Chapter Twelve - Dimitri
I watch her sleep from the doorway.
Janice is curled on the couch where I left her, my jacket still wrapped around her shoulders, face pale even in unconsciousness. Her breathing hitches occasionally, small distressed sounds escaping that suggest whatever dreams she’s having aren’t peaceful.
Not surprising, given what she witnessed tonight.
I should feel satisfaction. She’s here, in my space, completely dependent on my protection. The woman who nearly destroyed my empire is now trapped under my roof because her own actions set this chain of events in motion.
Instead, I feel something closer to guilt.
The Volkovs wouldn’t have noticed her if I hadn’t requested her specifically for that meeting. Wouldn’t have started surveillance if I hadn’t made it obvious she mattered. Wouldn’t have decided she was valuable leverage if I’d just let her disappear four years ago like I should have.
This is my fault.
Felix arrives an hour later, letting himself in with the spare keycard I gave him years ago. He takes one look at Janice sleeping on my couch and his expression hardens.
“She’s here.”
“Observant as always.”
“No need to be sarcastic.”
“The Volkovs made their move. Three men, armed abduction attempt. I intercepted.”
“How many bodies?”
“All three.”
Felix exhales slowly. “Cleanup?”
“Already handled. Oleg has people on it.”
“And her?” He gestures toward Janice. “What’s the plan?”
“She stays here. Under protection until the Volkov situation is resolved.”
“That could take weeks. Months, even, if they decide to escalate.”
“Then she stays for months.”
“She’s not going to agree to that.”
“She doesn’t get a choice.”
Felix studies me with those pale eyes that see too much. “This was all part of your plan, huh?”
I don’t confirm or deny. Don’t need to. Felix knows me too well.
“Does she know?” he asks.
“Not yet.”
“When were you planning to tell her?”
“When she wakes up. After she’s processed the immediate danger and understands there’s no other option.”
“There are always other options.”
“Not good ones.”
Felix crosses to the window, hands in his pockets. “Damien is going to lose his mind when he finds out you’re marrying a civilian. One with no connections, no value to the family, who published an exposé about our operations.”
“Damien will accept it because the alternative is war with the Volkovs, and we’re not ready for that yet.”
“You’re gambling a lot on assumptions about what Damien will or won’t accept.”
He’s right. I am.
“Go home, Felix. Get some sleep. We’ll deal with family politics in the morning.”
He doesn’t move immediately. Just watches Janice sleep with an expression I can’t quite read.
“She’s going to hate you for this,” he says finally.
“Probably.”
“You’re fine with that?”
Am I? I turn the question over, examining it from all angles.
Janice has every reason to hate me. For ending things four years ago. For getting her fired. For threatening her with a gun. For saving her life tonight in a way that binds her to me whether she wants it or not.
Adding marriage to that list won’t change much.
“I’m fine with it,” I say.
Felix shakes his head but doesn’t argue further. He leaves the same way he came—silent, efficient, already calculating how to manage the fallout from decisions I haven’t officially made yet.
I return to watching Janice sleep, cataloging details I have no right to notice. The way her hair falls across her face. The soft curve of her hip visible even under my oversized jacket. The slight part of her lips that makes me remember how they tasted four years ago.
She’s mine now.
The sun is rising when she finally stirs.
Janice wakes slowly, confusion crossing her face before memory catches up. I watch the exact moment she remembers—gunshots, bodies, blood. Her hand flies to her chest, fingers pressing against fabric that’s stiff with dried blood that isn’t hers.
“You’re safe,” I say from the chair I moved closer while she slept.
She jumps, clearly not expecting me. “How long have you been sitting there?”
“Awhile.”
“That’s not creepy at all.”
“Would you prefer I left you alone in an unfamiliar space after the night you had?”
She doesn’t answer. Just looks down at herself, at the ruined clothes, and makes a small sound of distress.
“There’s a shower through there.” I gesture toward the guest suite. “Clean clothes laid out. Take your time.”
“I need to call Diana, or Mom.”
“Diana knows you’re safe. I had my assistant contact her this morning with a message that you’re dealing with a family emergency and will be out of the office for a few days.”
“You can’t do that on my behalf. She should hear it from me.”
“I can. I did. Shower, Janice. You’ll feel better.”
She wants to argue. I can see it in the set of her jaw, the flash of defiance in her eyes. But she’s also covered in blood and clearly desperate to be clean.
She disappears into the guest suite without another word.
I hear water running twenty minutes later and use the time to make coffee, pull together breakfast neither of us will eat, and prepare for a conversation that’s going to go badly no matter how I approach it.
When Janice finally emerges, she looks better. Calmer. The clothes I had brought up fit reasonably well—soft pants and a sweater that’s still too big but at least clean. Her hair is damp, face scrubbed bare of makeup. They’ll do until I can get something tailored.
She’s beautiful in a way that has nothing to do with polish and everything to do with the particular challenge she represents.
“Sit,” I say, gesturing to the couch.
“Just tell me what happens now. Are the Volkovs going to try again? Do I need to leave the city, change my name?”
I pour two cups of coffee, hand her one, even though she makes no move to take it. “The Volkovs targeted you because they think you matter to me. That attacking you would force me back into negotiations.”
“So tell them I don’t matter. Tell them it was a mistake, that you barely know me, that—”
“They won’t believe it. Not after I specifically requested you for meetings, not after surveillance showed me intervening when they made their move.
” I set my own cup down untouched. “You’re marked now.
A known weakness. They’ll keep coming until they either succeed in taking you or I give them what they want. ”
“Which is?”
“Compliance. An alliance through marriage to Elena.”
She finally takes the coffee, wrapping both hands around the mug like she needs the warmth. “So do it. Marry her. Get them off my back.”
“No.”
“Why not? You said it yourself, I’m nobody. Why risk all this for me?”
“You’re not nobody.” The words come out sharper than intended. “You’re the woman who nearly destroyed everything I built. Who exposed operations that should have stayed buried. Who looked at me four years ago like I was worth knowing, and it hasn’t stopped haunting me since.”
Janice goes very still. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying the Volkovs are right. You do matter. More than you should. More than is strategic or smart or safe.” I move closer, watching her tense but not retreat. “I’m done pretending otherwise.”
“What?”
“I’m going to marry you.”
Janice stares at me, coffee forgotten. “You’re insane.”
“Probably.”
“I’m not marrying you. I’m not… this is ridiculous. We barely know each other. We hate each other. I published an exposé about your criminal empire, for God’s sake!”
“I am aware.”
“Then you understand why this is the worst idea you’ve ever had.”
I let myself smile. “It’s not about good ideas, Janice. It’s about protection. Marriage puts you under my name, my authority, my family’s umbrella. The Volkovs won’t touch you if you’re mine legally. No one will.”
“There has to be another way.”
“There isn’t.”
“Witness protection. I could disappear, start over somewhere new.”
“Why, to spend the rest of your life looking over your shoulder? Running every time someone gets too close? That’s not life.”
“Better than being married to you!”
The venom in her voice should sting. It doesn’t. I expected resistance, expected fury. Expected everything except easy acceptance.
“You have until tomorrow morning to decide,” I say calmly. “Marry me, accept the protection that comes with my name, and live. Or refuse, and I’ll put you on a plane to somewhere far away where the Volkovs might not find you. Might.”
“That’s not a choice.”
“No. It’s not, but it’s the only option I’m offering.”
Janice sets the coffee down with shaking hands. “You’re doing this for revenge, because of what I did. You want to trap me, control me, make me pay for the exposé.”
“Yes.”
The admission stops her mid-sentence.
“I want you to pay for what you did,” I continue.
“I want you trapped under my roof, under my control, unable to run or hide or pretend you didn’t nearly destroy me.
I want revenge for four years of searching, four years of being haunted, four years of wanting something I convinced myself I couldn’t have.
” I step closer, close enough to see her pupils dilate.
“But more than revenge, I want you safe. That means marriage. Whether you like it or not.”
“I hate you.”
“I know.”
“This is kidnapping. Coercion.”
“It’s protection.”
“It’s a cage!”
“A cage that keeps you alive.” My voice hardens. “You think I want this? You think I want to bind myself to a woman who tried to destroy me? Who published my secrets for the world to see? Who reminds me every time I look at her that I’m capable of weakness?”
“Then let me go!”
“I can’t.” The words tear out of me, raw and honest. “I tried that once. It didn’t work. You came back, and now you’re in danger because I was too selfish to stay away. So yes, this is a cage. It’s the only way I know to keep you breathing.”
Silence descends, heavy and charged. Janice’s breath comes quick and shallow, her eyes bright with unshed tears.
“I need time,” she says finally. “To think. To process.”
“You have until morning.”
“That’s not enough!”
“It’s all I’m offering.”
She stares at me for a long moment, then turns and walks toward the guest suite. Stops in the doorway without looking back.
“You’re a monster.”
“I know.”
“You don’t even care.”
“I care about keeping you alive. Everything else is secondary.”
She disappears into the bedroom, and I hear the lock click. Pointless—I have keys to every door in this penthouse—but I let her have the illusion of control.
Tomorrow morning she’ll give me her answer.