Chapter 4 - Menlow
The look on her face is worth every risk I just took.
Kirsten stares at me like I’ve grown a second head. Her mouth opens, then closes. Opens again. No sound comes out.
“You…” She swallows hard. “What did you just say?”
“A marriage clause.” I keep my voice even, though my pulse is racing. “By signing that contract, you’ve legally agreed to become my wife. You’re officially Mrs. Kirsten Karpov.”
“That’s not possible.”
“I assure you, it is.”
“You can’t just—” She stands abruptly, nearly knocking over the chair. “This is insane. You’re insane. I didn’t agree to marry you!”
I gesture toward the document. “Your signature says otherwise.”
“I didn’t read—You tricked me.”
“I gave you a contract. You chose not to read it thoroughly before signing.” I fold my hands on the desk. “That’s not a trick. That’s a lesson in due diligence.”
“Don’t you dare lecture me about due diligence.” Her voice rises. “You buried a marriage clause in an employment contract! That has to be illegal. It has to be—”
“It’s unconventional, certainly. But I have very good lawyers.”
She paces in front of my desk, heaving in large breaths as she does. I watch her process the information, cycling through disbelief and fury and something that looks like panic.
I should probably feel guilty about this. I don’t.
What I feel is relief. Because two hours ago, I was listening to Wallace and Tillman threaten her life, and now she’s mine. Protected. Safe from whatever those bastards had planned.
It started with a bug.
Something about those two rubbed me the wrong way the first day I met them, so after our first meeting, I had Pavel sweep my new office for surveillance devices.
Standard procedure when taking over a hostile company.
What I didn’t expect was to find three different listening devices hidden in the walls, all feeding back to servers controlled by Wallace and Tillman.
So I returned the favor and had Pavel plant our own bugs in their offices. If they want to play surveillance games, I’ll show them how a professional does it.
This morning, that decision paid off.
I was reviewing acquisition reports when Pavel patched the feed through to my laptop. Wallace’s voice came through first, followed by Tillman’s. Then a third voice, female and familiar.
Kirsten.
I listened to the entire conversation with my hands balled into fists beneath my desk. Heard them accuse her of accessing documents she shouldn’t have, and the confusion in her voice when she admitted she didn’t understand what she’d seen. Heard the fear creep in as they laid out their threats.
She was innocent. Completely, utterly innocent. Just a woman who stumbled onto something she shouldn’t have and now found herself caught in a web she couldn’t possibly comprehend.
And they were going to use her. Threaten her. Turn her into their spy or destroy her life trying.
I wanted to storm up there and put bullets in both their heads. To watch the life drain from their eyes while they realized who they’d crossed. It took every ounce of self-control I possessed to stay in my chair and keep listening.
But when Tillman mentioned making her life “very, very unpleasant,” something inside me snapped. The kind of snap that leads to plans rather than violence.
I couldn’t protect her as her boss. The power imbalance was too obvious, and any intervention would only make things worse for her. Wallace and Tillman would simply wait until I wasn’t looking, then strike when she was vulnerable. But as her husband?
That changes everything.
In the Bratva world, a man’s wife is untouchable. Sacred. Anyone who threatens her threatens the family, and the consequences are severe. Wallace and Tillman might not know the specifics, but they know enough about our world to understand the implications.
By marrying her, I’ve drawn a line in the sand. Cross it, and they answer to me. To my brothers. To our cousins. To every ally the Karpov name commands.
She’s under my protection now. Whether she likes it or not.
“This is kidnapping,” Kirsten spits out, still pacing. “False imprisonment. Fraud. I could call the police right now and have you arrested.”
“You could try,” I acknowledge, “but I wouldn’t recommend it.”
She whirls on me then, and her cheeks are pink with rage. “Is that a threat?”
“It’s a statement of fact. If you go to the police, they’ll ask questions. Questions about why someone would go to such lengths to marry you. That leads to the documents you saw. The documents that Wallace and Tillman are so desperate to keep hidden.”
She stops pacing. “What do those documents have to do with anything?”
“Everything.” I gesture to the chair she abandoned. “Sit down, Kirsten. There are things you need to understand.”
For a moment, I think she’s going to refuse. Her chin juts out stubbornly, and she curls her hands into fists at her sides. But then something in her seems to deflate, and she sinks back into the chair.
“Talk,” she demands. “And this better be good.”
“It won’t be good. But it will be the truth.” I take a breath, and then I ask, “What do you know about the Bratva?”
She furrows her brow. “The Russian mafia? I’ve seen movies, I guess. Why?”
“Because that’s what this is. What all of this is.
” I spread my hands to encompass the office, the building, everything beyond these walls.
“The company I acquired was a front for a rival Bratva operation. Wallace and Tillman aren’t just senior managers.
They’re Volkov soldiers, embedded here to oversee their family’s interests and keep the money flowing where it needs to go. ”
“That’s…” She shakes her head slowly. “That’s ridiculous. This is a tech company. We have quarterly reports and team-building exercises and a really aggressive recycling program.”
“All excellent cover for moving money. The documents you accessed? They’re transaction records from their illegal operations. Money laundering, mostly. Payments to people who don’t officially exist for services that can’t be discussed in polite company.”
She’s gone pale. “You’re serious.”
“Completely.”
“And you… you’re part of this? The Bratva?”
“My family has been involved for generations. The Karpovs control a significant portion of the operations in this city. Our cousins run the main branch while my siblings and I handle our own territory.” I hold her gaze without flinching.
“I’m telling you this because you’re already involved, whether you want to be or not.
Those documents are burned into your memory.
Wallace and Tillman know it. They were planning to use you to spy on me, and if you had come to your senses and refused, they would have made good on their threats. ”
“So your solution was to marry me?” Her voice pitches higher. “That’s insane. There had to be another way.”
“There wasn’t. Not one that would protect you completely.
” I stand and move around the desk, stopping a few feet from her chair.
“In our world, family is sacred. A man’s wife is off-limits.
By marrying you, I’ve made it clear that anyone who touches you answers to me. To my brothers. To every ally we have.”
“I didn’t ask for your protection.”
“You didn’t have to. Those men were going to destroy your life, Kirsten.
They tracked every file you accessed, every second you spent looking at those documents.
They had plans for you. Bad ones. I’ve seen what happens to people who become inconvenient to men like that.
I wasn’t going to let that happen to you. ”
She stares at me. I can see her mind working, processing everything I’ve told her. The fury is still there, simmering beneath the surface, but something else too. Fear, maybe. Or the beginning of understanding.
“Why do you care?” she asks. “You don’t even know me. We spent one night together. That’s not exactly a foundation for marriage.”
I think about lying. Giving her some pragmatic explanation about protecting my business interests or maintaining operational security.
Instead, I tell her the truth.
“My mother was a cruel woman. She hurt my siblings in ways I couldn’t always prevent.
Beat them when she was angry. Screamed at them for things that weren’t their fault.
Made them feel small and worthless just because she could.
I was the oldest. It was my job to protect them.
I failed more times than I care to count.
But I made a vow, years ago, that I would never stand by and watch someone suffer when I had the power to stop it. ”
Her brow creases. “That’s… not what I expected you to say.”
“I’m not what you expected. I know that.
” I take a step closer. “But I need you to understand something. I didn’t do this to trap you or control you.
I did it because it was the only way I could guarantee your safety.
When I heard them threatening you, heard the fear in your voice…
I knew I had to act. Protecting people isn’t just something I do.
It’s who I am. It’s the only thing that makes sense to me in a world that rarely does. ”
“By tricking me into signing a marriage contract.”
“Yes.”
“Without my consent.”
“You gave your consent when you signed.”
“I didn’t know what I was signing!”
“And whose fault is that?”
She surges to her feet, and suddenly, we’re inches apart. Her chest heaves with angry breaths, and her eyes blaze with a fire I haven’t seen from her before. Not at the bar. Not in our previous meetings. This is something new. Something fierce.
“You are unbelievable,” she hisses. “You think you can just swoop in and rearrange my entire life because you decided I needed saving? I’m not some damsel in distress. I don’t need a knight in shining armor, especially not one who’s apparently a Russian mobster!”
“I’m definitely not a knight. And my armor is far from shining.” I don’t back away. Don’t give her an inch. “But I am the man standing between you and people who would hurt you without a second thought. You can hate me for it if you want. That won’t change the facts.”
“The facts.” She lets out a bitter laugh. “The facts are that I’m apparently married to a criminal who admitted to being part of organized crime. What’s to stop me from going to the FBI? The police? Anyone who might actually help me get out of this?”
“Spousal privilege, for one. You’re my wife now.
Anything I’ve told you is protected.” I tilt my head and study her flushed face.
“And even if you could testify, what would you say? That your husband runs a legitimate business that happens to have some unconventional security measures? You have no proof of anything illegal. Just my word, which I would obviously deny.”
“So I’m trapped.”
We glare at each other. She’s close enough that I can smell her perfume again. That same floral scent with spice underneath. It makes my blood run hot in ways I shouldn’t be feeling right now.
She’s furious with me. Rightfully so. I manipulated her, tricked her, upended her entire existence without her permission.
And yet.
There’s something about the way she stands her ground. The way she refuses to crumble even when faced with information that would send most people running. She’s scared—I can see it in the way her hands tremble at her sides—but she’s not backing down. Not begging. Not crying.
Fighting.
It awakens something in me. Something I haven’t felt in a long time. A spark of admiration mixed with something darker. Something that wants to see just how far she’ll push.
“You should know,” she grinds out through gritted teeth, “that I will find a way out of this. I don’t care how many lawyers you have or how much power you think you hold. I am not going to be your prisoner.”
“I never said you were.”
“Then what am I?”
“My wife.” The word feels different now. Heavier. More real than it did when I signed the paperwork this morning. “And everything that comes with it.”
“Which is what, exactly?”
“Protection. Resources. Freedom to continue your life as you see fit.” I tick them off on my fingers.
“You can keep your job. See your friends. Maintain whatever routines matter to you. The only restriction is that you can’t discuss what I’ve told you with anyone outside my immediate family. For your safety as much as mine.”
“And if I break that restriction?”
“Then we’ll both face consequences. I’m not threatening you, Kirsten. I’m being honest about the reality we’re both in now. You’ve been pulled into a world you don’t understand. A world where information is currency and trust is earned in blood. The only way to survive it is together.”
She stares at me for a long moment. I watch the emotions play across her face, then she steps back, putting distance between us.
“I need to think,” she states flatly.
“Take all the time you need.”
“I need to be away from you.”
“That can be arranged. But you should know that Wallace and Tillman will be expecting you to report back to them soon. When you don’t, they’ll start asking questions.” I return to my seat behind the desk. “The safest place for you right now is close to me. Whether you like it or not.”
“I don’t like it. I don’t like any of this.”
“Noted.”
She turns toward the door, then pauses with her hand on the knob. When she speaks again, her voice is cold.
“This isn’t over.”
“I know.”
“I’m going to fight you on this. Every step of the way.”
I allow myself a small smile. “I’m counting on it.”
She yanks open the door and storms out without another word. I watch her go, noting the rigid set of her shoulders and the fury in her stride. Even angry, even scared, she moves with purpose. Like a woman who refuses to be broken.
She hates me right now. That’s fine. Hate is something I can work with. It’s better than fear, better than helplessness. Hate means she’s still fighting.
And something tells me that Kirsten Berry—Kirsten Karpov, now—is going to be one hell of a fighter.
I turn back to my laptop and pull up the surveillance feed from Wallace’s office. He’s on the phone, speaking fast. I don’t need to hear the words to know what he’s saying.
They expected her to come running back with information. When she doesn’t, they’ll know something’s changed.
Let them wonder. Let them worry.
Because whatever move they make next, I’ll be ready. And so will my wife.
Whether she knows it or not.