Page 49 of Blood Oath Christmas
"Konstantin, you can't be serious. Once Vadim is caught, once this is all over?—"
"It will never be over." The words come out harsher than I intend, but they're the truth. "You're a Mafia wife now, Ivy. There's no turning back from that. No annulment, no divorce, no walking away. You belong to me now, and I belong to you."
The color drains from her face. "Belong to you? Like property?"
"Like family." I lean forward, needing her to understand. "In my world, family is everything. It's the only thing that matters. And you're my family now."
She shakes her head, dark hair spilling over her shoulders. "This isn't what I agreed to."
"You agreed to marry me. Everything else comes with the territory."
Before she can respond, my phone buzzes on the nightstand. I glance at the screen and see Maksim's name. I consider ignoring it, but calls this late usually mean trouble.
"I have to take this," I tell her, swiping to answer. "What is it?"
"Boss, we have a problem." Maksim's voice is tight with controlled anger. "Someone intercepted the shipment from the docks. Took the whole truck."
My blood turns to ice. "Who?"
"Dmitri Kozlov."
The Kozlov family. They've been testing our boundaries for months, seeing how far they can push before we push back. Apparently, they've decided to find out.
"Where is he now?"
"We have him. Viktor's holding him at the warehouse."
I close my eyes, feeling the familiar weight of leadership settle on my shoulders. This is what it means to be the head of a family. Every challenge must be met with swift, decisive action. Every slight must be answered.
"Don't kill him," I say, my voice deadly calm. "Cut off his hand. Let that be a message to anyone else thinking about taking what belongs to me."
"Understood."
I end the call and find Ivy staring at me with wide, horrified eyes. She heard every word.
"You just ordered someone to be mutilated," she whispers.
"I ordered a message to be sent." I set the phone aside and turn to face her fully. "This is my world, Ivy. This is what it means to be married to me. There will always be enemies, always be threats. And I will always do whatever it takes to protect what's mine."
"Including me?"
"Especially you."
She's quiet for a long moment, processing. I can see the wheels turning in her mind, the reality of her situation finally sinking in. When she speaks again, her voice is small.
"What have I done?"
The pain in her voice cuts deep, but I push it aside. She'll understand eventually. She'll see that this life, this protection, is better than anything she could have had before.
"You survived," I tell her. "That's what you've done."
I slip out of bed and pull on my clothes. There's work to be done, and the night is far from over.
"Where are you going?" she asks.
"To handle business. Get some sleep. We'll talk more in the morning."
But I know she won't sleep. I can feel her eyes on me as I leave the room, can sense the turmoil radiating from her. Part of me wants to go back, to hold her until the fear leaves her eyes. But that's not who I am. I'm the head of the Mikhailov family, and I have responsibilities that go beyond one woman's comfort.
