
I’m exhausted. Physically, mentally, soul-deep exhausted.
I head upstairs to my bedroom, stripping off my clothes and falling onto the bed without even pulling back the covers.
As I drift off, my mind betrays me.
I don’t think about the legal fees or the coach’s wrath.
I think about Talia.
I think about the way her blonde hair spilled across her shoulders.
And for the next few days, at least... she’s my wife.
The last thought I have before sleep takes me is a memory of her laughter in that elevator—bright, reckless, and completely intoxicating.
God, I’m in so much trouble.
8
TALIA
Missed Deadline
The knock on the front door comes right as I’m adding what I swear was going to be the perfect highlight.
“Shoot!” I jerk back too fast, dragging my brush across the canvas in a streak that absolutely was not part of the vision.
