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I slam the door behind me and press my back against it.
My heart is pounding from the argument I just finished with one of Dimitri’s guards.
He tried to block me from walking the main corridor, babbling about “orders” and “security.” Every time I attempt to move freely in this mansion, someone reminds me that my life apparently hangs in the balance.
I’m tired of it, but I know complaining to Dimitri yields little.
He just doubles down on his protective stance, claiming this is for my own good.
I drop onto the edge of my bed, gripping the mattress so tightly that my knuckles ache. The guard’s voice still echoes in my head. He was only doing what Dimitri told him, but that doesn’t alleviate my frustration. This place is a fortress, and I feel like a prized captive.
Ever since Father’s men made an attempt on my life—and nearly succeeded—Dimitri turned this estate into a lockdown facility.
I get it. He’s worried about spies and traitors.
The fiasco with Leon proved that any of his men could be compromised.
But he’s cranked his paranoia up to a level I can barely tolerate.
I stare at the walls, hating how every square inch of this building reminds me I’m stuck here. My father wanted to keep me under his thumb for years, and I managed to slip away only to end up in another form of captivity. The Barkov name keeps me physically safe, but it also boxes me in.
A knock rattles the door. My shoulders tense. Another guard? Possibly Dmitri himself? I groan, force myself to my feet, and open the door to see Watley standing there, completely unmoved by glaring.
“Dimitri wants to see you in his study,” the man says with a neutral tone. “Now.”
“Fine.”
He steps aside to allow me to pass. I set a brisk pace, ignoring every guard I pass. If I’m going to be summoned like this, I won’t act meek about it. Watley follows me as I move through a stretch of hallway that leads to a wide staircase.
Maybe Dimitri learned something about my father’s next move. Maybe he wants to scold me again for harassing his guards. Maybe he’s just bored and feels like reminding me that he holds the power here. Whatever the reason, I’m in no mood to listen to more condescension.
The butler gestures for me to enter a closed door on the right. Dimitri is standing behind his desk, and his grey eyes narrow on me the instant I walk in. Watley closes the door, leaving us alone.
“You wanted me?” I say, letting my voice carry as much defiance as I can muster.
He nods at the single chair facing the desk. “Sit.”
“I’m fine standing.”
He arches a brow, and for a moment, we lock eyes.
I see a flicker of impatience, but he doesn’t push the chair issue.
Instead, he leans forward and rests his palms on the desk.
“I have an announcement to make regarding your situation.” He pauses, studying me, and I sense I’m not about to like whatever it is he’s about to say.
“I’ve decided on a course of action that will ensure your safety from Thorne. ”
I roll my eyes. “Are you doubling the guard count again? Locking me in my room? Maybe chaining me to a radiator?”
He keeps his expression set in stone. “No. This is more permanent.” He straightens, adjusting the collar of his shirt, then takes a measured breath. “We’re getting married, Cecily.”
For several seconds, I’m sure I didn’t hear him correctly. The phrase can’t possibly mean what it implies. I blink, stunned. “You’re…what?”
He exhales like he’s bracing for my reaction. “You and I will formalize our union. Once you’re a Barkov in name, your father loses his last leverage. If he tries anything, he’d risk war with my family.”
I let out a short, humorless laugh. “Married?” The word feels ridiculous on my tongue. “You think I’m going to marry you? Are you out of your mind?”
“It’s the most logical move to protect you. Thorne won’t dare abduct the wife of a Barkov. He knows we’d bring the full force of our network against him.”
Rage starts to bloom in my chest. “You can’t be serious. Marriage? That’s your big plan?”
His tone remains calm, as if he’s reciting from a prepared script. “Yes. I’ve talked about this with my brothers. It’s the only real solution.”
I take a step back, shaking my head. “You can’t do this. You can’t just decide I’m going to be your wife. That’s insane.” A wave of revulsion and shock surges, twisting my stomach. “I’d rather let my father grab me than marry you.”
“If Thorne grabs you, he wins. He’ll drag you off to wherever he’s hiding and use you as a bargaining chip. You’ll never be free.”
“Better a pawn than shackled to you for life.” The words taste bitter. My mind scrambles for a retort that fully conveys the depth of my fury, but I’m too overwhelmed to be clever.
“I’m not seeking your permission. The marriage is happening.”
“You can’t force me! I’m not some item you can pass around.”
“This isn’t up for debate,” he declares, as he leans forward again. “We’ve tried keeping you safe with extra patrols and locked doors. Thorne’s men keep probing our defenses. Next time, they could succeed, and you’d end up back in Thorne’s control.”
I throw my arms in the air. “So your solution is to treat me exactly like he did? Another cage, another man deciding my future without asking my opinion?” I let out a harsh laugh. “You’re unbelievable.”
He doesn’t move, but the tension rolling off him feels stifling. “You claim to hate living like a prisoner. I’m offering you a different status. As my wife, you’ll have much more freedom than you do now.”
I grip the back of the chair to stop my hands from shaking. “You want to brand me with your last name so you can patrol me just like you do now. I’ll still have guards on me every second. I’ll still have no freedom.”
He shakes his head. “It’s not about controlling you. It’s about making Thorne back off. I’m offering you protection, not a prison sentence.”
“That’s exactly what a prison sentence is. You telling me what to do, who to be, and how to live.” I can’t stop the words from tumbling out. “You’re as bad as my father.”
He flinches as if I’ve slapped him, opening and closing his mouth a few times before he finally says, “Don’t compare me to him. I’m not beating you. I’m not trading you for money or influence. I’m saving your life.”
I slam my hands on the desk, leaning in. “Don’t twist this. I never asked for your rescue in the first place. You act like you’re doing me a favor, but it’s just another form of control.”
“It’s not optional. The wedding will take place. I’m not here to negotiate terms. This is decided.” He steps around the desk, closing the distance between us. My pulse spikes, but I hold my ground. “You’re welcome to protest. But the ceremony will happen. One way or another.”
I let out a trembling breath, seething. “Then I’ll protest every day for the rest of my life. I’ll never be a willing participant in your plan.”
He pauses, as though weighing his next words. “Once we’re married, I’ll allow you to see Seraphina.”
My rage falters for a split second, and my heart lurches in my chest. “What?”
He speaks more quietly, though his voice retains that firm edge. “I know you want to see your sister. You haven’t been allowed to yet for security reasons. If you become my wife, I’ll arrange a visit.”
A wave of emotion nearly knocks me sideways. I haven’t seen Seraphina since my father took me hostage. We’ve had a few phone calls since I got here, but that’s it. I ache to be with her, to know she’s okay. The longing grips me, but so does my anger at Dimitri for using it as leverage.
“You’re dangling Seraphina in front of me. That’s low, even for you.”
“If you’re part of this family, visiting your sister is less risky. We won’t compromise her or you by reuniting you too soon. Once we’re married, that changes.”
“That changes, because you’ll have me on a leash like a show dog.” I can’t keep the bitterness from seeping into every syllable.
He lowers his head for a moment, then looks at me with steely resolve. “It’s the only concession I’m making. Either accept the marriage or continue living in limbo. You can rail against me all you want, but this decision is final.”
I turn away and pace a few steps to burn off the fury simmering beneath my skin.
My thoughts race back and forth. Part of me wants to scream that I’d rather risk everything than marry him.
Another part remembers that phone call with Seraphina and how desperate she sounded to ensure my safety.
A new wave of guilt washes over me. If marrying Dimitri means I can see my sister, maybe she’d want me to go through with it.
But then I picture myself in a wedding dress, forced to vow loyalty to a man I barely trust. The thought makes my stomach churn.
Dimitri remains silent while I wrestle with my emotions. Finally, I turn, my voice low. “What if I run before the wedding? Do you think you can stop me?”
His reply is immediate. “You won’t make it off the property. My men will watch every exit, every door, every path. Even if you slip out, Thorne’s men wait beyond the gates. You’d be trapped between us.”
“So I’m cornered, is that it? You’ve removed every possible choice from my life.”
“I know it feels that way. But at least I’m keeping you alive. If Thorne gets you, do you honestly believe he’d let you stay free? Or see your sister again? He’d hide you away for his own ends, and nobody would find you.”
A cold shiver trickles down my spine. My father is capable of horrors I don’t want to imagine. I hate Dimitri for being right. “This is still wrong.”
“I won’t pretend it’s ideal.” He presses a hand over his face for a moment, then drops it. “I’m protecting you the only way I know how. Fight it all you want, but you’ll see it’s necessary.”
“I hope you enjoy living with someone who despises you, because that’s what you’re signing up for.”
He steps closer, ignoring my attempt to maintain distance. “Hate me if you have to, as long as it keeps you alive.”
I glare up at him. He’s so certain, so unyielding, and it ignites every rebellious bone in my body. My voice drops to a low hiss. “Then enjoy your forced marriage, because I won’t smile for you. I won’t share your bed willingly, and I won’t be the docile bride you imagine.”
“As if I could ever imagine you a docile,” he replies with a low chuckle. “I’ll let you calm down. Tomorrow, we finalize the details. Be ready.”
I swallow the acidic reply clawing at my throat. He slips out, leaving the door open behind him, as if to taunt me with the knowledge that I can’t escape.
I stand there with my heart pounding and tears of rage burning at the corners of my eyes.
The gall of him, ordering me to marry him as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.
Maybe in the twisted Bratva realm it is, but to me, it’s just another prison.
Another noose around my neck. My father forced Seraphina into a marriage for his gain, and now Dimitri is using me as a pawn in his war with my father.
I can’t breathe for the fury choking me.
A snarl rips from my lips as I sweep my arm across the desk, sending papers tumbling to the floor. An inkwell topples, and liquid splatters across the polished surface. The entire act does little to soothe my anger, but I relish the momentary release, the small show of defiance.
I step around the mess, ignoring the scattered papers. Dimitri claimed he was not like my father, but at least my father never pretended it was for my protection. He never spouted lines about caring for my well-being. He just took what he wanted.
Dimitri’s brand of tyranny is different. He frames it as saving my life, and maybe he’s not wrong that my father is a bigger threat. But at least with him, I know the enemy I face. Here, I’m wrestling with a complicated mixture of safety and oppression. He’s saving me, while also binding me.
I force myself to breathe deeply and count to ten.
Once my shaking subsides, I think about Seraphina.
My sister is out there in a safehouse, possibly as frustrated as I am, though in a different way.
If marrying Dimitri means I can finally see her, hold her, and be certain she’s truly alright, how can I outright reject that possibility?
And yet, how can I accept a forced marriage under these circumstances?
Conflicting emotions battle in my mind. I feel tears threatening again, but I blink them away.
I’ll never let Dimitri see me cry over this.
I won’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he’s pushed me into a corner.
I remember the vow I made to myself the day he brought me here: I’d fight for my freedom, no matter how impossible the odds.
If he wants a war of wills, I’ll give him one. I may not have an army, but I have my own resilience. I’ll bide my time, seeking any opportunity to slip away or sabotage his plans from the inside. Let him boast that making me his wife solves all his problems. I’ll prove him wrong.
I close my eyes for a second, breathing through the onslaught of emotions. Tomorrow, everything shifts. Tomorrow, Dimitri will expect me to yield. I won’t. He might drag me into some twisted ceremony, but I’ll be plotting every second. That’s my promise to myself.
I open my eyes, feeling steadier than before. If a marriage is inevitable, I’ll turn it into a battlefield. He’ll see just how resilient I am, how impossible it is to tame me. Father tried. Father failed.
Dimitri will fail, too.