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Anger flares sharp and hot. “So, my whole life, everything from now on, is because you chose it?”

“Yes.” His voice is flat. Certain. “Your brother breathes because of me. You eat at this table because of me. And soon, you’ll carry my child because of me.” He says the last part with a twinkle in his eye and cocky raise of the eyebrows.

The words ripple through me, heavy as stone. They should repulse me. They should make me run. Instead, heat coils low in my stomach, which just makes me angrier.

I push my plate away, appetite gone. “You talk like it’s all already decided.”

“It is.”

The silence that follows stretches long. The pool glows blue outside the glass, catching in the diamond on my hand. The ring feels heavier every time I look at it.

Finally, I manage, “I agreed because of Mateo. Don’t mistake this for anything else.”

He leans forward, elbows braced on the table either side of his plate, gaze locked on mine. “You’ll tell yourself that. You’ll cling to it. But by the end of tonight you’ll be begging me to put you out of your misery.”

Heat crawls up my throat. I want to argue. I want to throw his words back in his face. But I can’t, because he’s right. Gratitude for helping Mateo has already crept in and God only knows my body responds to him before I have the chance to tell it not to.

His mouth curves faintly, not a smile but something sharper. He knows.

When I don’t respond, he rises, towering over me. His presence fills the room until I can barely breathe.

I stand, legs unsteady, and he walks me down the hallway. At the bedroom door, he stops, letting me enter first. He doesn’t follow.

The restraint rattles me more than if he had.

“Get changed,” he says as my eyes land on the cotton nightdress on the edge of the bed. It wasn’t there earlier. I wonder who put it there, and why.

The mirror catches my reflection: pale face, hollow eyes, ring glinting on my finger. I whisper the lie again.I’m only here for Mateo.But it feels thinner this time.

He watches me undress before I change into the cotton nightdress laid out for me, my size, as if he already knew.

“Lie down on the bed,” he commands. I look at him, trying to gauge what he will say next. What he will do. Only his molten stare isn’t giving anything away.

I do as I’m told and sit on the edge of the bed before lifting my legs up and crossing them at the ankles. He grins, but doesn’t come any closer. Instead, he stands there, unbuttoning his shirt revealing a body covered in dark tattoos and scarred skin. And I know that this will be the moment that I can’t undo. Can’t take back. This is the moment that I truly become this man’s wife. This man I know nothing about, other than he is responsible for saving Mateo’s life.

I try to swallow away the dryness in my mouth as I tell myself one more time thatI’m only here for Mateo.

But I don’t believe it anymore.

Then he unbuckles his belt.

Aleksei

The nightdress clings to her curves, thin cotton that barely disguises the tremor in her body. She lies back on my bed as though every nerve is taut with fear, with anticipation. Good. Fear and desire are twins. Both sharpen a woman until she is nothing but truth.

I shrug out of my shirt, letting it fall to the floor. Her eyes flicker to the scars across my ribs, the ink twining over muscle, but she doesn’t look away. She’s stronger than she knows.

“Spread your legs.”

Her breath hitches, but she obeys, parting slowly, hesitantly, the nightdress riding up to bare pale thighs.

My cock hardens at the sight; the discipline I’ve clung to all day fraying with every heartbeat.

“Look at me,” I command.

Her lashes lift, her gaze tangling with mine. Wide, dark, uncertain, but burning.

I step closer, one knee pressing into the mattress, then the other. The bed dips under my weight, and she makes a sound, soft, caught between fear and hunger, that nearly undoes me.