Chapter 8 – Roman
I slowly patrol the halls, hands clasped behind my back, boots echoing on marble. The mansion feels too quiet, too still. Every guard is in position, every plan running like clockwork—yet something in my gut twists, a warning I can’t shake.
The wedding preparations are in full swing.
People I don’t know walk through my house with flowers and fabrics, talking about colors and themes like this is some fairytale.
It’s not. It’s a business decision, a cover, a necessary evil.
Still, the thought of it—of her in white, standing beside me—unsettles something I can’t name.
Elara hasn’t spoken to me since I told her yesterday. She meant it when she said she hated me. I saw it in her eyes, the fire and disgust, the heartbreak. And yet, I can’t afford to care. I told myself this is control, this is strategy. But every time I picture her glaring at me, I feel…restless.
Yesterday, she spent the whole day in the library. I watched her from the security feed, lost in her world, her fingers smeared with paint. She found the art corner I set up for her. The one I told no one about.
She looked happy. Peaceful, even. And I shouldn’t give a damn about that, but I do.
Now, as I move down the corridor, my jaw tightens. Something’s changing. I can feel it in my bones. I just don’t know if it’s the world around me, or me.
“Boss.”
I stop mid-stride and turn. Luka’s coming fast, his expression tight, phone still in his hand. My frown deepens.
“What is it?”
“The Enforcer just called. He’s on his way.”
I blink. Adrian Rusnak.
“When did he get back from Greece?”
“Last night,” Luka answers. “And that’s not all—Lev called too. He’s also on his way here.”
I exhale sharply, irritation crawling up my spine.
Of course. Lev. I’ve been avoiding him for days.
He’s my number one antagonist in my marriage to Elara, and it’s all because he knows Sasha won’t be pleased.
The man’s become Sasha’s lapdog, all heart and no reason.
If she says jump, he jumps. If she says Roman’s an idiot, he’ll likely agree.
“Why the hell is everyone coming here?”
Luka glances around before stepping closer, lowering his voice. “Because the Enforcer’s not happy. Word’s spreading through Bratva and foreign channels—David Chang’s furious. He’s calling in favors, offering money. Some foreign buyers are threatening retaliation if his daughter isn’t returned.”
I hum quietly, jaw clenching.
David Chang. Furious. Threatening.
Good.
“Let them threaten,” I say coldly. “When David learns what’s coming, he’ll realize too late—his daughter is a Rusnak now.”
But even as the words leave my mouth, I feel something twist inside me. This isn’t just leverage anymore. Not a game. Not business.
Elara’s existence—her name, her blood, her fire—has just turned into the spark that could burn everything down.
“Boss?”
I bite back a snap and turn toward the staircase. Another guard hurries down, slightly out of breath.
“The Enforcer is here. He’s waiting in the foyer.”
Of course he is.
I throw Luka a glare. “Thanks for not mentioning that he’s almost here.”
He opens his mouth to respond, but I’m already walking off. My steps echo through the hallway as I head downstairs, jaw tight.
When I reach the foyer, Adrian’s standing there—towering, rigid, pissed. Jennie’s on the couch behind him, calm as ever, her soft smile a silent plea for me to keep the peace. I nod at her once, then focus on him.
“You should have left Elara Chang alone,” Adrian says without preamble. His voice carries that quiet fury that always precedes a storm. “David Chang is bad news.”
“So what?” I shoot back. “You afraid of David Chang now?”
His eyes darken instantly, shoulders squaring. “I’m not afraid of that bastard,” he growls, “but we have to be strategic about this.”
“What’s more strategic than marrying his daughter?”
His jaw flexes. “Dragging innocents into our world always ends in blood, Roman. You know that.”
I take a slow step forward, the air crackling between us. “She’s no innocent,” I say, voice low. “She’s been sabotaging her father. She chose a side. I’m just making sure she stays on it.”
Adrian studies me for a long, heavy moment, eyes sharp with disbelief. “And you think forcing her into marriage is how you make her stay?”
“I think it’s the only way to keep her alive.”
Jennie exhales quietly behind him. Adrian doesn’t move, but the vein in his temple throbs. For the first time in years, it feels like I’m standing opposite a brother instead of beside one.
“If shit blows in your face, you’ll understand,” Adrian says, his tone sharp enough to cut glass.
I’m about to respond—something brutal already forming on my tongue—but Jennie rises gracefully to her feet before I can.
“Enough,” she says softly, but there’s command in her voice.
“Both of you.” Her gaze shifts between us, calm yet firm.
“A wedding is happening in this estate soon, remember? There’s a bride somewhere upstairs, probably worried sick already.
She doesn’t need two Rusnak brothers snapping at each other on top of it. ”
Adrian exhales roughly and looks away, his fists unclenching. I drag a hand through my hair, forcing my temper to cool.
Before either of us can say another word, the door slams open—hard enough to rattle the frame.
Sasha storms in like a storm front, eyes blazing. “Roman, what the hell? Why have you kidnapped Elara?” Her voice cuts through the air.
I pivot, and Lev steps in front of her without thinking—instinct, not courtesy—his posture a warning. For a second, the room feels electric: two Rusnak men squared off; it doesn’t happen every day. We’re always so united, our rivals would have a field day with this.
“Can you all fucking calm down?” I snap, harder than I mean to. The word rips out of me, and everything freezes. It’s not my tone; it isn’t the way I like to speak, but it works. Silence drops like a curtain.
I lock eyes with Sasha. “Tell me this, would you rather Elara die or marry me?”
She goes pale. “Die?” The syllable is a question and a raw, jagged hurt.
“Yeah.” I keep my voice even because there’s no point in softening it. “Those were my options. Marry her or kill her. That’s it.” I let the weight of it hang in the room. “You should be thanking me, not snapping at me. Relax. Damn.”
They stare.
“I bet Lev didn’t tell you that, huh?” I scowl. “He was right there.”
Sasha turns to him. “Is that true, Lev?”
He nods like an obedient fucking puppy. “Yeah. Pakhan’s orders.”
Sasha sighs, deflated. “Wow.”
I turn to Adrian and tell him everything, from the mission to the museum to the crates, how Elara was changing routing numbers, how she confessed she was trying to sabotage her father, and finally, to the dinner and the auction.
I watch his face while I speak. Some pieces click for him as he hears it—David offering his daughter like an asset, the buyers with the predatory eyes.
His jaw tightens. He hears why I couldn’t hand her over, why I couldn’t leave her to be sold or pawned, why his brother, the Pakhan, gave the brutal choice that forced me into this.
When I finish, the room hums with the quiet of people weighing consequences. I don’t ask for approval. I don’t want it. I tell the facts because facts are the only thing that settles in this world. Emotions are messy. Plans are cleaner.
“Any questions?” I ask. My voice is low, controlled. No one speaks. Outside, the estate breathes—guards moving, the distant shuffle of men doing what men like us always do: Prepare for the next problem.
“Sasha? Lev?”
The sound of her voice hits me like a punch. It’s soft, uncertain, but enough to silence the room.
I turn, and so does everyone else. Elara stands on the staircase, in one of the simple cream dresses Luka brought up from the safe house. Her hair’s loose, falling over her shoulders like she forgot to tie it up. Her eyes widen when she spots Sasha and Lev.
For a heartbeat, no one breathes.
“Hi, Elara,” Lev says finally, lifting a hand in an awkward half-wave. His lips press together like he already regrets speaking.
She narrows her eyes at him, her face shuttering, and doesn’t reply.
Sasha just shakes her head softly, then crosses the room without another word. Jennie joins her, and together they reach Elara on the steps. Sasha takes her hand, Jennie the other, and the three of them move quietly toward the door, their footsteps echoing against the marble.
No one stops them.
I stand there, watching as the front doors swing open and sunlight spills in. Elara walks out without a single glance in my direction, like I’m nothing, like I’m not the man who holds her fate in his hands.
The doors close behind her, and the silence that follows cuts deeper than I expect. Luka shifts beside me, but I don’t move. I just keep staring at the door, jaw tight, chest heavy with something that feels dangerously close to annoyance.
At who? I don’t know.
“Look,” Adrian starts, and I swear if he says something against Elara, I’ll punch him.
“I’m sorry for how I reacted earlier,” he says. “It’s just…David won’t shut up.”
I nod. “What do you think he’ll do when he finds out I’m marrying his daughter?”
The men laugh. “He’ll flip so bad. I’d pay to be a fly on the wall when that happens.”
“Me too,” I say, smiling despite myself.
“We have to draw an attack-and-defense plan,” Adrian says, slipping instantly into enforcer mode. “We need to figure this out because David won’t take this hit lying down.”
“You’re right,” Lev says. “What do you suggest?”
Adrian heads to the door. “Let’s take a walk.”
The three of us step outside. The sun hits just right, and some of the tension loosens in my head. For a moment, the weight of the decision eases, then the work begins.
As we walk, the conversation turns tactical.
Lev’s voice is sharp. “We attack. Hit David hard, take no chances.”
Adrian shakes his head. “No. We lay low. Let David make the first move. He’s sloppy. He’ll give us an opening.” He glances at me. “Have you tried to find out if Elara has any of her father’s secrets? Something she might know that could help us?”
I shake my head. “Their relationship…it’s strained. They’re not close. She wouldn’t know much—if anything. Even if she does, she wouldn’t give it willingly. We’re kind of at loggerheads right now.”
Lev leans in to me, eyes narrowing. “You planning to exploit that?”
I’m about to answer when a sound cuts through our discussion. It’s soft laughter. I look up.
Elara is ahead in the garden, her head thrown back, laughing with Sasha and Jennie. For a brief moment, she seems…almost normal. Almost happy.
Then her eyes catch mine. The laughter dies in her throat. Her expression hardens, and the warmth disappears as quickly as it appeared. She’s back to being untouchable, guarded. My presence wipes the smile off her face.
Something twists in my chest, but I look away from her, dismissing her as quickly as she did to me.