Chapter 11
ISABELLA
I sit in this… prison. A well-decorated, very comfortable prison, yes, but it’s still a fucking prison.
The room in his family’s home is extravagant… from what I’ve seen, anyway. It’s impeccably clean, too. My mama would approve, though she never understood the American love of neutrals and whites. But even though this room is gorgeous, I still feel as if I’m caged.
I practically am.
He made sure to remind me of that before he left to go help with preparations or whatever, our earlier conversation forgotten.
All day, I’ve heard people coming and going outside my door.
Lev’s men scurry about, making arrangements.
He’s leaving nothing to chance, ensuring there’s no possible way for me to escape.
I’ve tried the windows, the locks, even the ventilation ducts.
He’s covered every possible escape. I met with his family, we discussed the wedding, then he brought me to this room.
I guess the whole freedom thing doesn’t apply here. The truth is, though, I could escape even this room if I put my mind to it, but breaking out of here doesn’t hold the appeal it once did.
I stare out the window when the door swings open, and Lev steps in. He’s calm, composed, every bit the cold and ruthless strategist I’ve come to despise. When his eyes meet mine, the fire in them stokes flames of my own.
He’s cunning, wicked and fearless… and I want him.
I so fucking want this man all to myself.
Yes. Yes, we’re going to do just fine. I mean, we’ll have our growing pains.
“It’s all set,” he says. “We’re almost ready.”
I’m glad he doesn’t ask, Are you? Because that would be a ‘hell no’. I try to remember the glimmer of whatever I saw in him earlier. I try to remember my promise to myself to make this work.
I clench my fists, fighting the urge to lash out. “You’re making a mistake,” I spit. “I’ll never be yours willingly.”
He steps closer, and for a moment, I see a flicker of something in his eyes, but it’s gone as quickly as it came. “You don’t have a choice,” he replies. “The sooner you accept that, the easier this will be for both of us.”
I manufacture a glare at him… playing along, my mind racing.
I’ll let him think he’s won.
As he turns to leave, I let my posture relax slightly, a hint of defeat in my stance. There’s some kind of surveillance in here. I know it. It’s all part of the plan. The more compliant I appear, the more likely he is to let his guard down. And when he does, I’ll be ready.
“I’ll be back soon.”
I open my mouth to stop him, but the door clicks shut behind him. What is taking so long?
I take a deep breath, forcing myself to stay calm.
I can’t afford to lose control now. This marriage may be a trap, but it’s also an opportunity.
I’ll use it to learn everything I can about the Bratva’s operations and his weaknesses.
I’ll gather every piece of information, every scrap of intel, and I’ll use it to bring not only Lev down but fucking everyone else.
My brother won’t even know what hit him.
Tonight, I’ll be his bride, but that doesn’t make me his. Not truly. I’ll bide my time, play my part, and when the moment is right, I’ll strike.
Lev thinks he’s the only one playing a game, but he’s wrong. So fucking wrong.
Sun breaks through clouds on the other side of the heavy drapes. Hope. There’s hope.
I stand in front of the mirror and make my decision. I’ll play along with him. I’ll let him think he won. He’ll expect me to fight, so I’ll give him that, and I might even fucking enjoy it.
Yes. This might work really, really well.
I could get out of here if I really wanted to; I know I could.
Then what? No matter how hard I try, no matter what resources I secure, I’ll never be able to take over my family on my own and claim my rightful position of power. If I could, I’d have done it already.
The odds are stacked against me. But with the help of the Romanovs…
I thought he said he was ready? Now that it’s go time, I’m growing impatient.
Finally, the door creaks open, and I tense, expecting another guard.
Instead, it’s Lev. He steps inside, closing the door softly behind him.
For a moment, we just look at each other, the silence heavy and charged.
This time, he doesn’t glare at me as he did before but looks a bit more… contemplative.
“What?” I ask, my voice sharper than I intended. I swallow hard when his brows draw together and his lips purse.
I remember what it was like being chained in his basement. I remember the erotic charge between us.
He doesn’t respond immediately, just walks over to the window and stares out. His presence is a bit unnerving. I don’t know what to expect.
“They tell me you’re not eating,” he says finally, his tone surprisingly gentle. “You need to keep your strength up.”
It’s the last thing I expect him to say. “Somewhere between ‘you’ll be my prisoner, oh, just kidding, how about my wife,’ I lost my appetite.” I roll my eyes.
“Watch it, woman,” he says in a low purr that makes my skin heat.
I can’t let him see that he’s affected me. I scoff, crossing my arms. “Why do you care? I’m only a pawn in this game. You know that. All you need is a warm body.”
He turns to face me. “Maybe you don’t have to fight this so hard.” He rests his hand on mine. “We’ve received word that your family knows you’re marrying me today. Let the adventure begin.”
My God. So soon, they know? I flinch, unprepared for the sudden wave of anxiety that grips me.
The room feels too small, the air too thick.
I gasp, trying to steady my breathing, but the panic takes hold.
I can almost feel my brother’s hands around my neck, squeezing the air out of my lungs.
He tried once before, but one of his beefy captains shoved him off and told him my father would kill him for losing his temper with me.
There are no barriers now. Though I celebrated the day we buried my father, I knew it meant I was fair game to Javier. I can still feel his hands around my neck. My eyes bulging as I clawed at his fingers and gasped for breath. The heat in my face and the bruises on my neck I had for weeks.
I’m struggling for breath. Reminding myself that won’t happen again.
There are many ways to kill a man, and I’ve rehearsed damn near all of them. He won’t hurt me again.
Lev’s expression changes. Frowning, he holds my hand. “Isabella, breathe. Look at me.”
I try to focus, but it’s hard. The walls feel like they’re closing in, and my chest is tight. “I can’t… I can’t breathe.”
“Listen to my voice,” he says, his tone steady and calming. “Inhale slowly, hold it, then exhale.”
I follow his instructions, my breaths shaky but gradually slowing. His eyes never leave mine. After what feels like an eternity, the panic begins to ebb.
“What happened there?” he asks.
I let out a breath, still lightly caught in the panic attack. I shake him off and try to brush it away. “Nothing. I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not fine. I mentioned your family. Is there something you need to tell me?”
There are lots of things I need to tell him and even more that I don’t.
I shake my head. “It’ll go away.” I turn to face him. It’s time to give him a bit of the truth. If the two of us are going to conquer together, he’ll need to know. I swallow hard. “Suffice to say, my family is nothing like yours.”
His gaze darkens, and he leans in closer. “I know this. But once you’re mine, they can’t touch you. They can try, but I won’t allow it.” He drops his voice. “None of us will.”
For a moment, we stand there in silence. I’m not sure how much of what he’s telling me is bullshit and how much is truth. He’s still the man who’s forcing me into this marriage, but right now, he’s also the man who helped me through a panic attack.
“Why are you being kind to me?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
He looks away, staring out the window. “You’re going to be my wife.”
In my world, that explains nothing. In his, there’s no more to say.
Maybe Lev isn’t just a monster. Maybe he’s as trapped as I am.
His words hang in the air, and for the first time, I see a crack in his armor.
I don’t need a man to protect me. I never have and never will. It matters to me to take care of myself.
“Even as your wife, I don’t want your sympathy,” I say, though the words lack their usual venom.
“I know.” He opens his mouth as if to say something else, then shakes his head. “We’re ready now. Get dressed.”
With that, he turns and leaves the room, the door closing softly behind him. I’m left standing by the window, my mind a whirl of conflicting emotions.
I stare around the room. I feel like I’ve just run a marathon.
Somebody left a white dress wrapped in plastic for me.
After carefully putting it on, I stand in front of the mirror, the silk of my wedding dress smooth under my fingers.
It’s beautiful, an intricate design of lace and satin that clings to my curves in all the right places.
But to me, it’s nothing more than a symbol of my captivity.
Lev has outdone himself in making sure this wedding is perfect. The room is filled with flowers we’ll use for the wedding, their cloying scent heavy in the air. I glance at the door, knowing there are guards posted just outside, ready to pounce at the slightest hint of rebellion.
A knock at the door startles me. His sister Polina, steps in. I knew I’d find sympathy with her, which is probably why he didn’t want me meeting her right away.
“Oooh. It’s gorgeous, Isabella.” Tall and willowy with white-blonde hair, she looks nothing like her brothers, but this family is unlike others. Maybe the only thing that makes the men look like each other are the scowls and muscles.
She’s carrying a small bouquet of roses, her expression a mixture of sympathy and resignation.
“You look beautiful,” she says softly, handing me the bouquet.
“Thanks,” I reply, trying to keep my voice steady. “Not bad for a fake wedding.” I laugh, but it sounds a bit choked.
Polina gives me a sad smile. “Oh, there’s nothing fake about this.”