He locks his phone and slides it into his jacket. Then, he reaches out, his large hand covering my knee. His grip is firm.
"Prepare yourself," he says. "You’ll need your strength. Because tomorrow night, the Bratva Council arrives."
My breath catches. "The Council? The Elders?"
"Yes. They’re coming to inspect the operation and my new wife."
He squeezes my knee. A warning.
"They believe you’re a liability. The daughter of a traitor. Tomorrow night, at dinner, you have to prove them wrong. You’re going to show them that you belong to me, not to Arthur."
"And if I fail?"
"Then Sokolov doesn't just cancel the shipment," Konstantin says coldly. "He calls for a vote. He blocks my ascension."
His blue eyes assess me without an ounce of kindness.
"I’m the Enforcer, Helena. But the Pakhan’s seat is empty, and the old guard is hungry. If I don't deliver these weapons, I look weak. And a man who cannot hold his territory cannot wear the crown."
I stare out the window as the car turns into the private garage.
Tomorrow the ship leaves. The Council arrives. The war begins.
I’ll be standing in the center of it all, wearing his ring.
The elevator ride to the penthouse is essentially a trip to the gallows.
When the doors slide open, Lev is there, holding the bag the police returned to me.
"Put them in the master suite," Konstantin commands, stepping out. He walks straight to the bar, unbuttoning his cuffs. He looks like a man who wants to tear something apart but is settling for a drink instead.
I freeze. "The master suite? My things are in the guest room."
Konstantin pours a drink.
"You’re not a guest anymore, Helena," he says, taking a sip, eyes tracking me over the rim of the glass. "Guests leave. Wives stay."
He gestures to Lev. "Move them."
"Yes, Sir." Lev disappears down the hallway.
I watch him go, panic rising.
The guest room had a lock. It was flimsy, but it was a boundary. Now, apparently, there are no boundaries. I’m exposed to the wolves. To my husband.
"I need to call him," I say, the words rushing out before I lose my nerve.
Konstantin pauses and sets the glass down slowly. "Your father."
"Yes. He... he needs to know I'm safe."
He laughs. "He knows you’re safe. If you were dead, it would be on the news."
"Please," I whisper. "He thinks I'm in danger."
He looks at me, his gaze heavy, stripping away my defenses. Conflict rages in his eyes, possibly between the ruthless King who wants to isolate me, versus the man who just put his ring on my finger.
"Fine,” he says finally. “Consider it a wedding gift."
