Oleg glances between us. “So what’s the actual plan here? You told them you have a bride. Do you?”
I don’t answer immediately. My mind is already racing ahead, calculating possibilities, mapping out scenarios.
Janice Woods nearly destroyed everything I built. She admitted it to my face with defiance that should have made me pull the trigger instead of just threatening it.
She’s brilliant, dangerous, and consumes my thoughts in ways that compromise my judgment.
She’s also completely unsuitable. Twenty-four years old, no connections, no protection, no understanding of the world she’d be entering. Marrying her would be insane.
It would also solve multiple problems simultaneously.
The Volkov rejection needs justification. Claiming a bride provides it.
Janice needs to understand that actions have consequences. That crossing me creates debts that must be paid.
I need her close. Need to break down whatever walls she’s constructed, need to reclaim what she took from me, need to stop being haunted by a woman I knew for three months four years ago.
Marriage accomplishes all of that.
“I’m working on it,” I say finally.
Felix’s expression suggests he knows exactly what I’m working on and thinks it’s a terrible idea. He’s probably right.
I don’t care.
We reach the car, and I slide into the back seat. Pull out my phone and scroll to the surveillance reports that arrive daily now.
Subject remained at office until 8 PM. No contact with ProPublica staff or journalists. Has been researching Rudenko companies.
She’s looking for leverage. Ways to protect herself, escape routes if things escalate.
I compose a message to my assistant.
Schedule meeting with Janice Woods. My office. Tomorrow, 10 AM. Mark it as an urgent client emergency. She won’t refuse.
The response is immediate.
Confirmed. Should I inform her supervisor?
No. Direct invitation only.
I pocket the phone and stare out at the city sliding past. Tomorrow, I’ll present Janice with a choice that isn’t really a choice at all.
She can marry me—become my wife, accept the protection and prison that comes with my name, pay for what she did in ways that don’t involve bullets.
Or she can refuse, and I’ll demonstrate exactly what happens to people who try to destroy me and think they can walk away unscathed.
Either way, this ends with her exactly where I want her.
Bound to me in ways that can’t be undone with exposés or distance or four years of trying to forget.
Felix’s voice interrupts my thoughts. “You’re going to marry her. Woods.”
“Her name is Janice.”
“That’s not a denial.”
“No. It’s not.”
