“Why, to spend the rest of your life looking over your shoulder? Running every time someone gets too close? That’s not life.”
“Better than being married to you!”
The venom in her voice should sting. It doesn’t. I expected resistance, expected fury. Expected everything except easy acceptance.
“You have until tomorrow morning to decide,” I say calmly. “Marry me, accept the protection that comes with my name, and live. Or refuse, and I’ll put you on a plane to somewhere far away where the Volkovs might not find you.Might.”
“That’s not a choice.”
“No. It’s not, but it’s the only option I’m offering.”
Janice sets the coffee down with shaking hands. “You’re doing this for revenge, because of what I did. You want to trap me, control me, make me pay for the exposé.”
“Yes.”
The admission stops her mid-sentence.
“I want you to pay for what you did,” I continue. “I want you trapped under my roof, under my control, unable to run or hide or pretend you didn’t nearly destroy me. I want revenge for four years of searching, four years of being haunted, four years of wanting something I convinced myself I couldn’t have.” I step closer, close enough to see her pupils dilate. “But more than revenge, I want you safe. That means marriage. Whether you like it or not.”
“I hate you.”
“I know.”
“This is kidnapping. Coercion.”
“It’s protection.”
“It’s a cage!”
“A cage that keeps you alive.” My voice hardens. “You think I want this? You think I want to bind myself to a woman who tried to destroy me? Who published my secrets for the world to see? Who reminds me every time I look at her that I’m capable of weakness?”
“Then let me go!”
“I can’t.” The words tear out of me, raw and honest. “I tried that once. It didn’t work. You came back, and now you’re in danger because I was too selfish to stay away. So yes, this is a cage. It’s the only way I know to keep you breathing.”
Silence descends, heavy and charged. Janice’s breath comes quick and shallow, her eyes bright with unshed tears.
“I need time,” she says finally. “To think. To process.”
“You have until morning.”
“That’s not enough!”
“It’s all I’m offering.”
She stares at me for a long moment, then turns and walks toward the guest suite. Stops in the doorway without looking back.
“You’re a monster.”
“I know.”
“You don’t even care.”
“I care about keeping you alive. Everything else is secondary.”
She disappears into the bedroom, and I hear the lock click. Pointless—I have keys to every door in this penthouse—but I let her have the illusion of control.
Tomorrow morning she’ll give me her answer.
