Page 72 of Blood Oath Christmas
"I can't do that," I whisper, the words coming out before I can stop them.
"Think about it, Ivy. This is your chance to get your life back. To be free of all this violence and danger."
But as she speaks, I realize something that hits me like a lightning bolt. I don't want to be free of Konstantin. Despite everything—the danger, the violence, the complicated circumstances that brought us together—I love him. The realization is both terrifying and liberating.
I can't betray someone I love. I won't.
"You're asking me to destroy my husband," I say quietly.
Agent Cole's eyes flash with something that might be disappointment or frustration. "He's not really your husband, Ivy. Not in any way that matters. This whole marriage is just another form of control."
Her words sting because there's truth in them, but there's also something she doesn't understand. What started as control has become something real, at least for me. And I'm beginning to hope it's real for Konstantin too.
"I need to go," Agent Cole says suddenly, her head snapping toward the door. "But think about what I've said. You have my card now." She slides a business card onto the nightstand. "Call me when you're ready to do the right thing."
She moves toward the window with practiced stealth, and I watch in amazement as she slips out the same way she came in. The room falls silent except for the sound of my racing heart.
I stare at the business card on the nightstand, my mind reeling. Agent Cole wants me to spy on Konstantin, to gather evidence against him. But how can I betray the man I've fallen in love with? The man who's shown me passion and protection in equal measure?
A few minutes pass in tense silence before I hear footsteps in the hallway. The door opens, and Konstantin appears.
"Who were you talking to?" he asks, his voice low and dangerous.
38
KONSTANTIN
Aweek has passed since the party, and the silence is deafening. I pace the length of my office, phone pressed to my ear as Viktor updates me on our surveillance of Vadim's operations.
"Nothing,Pakhan," Viktor's gravelly voice confirms what I already suspected. "No movement from the Antonovs. No chatter from our sources. It's too quiet."
I end the call and stare out the window at the snow-covered grounds. Vadim Antonov isn't the type to go quietly into the night, especially with the court date looming next week. He's planning something. I can feel it in my bones like an old wound before a storm.
The soft knock on my door interrupts my brooding. "Come in."
Ivy enters, and despite my dark thoughts, my body responds immediately to her presence. She's wearing a cream-colored sweater that hugs her curves and dark jeans that make her legs look endless. Her blonde hair falls in soft waves over her shoulders, and those blue eyes that have haunted my dreams meet mine with determination.
"We need to talk," she says, closing the door behind her.
I lean against my desk, crossing my arms. "About?"
"This." She gestures around the room, then at herself. "I can't live like this anymore, Konstantin. Just sitting around the estate with nothing to do. I'm going stir-crazy."
Her frustration is palpable, and I understand it. She's used to working, studying, being productive. But understanding doesn't change the reality of our situation.
"What exactly are you asking for?" I keep my voice neutral, though watching her pace in front of me is doing things to my concentration.
"I want to get back to my studies. I want to finish my degree." She stops pacing and faces me directly. "I want to work. I want to feel useful again."
The passion in her voice stirs something in my chest. This woman—my wife—isn't content to be a pampered princess locked away in a tower. She has fire, ambition, dreams beyond just surviving.
"Until Vadim is behind bars or dead, you're not safe," I tell her honestly. "But your studies…" I consider this. "You can resume your online courses. As long as you do it from here, on the estate."
Her face lights up, and the smile she gives me is worth every security headache this will cause. "Really?"
"Really." I push off from the desk, moving closer to her. "I'll have Denis set up a proper study space for you. Whatever you need."
"Thank you." She doesn't move away when I stop just inches from her, and I can smell her subtle perfume, see the flecks of darker blue in her eyes.
