Chapter 7 - Lily
The heat from his touch on my face lingers against my skin, but it almost burns with the severity of the situation at hand.
I stare at him in complete disbelief. I can’t even find the words.
Marry him…he expects me to marry him despite everything he has done so far. Everything he represents.
Feeling like I’m going crazy from it all, I can’t help but laugh, yet it comes out more bitter and hollow than anything else.
“You’re out of your mind.”
As if nothing is possibly amiss, Mikhail stands there, annoyingly nonchalant about it all. His green eyes linger on me, frustratingly unreadable. The faintest pull of his lips stirs that frustration in me.
“You think this is funny?” I ask, eyes narrowing.
“No, I think it’s practical, and the best offer you’re going to get.”
An offer. He’s treating this like a business deal, and not him forcing my entire life to change just because of a few moments I wasn’t supposed to see.
“Marrying me is practical?” I throw back at him, unable to hide just how bewildered I am.
“It’s practical for you to marry me. For many reasons, frankly,” he says with a lazy shrug that makes my blood boil. “You’re already tied up in this, and you might as well make it official.”
My skin feels hotter, and my hand clenches. “I shouldn’t be involved in anything. I’m a med student. I have a future ahead of me that doesn’t involve you or the crimes you and your family commit.”
Mikhail chuckles, but it lacks warmth. “You can’t pretend like you’re above this now. You saw what you saw, and you know who I am. There’s no turning back now.”
“I don’t want to be part of this. I didn’t ask for this.”
“Yet, here you are. All because of one wrong turn,” he murmurs, tone hitting me hard.
Folding my arms over my chest to self-soothe, my legs hit the edge of the bed, forcing my steps to cease. My knees feel wobbly and unsure, like the weight of it all is dragging me down.
“This is too much…” I murmur, shaking my head in disbelief.
“I’m offering you a solution for all of this,” he reiterates, as if telling me again will make a difference.
“No, you aren’t,” I return, voice firmer. “You’re offering me a prison. I’m not marrying anyone with ties to—”
“Ties to what?” Mikhail cuts in smoothly, well aware of what I'm about to say. “Violence? Crime? Power?”
I try to hide it, but I flinch, and of course, he sees it.
“Do you really think you’re better than this world? You think being a med student makes you clean and completely untouchable?” He asks, taking on a more accusatory tone.
“It makes me someone willing to help others, not hurt them,” I grit through clenched teeth.
It happens so quickly I nearly miss it, but something flickers in his gaze—something too close to regret to ignore. But the moment it’s gone, his subtle grin resembles a smirk.
“You’re too smart not to notice that you’re already in too deep,” Mikhail says, too close to a taunt for my liking. “I’m offering you protection and freedom. Not a prison.”
“You locked me in a room. That isn’t freedom.”
“I didn’t lock you in here. You only convinced yourself I did because you can’t see past what I do for a living,” he says, forcing out a slow exhale as if he’s finally running out of patience.
“You know too much, and I can’t let you walk away.
Which is why I’m trying to meet you as close to the middle as I can. ”
“So that’s it?” I question, unable to keep my hands from shaking. “Those are my choices? I have to pick between being your wife or your prisoner?”
“Either you become my wife, or you face a fate worse than being a prisoner, as you like to put it.”
The implications are ice cold, but it doesn’t even faze him.
My throat tightens, and my heart feels weak after racing for so long.
I hate how calm and confident he is. How this is nothing out of the ordinary for him. He makes it seem like he has already mapped out every possible outcome of any move I might make.
It’s discouraging, and so is the fact that I’m likely not far off.
Turning away from him, keeping my arms crossed, I can’t help but feel like I’m offering my back like the perfect target. But I don’t want to look at him.
Glancing out the window, the luxury of his penthouse is so glaringly obvious that it annoys me. Even the view of the skyline is immaculate.
Someone as cruel and dishonest as he shouldn’t get to enjoy it.
A few weeks ago, I assumed the space belonged to a man who liked to keep things classy. But now, I see the truth.
The condo is nothing more than a pretty exterior built with blood money, made to distract with fancy illusions. Underneath it all is something far too sinister to fathom.
And I fell for it. I allowed myself to drift right into his web.
I attempt to swallow the lump in my throat. “Why me?”
“You mean, why not just kill you and be done with it?”
My stomach squeezes at the simple way he says it.
“Yeah, that.”
Mikhail’s steps approach me, getting far too close for comfort. But I force myself to turn around and face him. As much as I want to put more space between us, I don’t move.
He takes me in again, not at all ashamed of it. “Because killing you isn’t on the list of things I’m willing to do. I’d rather see you alive than dead, believe it or not.”
Annoyingly, my heart reacts to that, almost squeezing at the thought.
It brings me back to that night, when I can easily remember the way he touched me and the way his silky voice made me forget who I was and what I had lost for a little while.
That moment was addictive in its own right, but this isn’t seduction.
“You’re trying to trap me,” I murmur, feeling too much warmth between our bodies.
“I’m giving you a choice.”
“Backing me into a corner isn’t offering me a choice,” I remind him, doing my best to stand my ground despite it all.
Mikhail moves in a little closer, holding me captive with his stare alone.
“Let me lay it out for you then…you marry me, including the paperwork, the ring, and everything else. You go back to school, you finish med school. You get your titles, your relative freedom, and your life. Anybody who might be interested in seeking you out in connection with me or last night gets killed on the spot. Nobody lays a hand on you,” he says, pausing while his features harden.
“Or, you refuse, and I keep you tucked out of sight somewhere safe and secluded. Somewhere, nobody will find you for a long, long time. You’ll disappear from the public completely.
No school, no degree, and no helping people. ”
My skin goes cold, and I feel the blood drain from my face.
I know he means it. His eyes give away that he isn’t bluffing.
He takes me in, and his words come out gently. “If you think I won’t do it, then you’re underestimating just how far I’ll go for myself and my family. I can be fair, and I can be lighthearted, but don’t mistake that for weakness.”
“Wrapping control up like protection and care doesn’t change what it is,” I mutter, struggling to fight for what I want without reaching an immediate stalemate.
Mikhail doesn’t argue, but that’s not at all surprising.
Everything in me is screaming for me to run again, but I know that won’t get me anywhere. He’s too fast and too strong for me to get away from, and even if I did, he has his ways of getting me back.
And if he stops feeling merciful, then I have no doubt he’d cut his losses and be done with me.
I want to believe he wouldn’t hurt me just on the pretense of how we met, but that’s wishful thinking. I know what and who he is, and I know violence isn’t outside of his scope.
Every breath feels harder to come by, like the walls are closing in around me.
Moving again, I pull in a shaky breath and drop to the foot of the bed, burying my face in my hands.
I want nothing more than to open them again and find myself back home. Back in my normalcy and away from whatever the hell this situation has become.
No part of me wants to surrender to him or to let him believe I’ll be a pushover, but I also know my options are severely limited.
Fighting him won’t get me back in class.
I’ve worked too hard for my position. While everyone else slept, I stayed up studying. I earned a scholarship, and I sacrificed so much just to get there.
My education matters more than anything else. It’s my life, and I can’t lose it now.
Even if the faint gleam in Mikhail’s eyes resembles desire, I know it isn’t truly about that. It can’t be…not when he hardly knows me. It’s about keeping things clean and maintaining control over myself.
I can’t squeal if I’m married to him, and if his fate determines mine.
I want to shove it back in his face and tell him to go to hell, but in the back of my mind, I picture myself being stuck in this room forever, or potentially a worse one somewhere else entirely.
I see myself wasting away, unable to pursue my dreams or make something of myself. I’d just be a husk of my former self.
That mental image alone is enough to spike even more panic inside me.
Conceding is so unappealing, but so is losing everything I’ve worked hard for.
And as traitorous as the thought is, I drift back to that night. To the mutual attraction and chemistry between us. Even if it’s a long shot, I can’t help but wonder if that appeal might help lessen the blow of the arrangement.
Letting go of a shaky breath, I finally look up at him. “If I say yes, I can go back to school on Monday?”
Without hesitation, he nods.
It feels too good to be true, even if that’s exactly what I want.
“And nobody will follow me?”
“Nobody other than your guards,” he says, sounding far too agreeable despite the reality of the situation. “But otherwise, you’ll be free to live your life so long as you return. I’m giving you my word.”
His word doesn’t seem to weigh a whole lot in my mind at the moment, but I also know it’s the only thing I’ve got.
Staring at him for a long, quiet moment, I know what’s at stake, and I know exactly what he’ll take away from me if I don’t comply.
When I speak, there’s no strength in my voice. Only resentful defeat.
“Fine.”
Mikhail lifts a brow at me. “Fine?”
I know what he wants, and I push back the urge to get angry all over again.
“I’ll marry you,” I manage to get out despite how my throat attempts to close over. “Only for my freedom.”
Then, he grins, and it makes my skin crawl.
He’s pleased, and he knows he has won.