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“You’ve never liked me,” he finally said.

“I’ve never thought about you at all.”

His face twitched, a momentary crack in his composure. He was a man used to inspiring fear, respect, or at least hatred. Indifference was the one thing he couldn’t tolerate. I let the truth of that sit between us, watching as his shoulders stiffened. This man had spent decades commanding respect through fear and violence, and here I was, treating him like an afterthought.

“The ceremony will take place as scheduled,” I continued, my voice clipped. “I expect Harlowe to be present, sober, and compliant.”

Giovanni’s expression hardened. “She will be.”

“Good.” I stood, buttoning my suit jacket. “Then our business here is concluded.”

As I turned to leave, Giovanni spoke again. “She’s not like all your other women, Romanov. She won’t break easily.”

I paused at the door, allowing myself a small smile. “I’m counting on it.”

The sunlight outside felt abrasive after the club’s dim interior. My driver opened the car door, and I slid into the cool leather interior. As we pulled away from the curb, I checked my watch. I had a few hours before my next meeting, enough time to pay a visit to Harlowe.

It was time she understood exactly what she was getting into.

5

FIVE

ARROW

“Mr. Romanov,” Frank greeted me with a slight nod, his face impassive as ever. “Miss Virelli is upstairs.”

I stepped past him into the Virelli mansion, noting the faint scent of polish that clung to the walls. Everything in this place reeked of old money clinging to former glory. From the worn patches on the Persian rugs, carefully hidden under furniture, to the tarnish at the edges of the gilded frames holding the portraits of dead Virellis, and their cold, judgmental eyes.

“Has she eaten?” I asked, though I already knew the answer.

Frank’s hesitation told me everything. “She’s . . . resistant today.”

I smiled. Of course she was. Harlowe Virelli would rather starve than give me the satisfaction of her obedience. Her stubborn defiance was becoming predictable, which made it all the more amusing to dismantle.

“Where is she?” I asked, unbuttoning my suit jacket as I glanced up the grand staircase.

“Her room. Upstairs. Turn right. Door at the end of the hall. She’s been there since yesterday.”

I nodded and moved toward the stairs.

Frank’s hand shot out, grabbing my arm with a familiarity that would have cost most men their fingers.

“Sir,” he said quietly, “she’s in a dark place.”

I shrugged off his touch, straightening my cuffs. “Aren’t we all, Frank?”

His face remained stoic, but his eyes betrayed concern. “She hasn’t slept. She’s been drinking. Remember what we discussed.”

Pausing, I studied the old soldier.

Frank had watched Harlowe grow up, had probably wiped her tears, and taught her to throw a punch. His loyalty to her was touching, if misguided.

“I remember everything,” I said. “Now, step aside.”

I climbed the stairs, noting the security cameras tucked discreetly in the corners. Giovanni was paranoid, but not paranoid enough. My team had already mapped every blind spot in this house. I knew exactly where to stand if I wanted to disappear.

The third floor was quieter, the air heavier with disuse. I followed the hallway to her room, pausing outside the door. No sound came from within.