Chapter 3 - Dante
The iron gates opened like jaws. My security team stood on both sides, weapons holstered over their backs.
I winced. I should have called ahead and reminded them to keep their strength at bay. Alisa was afraid enough already. I threw her a glance and, not to my surprise, she looked like she’d rather throw herself into shark-infested waters than spend another minute in my car.
“What the hell is this place?” she snapped at me, her head tilting upward to catch full sight of the gates.
“My house.”
She paled.
We tore up the winding drive, tires humming over asphalt as towering pines closed in on both sides—like nature itself was trying to keep out the rest of the world.
I knew this was insane.
Marriage papers.
I still couldn’t believe I’d said it out loud. That wasn’t the plan when I’d outbid everyone in that room. When I’d seen her on that stage, all I’d wanted was to get her away from those vultures before she ended up with some coked-out arms dealer or revenge-obsessed cartel prince.
But the second I had her in my car, something shifted. Maybe it was the adrenaline. Maybe it was seeing her after four years, still just as beautiful, making my chest ache with something I thought I’d buried. Whatever it was, I knew I couldn’t let her walk away.
I told myself a lot of shit, but the truth was that she wasn’t safe after what happened tonight. And there was only one way to make sure no one else could claim her.
Make her a Lebedev.
My wife.
The gates had closed behind us a mile back, and between us lay just silence and a sky full of stars. The headlights beamed through the dark, and then it appeared.
My house.
“We’re here,” I announced, driving up to the porch.
The mansion rose three stories high and was a thing of beauty with all that glass and stone, and those sharp edges and quiet power.
It sat at the edge of a private ridge, like it had been dropped there on purpose to keep watch over the world below.
Warm lights spilled from the windows, casting a soft glow across the curved driveway and the beautiful grounds.
Beside me, Alisa’s breath caught. Her fingers dug into the leather seat.
“What the hell?” she whispered, pressing her face closer to the window. “This isn’t a house. This is a—a—”
This place didn’t hint at money—it screamed it. Bold and built to be seen. I understood why she was overwhelmed, but I needed her to be comfortable here.
“It’s just a place to sleep, Alisa,” I said.
“Right,” she said. “Just like the Taj Mahal is just a headstone.”
I smiled and killed the engine. For a moment, we sat in silence. The kind of silence that’s too full of words neither of us wanted to say first.
Finally, I got out of the car, circled to her side, and pulled open the door. Alisa didn’t move. She stayed frozen in her seat, staring straight ahead, as if she ignored me long enough, I might disappear.
“We’re here,” I said, extending my hand.
She looked at it like I was offering her a live grenade. “I heard you the first time.”
“Then get out of the car.”
“No.”
For someone who used to blush if I so much as raised an eyebrow, she sure had a talent for digging in her heels when it counted.
I leaned down, bracing my arm against the car door. “Alisa.”
“Don’t ‘Alisa’ me,” she snapped. “You can’t just—just kidnap me and force me to marry you!”
“I didn’t kidnap you. I saved you.”
“From kidnappers! Only to become one yourself!”
I ran a hand through my hair, fighting the urge to just pick her up and carry her inside. “I’m not keeping you prisoner.”
“Oh, really?” She finally looked at me directly, those honey-brown eyes flashing with fire. “So I can just walk out of here? Go home and pretend none of this ever happened?”
“No.”
“That’s what I thought.”
“Alisa—”
“No. You’re out of your mind. I’m not marrying you. Are you kidding me right now?” she screeched.
I leaned on the open car door. “What’s your plan then? Sit here and pout in the driveway? Maybe freeze to death just to make a point?”
“I’d rather risk hypothermia than be dragged into some Bratva marriage cult.”
“Five minutes,” I said. “Let’s just go inside to talk. Hear me out, will you? Then you can call me crazy to my face and storm out in style.”
“Talk,” she repeated, clearly not believing me.
“Yes, talk. Like adults. In a house with heat and food and no one trying to auction you off to the highest bidder.”
That hit a nerve. She flinched, then looked away. For a second, I thought I’d pushed too hard. But then she unbuckled her seatbelt.
“Fine.” Her jaw clenched, but eventually she kicked open her door with way too much attitude for someone in borrowed heels. She motioned at me to walk first and stomped after me, muttering something about ‘unhinged Russian cavemen’.
I held back a smile.
God, I couldn’t believe I was saying this, but I think I missed her tongue.
“This is really your house?” she asked as we approached the front door.
I threw a look over my shoulder. The satin dress they’d put her in caught the moonlight, clinging to every curve. I forced myself to look away.
“Yes.”
“All of it?”
“All of it.”
She let out a small, disbelieving laugh. “I always wondered what you did for a living. Guess now I know.”
The accusation in her voice was clear. I didn’t bother defending myself because she wasn’t exactly wrong.
The front door opened before we reached it. My housekeeper, an older woman who’d worked for my family since I was a kid, stood in the doorway.
“Mr. Lebedev,” she said, nodding respectfully. Her eyes slid to Alisa, but being discreet was her thing, and she didn’t let her expression falter.
“We’ll be in the library,” I said, guiding Alisa past her. “And Maria? Please bring some food. And coffee.”
“Of course, Sir.”
I led Alisa through the main hall, past the living room with its twenty-foot ceilings, up the stairs, down the hallway, and past the wall of windows overlooking the bay. She took it all in silently.
The library was at the end of the hall—dark wood, leather furnishings, and bookshelves lining every wall. On one of the many tables, a single folder waited.
The marriage papers I’d ordered while driving here. One text to my lawyer at a red light, and everything was arranged. Sometimes it paid to have people afraid of disappointing you.
Alisa stood beside me and eyed the manila envelope. “You planned this.”
“Of course I didn’t plan this! I had no idea you’d be there tonight,” I snapped back. “And once I saw you, I… improvised.”
“With a marriage license? That’s not something you just happen to have lying around,” she fought back.
I sighed, needing to de-escalate, and gestured for her to take a seat and moved over to the other side of the table. “When you’ve been in my world long enough, you learn to move fast.”
“Your world,” she repeated. “The criminal world.”
“Alisa, sign the damn papers,” I sighed, handing her a pen
She stayed standing and, of course, refused to take it. “I’m not signing those papers.”
I flipped open the folder. “You are if you want to stay alive.”
“Are you blackmailing me? Look… if you missed me… ” Her voice faltered, and she paled. Actually paled.
I tried not to roll my eyes. “Stop flattering yourself, will you? I’m doing this for you!”
She looked at me like I’d grown a second insane. “This is insane. You’re insane.”
“Maybe,” I agreed. “But I’m also right. Look, you need protection. Those guys back there? They’re not done with you. And I’m your best shot at staying alive.”
“So protect me! Be my bodyguard! That doesn’t require a marriage license!”
“It’s not that simple.”
“It is that simple! You’re making it complicated!”
I leaned in closer, lowering my voice. “You want to go back to your apartment? They know who you are, Alisa, and they’ll find you one way or another. You think they won’t come for you again?”
Her face paled. I hated using her fear against her, but I needed her to understand.
“You don’t know what you’re dealing with,” I continued. “These people don’t play by normal rules. But they do respect territory. And if you’re mine—officially mine—they’ll back off.”
“I’m not property!”
“In their world, you are. And right now, you’re in their world whether you like it or not.”
She shook her head. “How do I know you’re not working with them? That this isn’t just… part of the plan?”
The accusation stung more than it should have. “If I wanted to hurt you, I’ve had plenty of chances.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the only one you’re getting.” I pushed the folder toward her side of the desk. “Sign the papers, Alisa.”
“No.”
“Sign the papers, and I’ll keep you safe.”
“Safe? With the Bratva? That’s like jumping into the River for protection from the alligators!”
I slammed my palms on the desk, leaning forward. “Those men who took you? They thought using you would send a message. They’re not going to stop just because you don’t want to be involved.”
She stepped up to the desk, matching my posture, her hands flat against the wood. “So what, marrying you magically solves everything?”
“Yes! It tells them you’re off-limits. That if they touch you, they’re declaring war. I come from a powerful family, Alisa. So powerful that men out there will wet their pants before they touch you.”
“And what if I don’t want to be a part of your little gang war?”
“You already are because of who your father is! Your father has had it out for half the people in that room tonight, and now that they know who you are, they’ll take their rage out on you.”
We were inches apart now, both leaning over the desk, breathing hard. Her eyes blazed with anger, so close to mine that my pulse quickened.
I could smell her perfume. Could see the rapid pulse at the base of her throat. Could almost taste the memory of her lips.
Those parted lips. So very close to mine… One move, and I’d be kissing her instead of bargaining with her life. If I leaned forward just a little more…
What the fuck was I doing?
I jerked back, breaking the spell.
“You don’t have a choice,” I said, my voice rougher than I intended. “Not if you want to live.”
She straightened slowly, her eyes never leaving mine. “There’s always a choice.”
“Not this time,” I said. “Those men might not be so gentle next time.”
She swallowed hard. “So what, I’m just supposed to trust you blindly?”
“I’m not asking for you to trust me. I’m offering protection.”
“And what will it cost me in return?”
I looked at her directly, stunned that she’d even have thought such a thing. Maybe she’d forgotten who I was. “There’s no cost, Alisa.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Nothing else? So this is just… a business arrangement?”
“Exactly.”
I said it was business. Even as every muscle in my body screamed it wasn’t.
“Bullshit.” She took a step closer. “What do you really want, Dante?”
What did I want? I wanted to go back four years. I wanted to have made a different choice. I wanted to be honest with her from the start.
“Mostly,” I lied. “I just want you safe, and you need me to help you right now.”
“Yeah,” she scoffed. “Sacrificing for a person in need? Refreshing, for a criminal.”
I narrowed my eyes. “There are all kinds of criminals. Good and bad. Useful and selfish. You think everyone wearing a badge is better than me?”
“Oh, spare me. Robin Hood in a three-piece suit.”
“You like the suit, though.” I couldn’t help but let out a grin.
She flipped me off. Elegant as ever.
And then—
She grabbed the pen.
“What are you doing?” I asked, in utter and complete disbelief. I mean, this is what I had wanted the whole time, but to actually see her agree set even my wildest imagination on fire.
She didn’t look up. “Signing. Before I change my mind.”
I didn’t breathe until the pen dropped and she stepped back like the thing had burned her.
“I hate you for this,” she muttered.
“I know.”
But I couldn’t stop the way my chest clenched as I looked at her. The heat. The fight. The fire that hadn’t dimmed a single bit.
She could hate me all she wanted. She was mine now. And I wasn’t letting go. Not again.