I considered that.
“I’ve fucked a few hundred. It’s hard to keep track.”
I reached into my breast pocket and produced the ring. She watched it the way prey watches something it hasn’t yet identified as a threat but knows enough to be wary of.
“Why don’t you find someone more suited to you?” she said.
“I don’t need a wife. I need your womb. Any womb would do, but my father has old-fashioned ideas about legitimacy. So here we are.” I took her hand. It was small. Delicate in the way of things that break without meaning to. I pushed the ring onto her finger and felt her resist—barely, briefly—then stop.
She understood.
“My advisor will leave you with a prenuptial contract. You have twenty-four hours to return it to me signed.”
I released her hand.
I didn’t add a threat. I never needed to. My instructions were law, and the people in this city understood that down to the bone.
“Understood?”
She didn’t look up from the ring.
“Da.”
One word. But it held everything — anger, resignation, and underneath both of those, something she hadn’t managed to extinguish yet. Something that would either break her quickly or make her interesting.
I hadn’t decided yet which outcome I preferred.
How long before I broke her? There was no future in my world for women who held onto themselves too tightly. Something always gave in the end.
“All you need to do is spread your legs and give me my heir,” I said.“We all have a part to play.”
I turned and walked out.
She followed a few moments later, composed enough that only someone looking for the cracks would have found them.
Vera noticed the ring first. She pulled her daughter into her arms with a sound that was half sob and half relief, which told you everything about what kind of mother she was — a woman who had confused safety with captivity for so long she could no longer tell them apart.
Leonid crossed the room and shook my father’s hand. The two old men, satisfied. The deal closed.
I brushed off the well-wishing without breaking stride.
“Hand her the paperwork and let’s go,” I said, straightening my jacket.
My father could stay if he wanted, but I did what I came for.
??????
I stared at the document.
Her signature was a scrawl, but I’d checked it against her old student card and her bank documentation.
It was on time and ready to be delivered to my lawyer.
She had agreed to every single clause.
I was protected. As was my progeny.
PRENUPTIAL AGREEMENT
