Chapter 10
Dmitri
The ring was still warm on her finger from where I’d slid it on. Still new. Still shining with the promise I fully intended to keep. She would never be unprotected again.
Never hunted again. Never alone again.
My fiancée.
My future wife.
My goddamn universe wrapped in soft skin and stubborn fire.
And because of that—Maria had to die.
I waited until Natasha was in the shower, humming to herself, glowing with happiness, before I called Georgi and Cori to my office. When Natasha was near, I was gentle. When she wasn’t, I didn’t need to pretend.
“We’re doing an engagement dinner tomorrow night,” I said.
Cori smirked. “Public or private?”
“Both.” I leaned back in my chair, fingers steepled. “We’re releasing a public announcement with the location. A beautiful rooftop venue downtown. Expensive. Romantic. Every paparazzi and curious idiot will want a piece.”
“But the real dinner—?” Georgi asked, already grinning.
“A private estate outside the city. Off grid. Guarded.”
I tapped the table. “The public location is bait.”
Cori whistled low. “You’re fishing for Maria.”
“I’m finishing her.”
The announcement went out within the hour—an elegant, glowing invite posted by my PR team and leaked to the press “accidentally.” The world believed Natasha and I would be drinking champagne under string lights at 7 PM.
We were never going within ten miles of that place.
The day of the dinner, Natasha looked breathtaking. Nervous, but happy. Exactly how I needed her to be. Safe behind layers of protection, she didn’t see. As we drove toward the real venue, my phone buzzed once in my pocket—the signal we’d agreed on.
It was Georgi. I read her message and felt my blood go cold in the cleanest, sharpest way.
She’s here. Camping outside the decoy rooftop. Alone. Armed. Obsessed. Got her.
Perfect.
I texted back.
Secure her. Do not kill her yet. I want her breathing until after the wedding. Hide her some place she’ll never crawl out of.
Maria wasn’t getting a quick death. Not after what she’d done to Natasha. Not after trying to take her from me.
I slipped my phone away just as Natasha looked over at me, brows drawn. “Everything okay?”
I smiled for her. Soft. Real. “Perfect, princess.”
She reached for my hand, bringing her knuckles to my lips.
I didn’t tell her that a woman was obsessed with me—a woman who wanted her dead—was currently bagged, bound, and terrified in one of Georgi’s safe houses.
Natasha didn’t need to know. Not until after she was my wife. Probably not even then either.
The chandelier above the dining table cast golden light over the gathered family, illuminating faces I'd known my entire life and reflecting off the garland draped along the mantle.
My father sat at the head of the table, glass of vodka in hand, his expression unreadable as he surveyed the holiday spread before him.
Natasha sat beside me, her hand resting on my thigh beneath the table—a quiet anchor in the chaos of voices and laughter around us, the scent of pine and cinnamon hanging in the air.
Our engagement dinner had also doubled as a Christmas celebration.
I could feel the tension building. My father had been too quiet tonight, too observant. Something was coming. He stood, and the table fell silent immediately. That was his power—commanding attention without raising his voice.
"A toast," he announced, lifting his glass.
Everyone reached for their drinks. Natasha's fingers tightened on my leg.
"Tonight, we celebrate not just my son's engagement, but the future of this family." His eyes landed on me, sharp and assessing. "Dmitri has proven himself time and again. His loyalty. His strength. His ability to make the hard decisions that keep us safe and prosperous."
I kept my expression neutral, but my pulse quickened.
"Therefore," my father continued, "it is time for me to step aside. Dmitri will assume leadership of the Volkov family, effective immediately."
The words hung in the air like a detonation. Shock rippled through me, but I didn't let it show. Around the table, reactions varied—some nodding in approval, others exchanging glances, my uncle's jaw tightening with barely concealed anger. He was a supporter of Cori.
"To Dmitri," my father said, raising his glass higher. "The new head of the Volkov family. May he lead us with the same strength and vision that has kept us powerful for generations."
"To Dmitri!" The chorus echoed around the table.
I stood, lifting my own glass, accepting the mantle even as my mind raced. This changed everything. The weight of it settled on my shoulders—heavier than I'd expected, more final. I glanced at Natasha. Her face had gone stoic, her smile frozen in place.
Fuck.
The dinner continued, but I barely tasted the food.
Conversations swirled around us—congratulations, questions about my plans, thinly veiled challenges from those who thought themselves more deserving.
I handled each one with practiced ease, but my attention kept drifting to Natasha. She'd gone quiet. Too quiet.
Finally, she leaned toward me, her voice barely audible. "I need some air."
"I'll come with you."
"No, I just—I need a moment." She stood, smoothing her dress. "Excuse me."
She walked away before I could protest, heading toward the terrace. I gave her thirty seconds—enough time to breathe, but not enough for the panic I'd seen in her eyes to take root.
Then I followed.
I found her on the far end of the terrace, gripping the stone railing like it was the only thing keeping her upright. The city lights spread out below us, but she wasn't looking at them. Her shoulders were tense, her breathing uneven.
"Princess," I said softly, approaching slowly.
She didn't turn. "That's quite an announcement."
"Yeah."
"Head of the family." Her voice was tight, controlled. "That's a lot of responsibility. I guess you know about Cori, huh?"
"It is and we do."
She finally looked at me, and the vulnerability in her eyes nearly broke me. "Is that why you wanted to marry me?"
The question hit like a blade between the ribs.
"What?" I stepped closer, but she held up a hand.
"Your father just made you head of the family at our engagement dinner, Dmitri. That's not a coincidence." Her voice cracked slightly. "Did you need a wife to secure your position? Is that what this is?"
Rage and pain twisted in my chest—not at her, but at the doubt I'd somehow planted there. I closed the distance between us in two strides, gripping her face in my hands, forcing her to look at me.
"No," I said fiercely. "Absolutely fucking not."
"But the timing—"
"I didn't know." I pressed my forehead to hers, my thumbs stroking her cheeks. "I swear to you, Natasha, I had no idea he was going to do that tonight. I wanted to marry you long before any of this."
"How can I know that?"
"Because I asked you before he even hinted at me taking his place. Because I've been obsessed with you since the moment I saw you. Because—" I pulled back just enough to meet her eyes. "Because I would give up every bit of power, every piece of this empire, if it meant keeping you."
Her breath hitched.
"You think I need you to be head of the family?" I shook my head. "Princess, I need you to breathe. I need you to exist. The rest of it—the power, the position—it's nothing compared to you."
"Dmitri..."
"I wanted to marry you because I can't imagine a life where you're not mine. Because seven years, princess. Because when I'm with you, the darkness in me quiets down long enough for me to feel something other than rage and ambition."
Tears welled in her eyes.
"My father gave me power tonight," I continued, my voice dropping lower, more intimate. "But you? You already owned me, Natasha. Completely. You've owned me from the beginning."
"So it’s not for appearances? To look stable or legitimate or—"
"Stop." I kissed her, slow and deep, pouring everything I felt into it. When I pulled back, she was breathless. "You are not a political move. You are not a convenience. You are the woman I love. The woman I choose. The only woman I will always choose."
She searched my face, looking for lies, for cracks in the truth. But there was nothing to find. Every word was honest, raw, stripped of any pretense.
"I love you," I said again. "That's the only reason I asked you to marry me. The only reason that matters."
A tear slipped down her cheek, and I wiped it away with my thumb.
"Okay," she breathed.
"Okay?"
"I believe you." She wrapped her arms around my neck, holding tight. "Tonight caught me off guard."
"It caught me off guard too." I held her close, breathing in her scent. "But nothing changes between us. Not really. You're still mine, and I'm still yours."
"Promise?"
"I promise, princess." I tilted her chin up. "Though I have to admit, being head of the family does mean I can protect you better. No one will dare touch you now."
A small smile curved her lips. "Always thinking strategically."
"When it comes to you? Always." I kissed her forehead, then her nose, then her mouth. "Now, can we go back inside so I can show everyone that my future wife is the most important thing in my life? More important than any title or position?"
She laughed softly, the tension finally leaving her body. "Yes."
I took her hand, lacing our fingers together, and led her back toward the dining room. But before we entered, I stopped, pulling her close one more time.
"Natasha?"
"Yeah?"
"Thank you for asking. For being honest about your concerns." I cupped her face again. "Never doubt that you're the reason for everything good in my life. Everything."
She kissed me then—soft and sweet and full of trust.
“Are you ready to do the gift exchange?” she asked me.
We’d opted to do the one between her and I during our honeymoon.
But we’d made sure that the family was ready and prepared to do the group exchange tonight.
Something inside her lit up like a Christmas tree, sure and ready.
Christmas truly was her favorite holiday and I loved that this year it would be even more special for her.
As we walked back into that room full of power players and calculated alliances, I knew with absolute certainty that I'd just been handed an empire. But I'd already found my kingdom in her.