The word landed like a grenade.
I heard a laugh that sounded like a snort—it was either Alexei or Konstantin.
“It’s containment. It’s the one solution that works for public optics, Bratva hierarchy, and even legal leverage,” I explained.
And my desperate, inexplicable need to keep her alive.
"Marriage also binds her to our family permanently," Roman remarked. "That's a hell of a commitment to someone who was our enemy three days ago."
"Was,” I emphasized. “She's not our enemy now. She's our asset. Marriage makes that official."
I could see Viktor calculating, weighing options with the same strategic mind that had kept the Lobanovs dominant for generations.
As if I were on trial, I went on. "It also provides legal cover. A wife can't be compelled to testify against her husband.Her lawsuit protections extend to Lobanov interests. Every piece of leverage she has becomes ours."
The silence that followed felt infinite.
Finally, Viktor leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable. "You're willing to marry a woman you've known for less than a week? To bind yourself to someone who could still betray us?"
"I'm willing to do whatever it takes to protect this family's future. Even if that means marrying our greatest threat to neutralize her."
"That's not neutralization," Konstantin observed with something that might have been amusement. "That's claiming."
"A Lobanov marriage is a political event. It signals unity. Strength. Control over a situation that appeared chaotic. It's better optics than a body in the river,” I disclosed.
Roman cleared his throat. "There's also precedent. Viktor married Emilia under less-than-traditional circumstances. Mikhail and Isabella's union was politically motivated. Same as my marriage to my baby girl. Konstantin and Alina's wedding happened during active warfare. Alexei and Mila—"
"We get it," Alexei interrupted, chuckling in a way that told me Konstantin was right when he said the mere mention of Alina’s name turned Alexei into a young boy again. "The Lobanovs have a history of complicated marriages."
"Complicated marriages that strengthened the family," I pressed. "This does the same."
“Besides, I wasn’t saying it as a bad thing. My angle is that this could work, too. I mean, it worked forallof us,” Roman clarified.
Viktor was quiet for a long moment, his fingers steepled beneath his chin. When he finally spoke, his voice carried the weight of final judgment. "If this goes sideways—if shebetrays us, runs, or causes problems—you eliminate the threat personally. No hesitation. No second chances. Understood?"
"Understood, brother,” I affirmed, nodding.
"And Damian?" Viktor's expression softened fractionally—the closest thing to concern I'd seen from him in years. "Make sure you know what you're doing. Marriage isn't a contract you can terminate when it becomes inconvenient."
"I know exactly what I'm doing." The lie came easily because I needed it to be true.
The meeting adjourned with grim efficiency. Plans were made. Security protocols established. Invitations would go out within hours to all Lobanov couples—a family summit disguised as a wedding that would demonstrate unity while we rooted out betrayal.
*****
“How did it go, boss?” Yuri inquired the minute I got into the car.
“Well,” I answered, trying to sound casual. “Marrying her is the perfect containment strategy.”
“But the Lobanov brothers are all married,” he remarked, chuckling as he drove onto the dark streets. “Except you.”
Then his head whipped to my side as he realized what he’d just pointed out.
“Boss, you’re marrying her?” he asked, shock clearly written over his features.
“Eyes on the road, Yuri,” I instructed. “I’m marrying her, yes.”
“You always said you’d never get married,” he uttered.
