Chapter 20 Alexei
Alexei
We’ve been home from the restaurant for forty-three minutes when my phone starts ringing.
The estate’s main room feels like a tomb. Mila sits on the couch staring at her hands while I pace in front of the fireplace. Neither of us speaks. What is there to say? One video has destroyed months of security planning in thirty seconds.
My phone buzzes again. Dmitri’s name flashes for the fourth time. I ignore it.
“You should answer,” Mila says without looking up.
“Not yet.”
“He won’t stop.”
She’s right. My brother never does. The sound of a car in the driveway confirms it.
Dmitri walks in without knocking. “We need to talk.” His voice is flat and controlled, the kind that means someone’s about to get their ass handed to them.
Mila finally looks up.
“How bad?” I ask.
“Seven families called in two hours. They’re asking if the Kozlov heir has lost his head over a girl.” He drops into the chair opposite us. “The video’s already at thirty thousand views.”
Mila goes pale. “Thirty thousand?” she whispers.
“And climbing. Comments are already saying you’re distracted, and that you’ve gone soft.” Dmitri scrolls through his phone. “Novikov shared the clip an hour ago, calling it proof the Kozlovs are losing focus.”
I stop pacing. “He said that?”
“Direct quote.” Dmitri’s eyes shift to Mila. “He’s using you to question our control.”
“This is my fault,” she whispers. “I pushed you to take me out. I just wanted to feel normal.”
“This isn’t your fault,” I assure her.
“You told me it was dangerous. You said we should stay hidden, but I pushed until you gave in.”
Dmitri exhales, his expression caught between sympathy and irritation. “The damage is done. Now, we focus on controlling it.”
My phone vibrates. Leonid’s name flashes on the screen.
“Answer it,” Dmitri says. “We need to know how he’s reacting.”
I put the call on speaker. “Leonid.”
“Alexei, we have a problem.”
“I’m aware.”
“Everyone’s asking about my daughter’s relationship with you. Whether this alliance is official or if you’re just fucking around with my child for entertainment.”
Mila flinches at the crude words.
“What did you tell them?” I ask.
“Nothing. I don’t know what to say. Is this serious or not?”
I glance at my brother, then at Mila, and the answer leaves my mouth before I can stop it. “It’s serious.”
“Then make it official. Tonight. Before more speculation destroys both our names.”
Dmitri nods once. I want to hurl my phone across the room.
“What do you mean by ‘official’?” I ask.
“An engagement announcement. A public statement confirming what everyone saw. Make it clear this isn’t a fling and that she’s off-limits.”
I snort. “You want me to propose?”
“I want you to say you already did. Retroactively. Tell them the engagement happened weeks ago, and tonight was your first appearance as a couple.”
Mila springs to her feet. “No.”
“Excuse me?” Leonid’s voice cuts through the speaker.
“I said no. You don’t get to announce my engagement without asking me first.”
“Mila—” her father begins.
“Don’t ‘Mila’ me. This is my life. My future. You don’t get to decide who I marry just to protect your reputation.”
“This isn’t about what anyone wants,” Dmitri says evenly. “That video makes Alexei look reckless. Enemies are circling.”
“So, we lie about being engaged to save face?”
“We tell a version that protects both families,” Dmitri replies. “People don’t need the messy truth.”
“The truth is I’m being held captive by a man who can’t control his temper in public.”
Silence falls. Even Leonid goes quiet.
Her words hit hard. I know she’s angry and scared, lashing out because her world just imploded. But hearing her call what we have captivity with benefits freezes something in my chest.
“Enough.” I end the call and face them both. “This conversation’s over until I decide what to do.”
“Alexei—” Dmitri starts.
“I said it’s over. Sit down, Mila. We’ll discuss this here—not let everyone else decide for us.”
She crosses her arms. “I don’t take orders from you.”
“You do when it’s about your safety. Sit. Down.”
Something in my tone must hit, because she drops to the couch, stiff-backed and silent.
Dmitri moves toward the door, but I motion for him to stay.
“Sit. We’re not done.”
“What logistics?” Mila snaps. “I will not agree to a fake engagement.”
“It wouldn’t be fake.”
The words slip out before I can stop them, and they stare like I’ve lost my mind.
“What did you just say?” she demands.
“I said it wouldn’t be fake. If we’re going to do this, we do it right.”
“You want to get engaged? Right now? Because of a video?”
“I want to protect you. If that means making this official, then yes.”
“That’s not a proposal.”
She’s right. Everything about this conversation sounds like strategy, not love.
But what choice do we have? The video changed everything, making us public in ways we weren’t prepared for.
“Sometimes, business and personal align,” I tell her.
“God, you’re just like my father. Everything is strategy. Everything serves some larger purpose.” Mila starts pacing. “What happens when the threats are over? When you don’t need to protect me anymore? Do we just stay married out of obligation?”
“That’s not—”
“That’s exactly what this is. You’re proposing marriage as a security measure. If we’re going to do this—and I’m not saying we are—then it happens on my terms.”
“What terms?” Dmitri asks before I can.
“First, this isn’t Dmitri’s decision, or my father’s decision, or even yours,” she says, looking at me. “It’s mine. I decide whether to say yes, and I decide when to announce it.”
“Mila—” I start.
“Second, if I agree to this, it’s because I choose to, not because I’m backed into a corner with no options. That means you present me with alternatives—real ones—before I make my choice.”
“What kind of alternatives?” Dmitri asks.
“That’s your job to figure out, but I won’t be forced into marriage because it’s the only path you’re willing to consider.”
“And third?” I ask because I sense there’s more.
“Third, if I say yes, then this becomes real. Not a business arrangement, and not a convenience. Real. Which means you treat me like the woman you’ve chosen to marry.”
Treat her like the woman I’ve chosen to marry. I’ve never considered what that would look like. I have no template for being a husband. No idea what it means to choose someone every day instead of just protecting them. The realization that I’m unprepared for what she’s asking…
Dmitri clears his throat. “If I may interrupt this domestic dispute, we have more immediate concerns. The video has been shared by intelligence networks across the city. Everyone knows where you were tonight. This location is compromised.”
Fuck. I was so focused on the political fallout that I didn’t consider the security implications.
“I’ve already had Boris prepare alternate locations,” my brother adds. “You need to move her tonight.”
Mila stops pacing. “Move me where?”
“Somewhere more secure that hasn’t been photographed and geotagged on social media.”
“We’ve talked about relocating,” I remind her. “This makes it necessary. The restaurant was three miles from here. The metadata on the video shows the time and location. Anyone with basic intelligence skills can triangulate your general area.”
“So, I’m being shuffled around again. To another prison.”
“To another secure location,” Dmitri corrects. “Under full lockdown. No outside contact except through approved channels. Twenty-four-hour guard rotation. Controlled access to all communications.”
Mila sinks back into the couch. “This keeps getting worse.”
My phone rings again. Leonid, probably wondering why I hung up on him.
“We need an answer about the engagement,” Dmitri says before I can decline the call.
“I need time to think,” Mila says.
“We don’t have time. The longer we wait, the more speculation grows, and the more our enemies can use this against us.”
“How long?”
“Until tomorrow morning. Dawn at the latest.”
She looks at me with something that might be desperation. “And if I say no?”
“Then we figure out another way to control the narrative.”
“What other way?”
I don’t have an answer. The engagement announcement is the cleanest solution, and the one that makes the most sense strategically.
Watching Mila sit there looking trapped and overwhelmed makes me want to find alternatives. It makes me want to protect her from this decision, too.
“We’ll figure it out,” I tell her.
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the best I can give you right now.”
She stands and heads toward the stairs. “I need to pack. Again.”
“Mila—”
“Just tell me where I’m going, so I know what to bring.”
Dmitri checks his phone. “The compound outside Sergiev Posad. Two hours northeast. It’s an underground bunker in the mountains.”
“Sounds perfect.” Her voice drips with sarcasm. “Another beautiful prison.”
She disappears upstairs. I hear her bedroom door slam.
“She’s not wrong,” Dmitri says once we’re alone. “You are asking her to choose between marriage and death.”
“I’m asking her to let me protect her.”
“Can you hear how that sounds?”
“We’re talking bounties and kidnapping attempts, Dmitri.”
“Fair point.” He walks to the window and looks out. “But you’re doing exactly what I did with Katya. Using protection as justification for control.”
“This is different.”
“How?”
“I’m not lying to her about who she is. She knows exactly what’s happening and why.”
“You’re lying to yourself if you think that makes this better.”
My phone vibrates with a text from Boris. Compound secured. Ready for transport in thirty minutes.
“We need to go,” I tell Dmitri.
Dmitri moves for the door. “I’ll coordinate with Boris. But Alexei… push her too hard, and she’ll run the first chance she gets.”
“She won’t.”
“How can you be sure?”
I’m not. Not about her. Not about what I’ll give up to keep her safe. Not about whether protection and control are the same damn thing.