Chapter 9
Peighton
Ifollow Gustav because there is nowhere else to go.
His warning still nips in the air behind us. The notion that anyone outside his house could do worse than he can does something strange to my stomach.
He walks ahead, rifle raised, his broad body cutting a path through the icy air. The guards move like shadows around us, weapons drawn.
When we reach the castle steps, Gustav lifts a hand. The guards freeze. Another wave of them emerges from behind the stone columns, rifles trained outward. Their posture softens once they recognize him. They signal that the vile guests wait inside.
My pulse spikes.
Gustav enters the castle with the confidence of a man expecting a battle. The castle feels different. More alive.
The guards peel away and take formation along the walls as we approach the great room. Gustav pushes open the massive door.
Guards and four men wait inside.
They stand beside a fireplace, hands at their sides as if they have nothing to fear. The tallest one steps forward. He looks young, maybe Gustav’s age. Twenty-five-ish. Long brown hair, thick beard, eyes like pale ice. His suit is immaculate. His posture is too relaxed for someone trespassing.
He smiles when he sees me.
“Peighton Pacciano,” he says, the Russian accent smooth and practiced. “A California mafia princess. Wasn’t sure there was such a thing, but here she breathes.”
I lift my chin.
He smiles at my silent response.
“Shy?”
I scoff. “No.”
“Interesting. Well, I’ve been waiting to see what the Americans are producing these days.”
Gustav’s jaw flexes.
The man continues, “I am Vlad Morozov. I hold a Yellow Card. Got it last year. Expires soon, and I have one life left.”
My heart trips. One life. Which means one spouse... or victim.
Vlad gestures toward me with a slow sweep of his hand.
“I want half your territory, or her.”
Gustav steps forward so fast I flinch. His muscles flex tight. “Our territories won’t change, and she’s not available.”
“She is not married,” Vlad counters calmly. “Not bound. Which means she is fair game.” His tone is smooth and cruel. “We know the wedding is planned for next week.”
Gustav says nothing, and the air thickens. My heart hammers.
Vlad’s gaze sharpens. “And since you have not wed, I can claim her. You know the rules.”
Gustav’s fingers whiten around the rifle.
My breath grows shallow. Vlad is more put together than I expected. Attractive, even. But the cold in his eyes makes me nervous. At least with Gustav, the madness is not hidden. With Vlad, I’m near a snake who might be coiled to strike or sleep.
Suddenly, Gustav growls, “I already chipped her.”
...As if everyone understands Gustav-talk.
Vlad blinks. “You did what?”
“Microchipped. She’s mine.”
I dug that damn thing out of my flesh with a pen, but I stay silent.
“Crazy fucking Sokolovs.” Vlad laughs. “But you wasted your time. Microchipping women is not in the bylaws. Marriage is all that counts. She is free for anyone with a Yellow Card.”
Bile bubbles up to my tongue.
Vlad’s gaze slides to me. A slow, greedy assessment. “Don’t worry, little girl. I will treat you well for as long as you last.”
Ice shoots through me. My mind flashes to Gustav’s warning in the woods: Humiliate. Defile. Until death.
Was that truth or manipulation?
“As long as I last?” I whisper.
He chuckles darkly. “A woman can only take so much cock.”
Now, with Vlad’s evil words out there, I know Gustav wasn’t giving a warning. It was a promise.
Gustav’s body tenses. I feel the moment everything changes because I’m drawn to him fast.
Gustav must sense it too and reaches for me without looking, guiding me behind him. The motion is subtle but protective. Only a foolish woman would find comfort being near him. But I do. At least in this moment.
“Here is my offer,” Gustav says, voice controlled. “I give you one life, four tons of C4, and two containers of ammo.”
Vlad’s smile returns, wider. “I do not want another life or weapons. I want her. I prefer my last life to be a pretty one.”
I frown.
He turns to his men. “She will make a fine plaything for us. I am sure she screams sexy.”
Gustav’s posture changes in an instant. His breath stills. His hand steadies. Something inside him snaps so violently I feel the echo vibrate in the floor.
“No,” Gustav says.
Vlad lifts a brow. “No?”
Gustav lifts his rifle.
He— pulls the trigger.
The shot cracks through the room with shattering force. Vlad drops instantly, a lifeless thud hitting the stone floor. Blood fans beneath his head in a crimson bloom.
The other three reach for their guns, but Gustav’s guards are already moving. Shots explode in rapid succession. Bodies fall. The room fills with smoke and silence, the metallic taste of gunfire hanging in the air like iron dust.
When the final body hits the ground, the stillness is suffocating.
Gustav turns to face me. His voice is quiet, almost intimate in the echoing room.
“I keep my promises. I will always protect you, Peighton.”
My breath stutters. Because I realize something deadly. Something terrifying.
He risked his life for me. He broke council law for me. He just executed a rival boss for me.
And now the Council will come for him.
He steps closer, lowering his rifle. His voice softens with the weight of a decision already made.
“We’ll marry tomorrow so nobody else can claim you. I don’t track every card or obscure law. I won’t risk it.”
“But the Blood Masons, my family won’t have time to change their flights and—”
“You have a new family that will be there.”
I shiver. Because the real problem is not the wedding. Not the ring. Not even that my family won’t attend.
It’s that I am mad.
My father handed me over to a stranger without hesitation. Yet Gustav didn’t hand me to anyone.
I’m standing in a room full of dead men, realizing the man I am promised to sacrificed himself.
And he did it for me.
I like it.
No.
I love it.