Chapter 3 #2
“Lived. Past tense.” I push past him, grab my bag from the table, anything to put space between us. “Lucas hasn’t been here in over a week. I have no idea where he is.”
“Convenient.”
“It’s the truth,” I snap, spinning to face him. “Whatever this is, it has nothing to do with me. You’ve said what you needed to say, so you can leave now.”
He stands perfectly still, eyes fixed on me like he’s watching something unravel.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he says quietly.
My heart stutters. “What the hell does that mean?”
“It means your brother’s debts are now your problem.”
I laugh—too sharp, too loud. “My problem? He’s a grown man.”
Artyom’s eyes stay on me, unblinking. “He was working for me.”
I freeze. “What?”
“He moved product for us. My drugs. That was his deal. Clean, simple. Until he decided to get creative.”
The words don’t register at first. My mind refuses to fit them into any version of reality I know.
“You’re lying,” I whisper.
His expression doesn’t flicker. “He started selling more than he was reporting. Keeping the extra money. Now he’s vanished.”
I shake my head. “No. Lucas—he’s not—he wouldn’t—”
“Wouldn’t steal?” His voice stays calm, almost gentle. “Wouldn’t betray someone to save his own life? I think you know him better than that, Kira.”
The sound of my name in his mouth makes me flinch again. He steps closer. I can feel his heat even through the space between us.
“He’s been missing for a week,” Artyom continues.
“And when one of my people disappears with cash and stock, I make sure he doesn’t stay hidden for long.
But since I can’t find him…” His gaze drifts over the room, slow and deliberate, before settling back on me.
“…I’ll settle for the one person I know he loves enough to risk contact for. ”
It takes a second for the words to make sense. Then they hit all at once.
“You’re insane,” I say, voice shaking. “You can’t—”
“I can,” he interrupts. “And I will. You think this is a negotiation? It isn’t.”
Anger flares through the fear, wild and desperate. “I don’t have anything to do with this!”
He nods once, almost thoughtful. “Maybe not. But that doesn’t change what’s owed.”
“Then go find him!”
“I will.” His tone is cool, final. “But until I do, the debt stays open. And open debts attract attention I don’t need.”
My voice rises. “What do you want from me?”
He studies me for a moment, the faintest hint of something like amusement crossing his features. “A solution.”
“Stop speaking in riddles! A solution to what?”
He leans against the edge of the table, unhurried. “I have to meet some… partners in Italy. Old alliances, delicate negotiations. They like things traditional. Stability. Family.”
“And?”
“I need a fiancée.”
I stare at him. “You’re out of your freaking mind.”
He shrugs, unbothered. “You’d be surprised how persuasive a little domestic illusion can be.”
I cannot pretend to be his fiancée… can I? “And if I say no?”
“Then I find your brother, and when I do, I put a bullet in his head.”
The words land cold and solid in my stomach. For a moment, I can’t breathe. “You can’t just—”
“Oh, I can,” he says softly. “You have no idea who you’re dealing with.”
The way he says it makes my blood run cold.
He steps forward again. His voice drops, lower, quieter. “Say yes, and I make sure he lives. Say no, and I’ll make sure you never have to wonder what happened to him,” he smiles cruelly which changes his whole face. “I might even invite you to watch.”
For a long second, I can’t speak. I can only hear my heartbeat, heavy and uneven. Is he… Is he inviting me to watch my brother get murdered?
“This is insane,” I whisper.
He tilts his head slightly, eyes narrowing. “You’d rather bury your brother than pretend to love me for a few weeks?”
“Pretend?”
“I don’t expect affection, Kira. I’m not an idiot. Just obedience and some good acting.”
I watch him, frozen, torn between disbelief and a sick kind of panic. I don’t know what I’m doing until the words leave my mouth. “If you find him—if you touch him—I swear to God—”
He turns his head slightly, eyes glinting. “You’ll what? Call the police?”
“Yes!”
He laughs softly, and it’s the most terrifying sound I’ve ever heard. “The police work for me. You’ll need much more than a man in uniform to save you.”
Something snaps inside me. Fear, anger, desperation all blur together.
I stride forward and slap him across the face. The sound cracks through the room, sharp and clean. My hand burns instantly. He doesn’t move. The only sign that I even touched him is the faint red mark on his jaw and the look in his eyes, darker now, hotter.
“Get out,” I say through my teeth. “Get out of my apartment.”
His gaze drags down to my hand, then back to my face. For a second, I think he might hit me. But he doesn’t.
Instead, he smiles. “You’ll regret that.”
“I doubt it.”
“You will.”
He steps closer again, and I realize too late that the threat isn’t violence—it’s control. The way he looks at me makes the air thicken, like he’s already decided what happens next.
I could scream, throw something, try to run—but it wouldn’t matter. People like him don’t make empty threats. They make promises.
For a long moment, I just stand there, breathing hard, the sound too loud in the quiet room. If I say no, my brother dies. If I say yes, I give this man control over me. Either way, I lose.
He’s watching me patiently, and I know he’s certain of my answer like he already knows which way I’ll break.
My voice comes out small. “If I do this… if I agree to it, you promise me he’ll be safe.”
His gaze doesn’t flicker. “He’ll be alive,” he says. “Once you’re mine, his debt’s paid. You won’t need to worry about him again.”
The words don’t sound like mercy, but they’re the only thing close to it. I swallow hard. “I can’t believe I’m saying this,” I whisper, more to myself than to him. Then louder: “Fine. I’ll do it.”
He studies me for a moment, as if committing the sound of my surrender to memory. Then, very softly, he says, “Good girl.”
The way he says it makes my stomach twist.
“You don’t belong in this world,” he says quietly. “But now you’re in it. Which means you’re mine until I say otherwise.”