Page 14

“I see,” the judge says blandly, looking at me, pointing to the desk in front of me. “You may sign the document in front of you, Miss Zorin, and then we can proceed.”

“I am not…” Ruslan’s hand grips the top of my arm with a warning squeeze.

“This will be a lot less painful for you if you just shut your mouth and do as you're told,” Ruslan growls in my ear. His tone of voice brooking no argument, and it instantly sparks the burning embers of anger I’ve been trying to keep in check.

I bite my tongue and glance at the document, absently reaching for the pen in front of me with a shaking hand. My fingers curl around it like it might bite as I stare at the page with my Russian birth name glaring up at me—Lidiya Zorin. A name stolen from fire and secrets and bloodlines I didn’t even know existed until ten months ago. A name that opened a world that has been chasing me my entire life, and has now started to swallow me whole.

While the name Lidiya Zorin still means nothing to me as I don’t know who she is, I don’t know who Tara Craft is anymore, either. For the past ten months, that woman has slowly started to fade away into a past built on lies and deception.

“Tara…” Ruslan’s angry hiss yanks me from my thoughts and back to the ugly reality of the contract waiting for my signature.

“And how would you like me to sign the document?” My brow rises as I look at him challengingly. “As I am not Lidiya Zorin and to be dead honest, I’m not Tara Craft either anymore… so…” I lean forward and mark a big X on the page and give him a smug smile. “I thought that was better than Test Subject number eleven.”

“You are trying my patience, Tara,” Ruslan growls. “Now sign it properly or you will regret this little rebellion you’re trying to stage here.”

“Is there a problem, Mr. Dragunov?” the judge asks.

“No, your honor,” Ruslan tells him. “Just a little bit of wedding jitters.”

“If we could hurry this along?” the judge says.

Ruslan nods and leans in, his voice low. “I’m warning you, Tara, stop fucking around.” Ruslan’s eyes bore into mine and a sadistic smile lifts his mouth. “Or are you trying to add to your punishment?” His eyes rake me suggestively. “Is that your thing, Tara? You into punishment?”

“No, but you seem to be,” I counter, and before he can say more, I scribble a squiggle that could be an L and the name Zorin. “There!” I slam the pen on the desk.

“All signed, your honor,” Ruslan tells the judge.

“Then we can proceed with the vows.” The judge indicates for us to step closer to the bench.

Ruslan steps beside me, his hand pressing firmly on my lower back again. This time, I can’t move away.

The judge doesn’t wait. “Do you, Ruslan Dragunov, consent to enter into lawful marriage with Lidiya Zorin?”

“I do,” he says instantly, voice cold and sure.

No hesitation. Not even a blink.

The judge turns his attention to me. “Do you, Lidiya, consent to enter into lawful marriage with Ruslan Dragunov?”

I stare straight at him, my voice caught in my throat. Every fiber of me screams no.

Ruslan’s hand closes over mine beneath the table, fingers iron-tight. His nails press into my skin.

“Say it,” he hisses, his lips at my ear.

I force my jaw to unlock. “Sure.” Are the words that push through my lips, and I feel Ruslan stiffen beside me.

The judge nods, signs the bottom of the form, and stamps it.

“This marriage is now recognized under Russian law. You are husband and wife.” He nods. “Congratulations.”

Just like that, I’m married!

6

TARA

The marble hallway outside the courtroom is too quiet. Every step I take echoes against its walls like a gunshot. I haven’t said a word since the judge pronounced us husband and wife. I have nothing to say. Even if I did, it wouldn’t be heard, so why waste my breath?