A virgin. Completely untouched.
My body responded immediately—heat flooding south, possessiveness tightening my chest. She was mine in ways she didn't understand yet. No other man had touched her, tasted her, been inside her.
Only me.
I forced my voice level. "Then we have a problem."
"What problem?"
"A virgin bride after a week of marriage raises questions. Medical examinations will reveal you haven't been touched."
Fear bloomed fresh in her eyes.
"So we need to consummate this marriage," I continued. "But on one condition."
She looked wary. "What condition?"
I leaned against the bar. "You choose when. Not tonight, if you're not ready. But soon. Within the week."
"You're giving me a choice?"
"I'm giving you the illusion of control," I corrected, unwilling to admit that I was giving up even a sliver of my own. "Because ultimately, this has to happen. For both our safety. But I'd rather you come to me willingly."
It was more honesty than I usually offered anyone.
"And if I refuse entirely?"
My voice hardened. "Then I make the choice for you. And you won't like how that goes."
The threat hung between us. She knew I meant it.
"So choose, Paola. Make this easy. Or make it hard." I gestured toward the hallway. "The bedroom is through there. You'll find clothes in the closet—my assistant had them sent over."
"Whose clothes?"
"Yours now. I had your measurements taken from the wedding dress."
She wasn't used to this world yet, where information was currency and preparation was survival.
"You'll sleep in my bed," I continued. "My enemies are watching. The staff will talk. We need to maintain appearances."
"Sleep in your bed. But you said you wouldn't—"
"I said I wouldn't force you tonight. That doesn't mean we sleep separately."
I could see her mind working, calculating angles.
"Go. Change. Get comfortable. I have calls to make."
She didn't move immediately. "Can I ask you something?"
I raised an eyebrow. "You can ask. I may not answer."
"Why did you go through with it? When you realized I wasn't Bianca, why didn't you stop it?"
Honest question. Deserved an honest answer.
"Viktor Kozlov was watching. If I'd exposed the deception, I would have looked weak. Foolish. Not in control." I moved closer. "In my world, the appearance of weakness is death. Viktor would have moved against me within days. Blood would have been spilled. My men. Innocents."
