Page 10 of Brutal Monster
"Everyone has expectations, Inez. Even if it's only the expectation of disappointment."
Her eyes flash up to mine, startled by the insight. "And what do you expect?"
"Challenge. Frustration. Moments of surprising alignment." I hold her gaze. "Growth."
"Not love?" The question is meant to be mocking, but it lands with unexpected weight between us.
"Love is not a business transaction. It can't be negotiated or contracted." I keep my voice neutral, though something shifts in my chest. "But respect can become admiration. Admiration can become affection. Beyond that..." I shrug. "We'll see."
The music draws to a close. I release Inez, stepping back with a slight bow that would make my Russian grandmother proud. Old world manners in a new world arrangement.
"Sign the contract, Inez," I say quietly. "Not because you have to, but because you're curious. Because part of you wonders if there might be power in partnership rather than isolation."
She retrieves the document from the table, studying it one more time. "You realize this makes no sense from a business perspective. You're giving up too much."
"Only if you measure value solely in territorial control and immediate profit." I watch as she removes a pen from her clutch. "Some investments take time to mature."
Her signature is swift and decisive, a flowing script that stands in stark contrast to my own angular scrawl. She caps the pen, meets my eyes.
"Don't make me regret this, Vanya."
It's the first time she's said my name without it sounding like a challenge or an accusation. Progress, however small.
"I won't," I promise. "And when you realize I mean exactly what I say—that I want a partner, not a possession—I hope you'll consider offering more than what's written in those pages."
"Don't push your luck." But there's less edge to her words now, a hint of something that might, with time, become trust.
I take her hand, pressing my lips to her knuckles in a gesture that's both archaic and intimate. "Luck has nothing to do with it, future wife. This is pure strategy."
Her laugh follows me as I step away to arrange for the contract's proper filing. It's a sound I find myself wanting to hear again—unguarded, genuine. A first crack in formidable armor.
The game has just begun, but already the rules are changing.
For both of us.
CHAPTER FOUR
INEZ
The key slides into the lock of my childhood home, the click faintly audible over the security guard's breathing behind me. I dismiss him with a wave of my hand. This is family business.
Papá's room smells of medicine and stale cigars—an odd combination that somehow fits him perfectly. The monitors beside his bed blink with reassuring regularity, though the man they're monitoring looks smaller than he did a month ago. His skin has taken on the yellowish tinge of liver failure, stretched too tight across the bones of his face.
“Mi hija.”His voice is still strong, even as his body fails him. "You've signed the contract."
Not a question. Of course, my father knows already.
"Your spies are efficient as ever." I move to his bedside, pressing a kiss to his papery cheek. "Even from here, you miss nothing."
He takes my hand, his grip surprisingly firm. "Sit. Tell me why you look like you're marching to your execution rather than your wedding."
I sink into the chair beside his bed, kicking off my heels. Only here, in this room, do I allow myself the luxury of visibleexhaustion. "I signed a piece of paper, Papá. That doesn't mean I'll go through with the ceremony."
His eyes narrow. "The alliance with the Zhukov organization?—"
"—is beneficial. I know." I rub at the tension headache forming behind my eyes. "Their distribution networks, their political connections in Eastern Europe, their army of soldiers. I've heard it all before."
"Then why hesitate?"
