Page 128 of His Forced Bride

Her eyes open, tears clinging to her lashes, but she meets my gaze without turning away.

She grips my back with both arms and pulls me down.

I don’t move from her, keeping us joined, refusing to give her even an inch of distance.

We lie tangled together in the dark, her head resting on my chest while I catch my breath.

Her breathing has finally steadied, the last tremors of grief and passion fading into exhaustion.

"What happens to her?" she asks quietly.

"Viktoria? She disappears—permanently."

"Will it hurt?"

I consider the question, weighing honesty against mercy. "Yes."

"Good."

The word emerges without hesitation, and it surprises me.

My innocent bride has learned to embrace necessity.

She's quiet for several minutes, then, "I keep waiting to feel guilty about wanting her dead. But I don't."

"Guilt is a luxury you can't afford. She forfeited your mercy when she chose to hunt you."

"Is that what you tell yourself? When you have people killed?"

"I tell myself that some threats can only be eliminated, never negotiated with. Your mother falls into that category."

Inessa nods against my chest, accepting this reality with the pragmatism I've come to respect in her.

The woman who entered this marriage as a victim has evolved into something harder, more dangerous.

A partner worthy of the name Gravitch.

"I meant what I said earlier," she whispers.

"About trusting you."

I pull her closer, sealing this moment in memory.

"Then we understand each other."

"Yes. We do."

And as she falls asleep in my arms, I realize I've crossed a line I swore I'd never approach again.

Somewhere between protecting my asset and claiming my wife, I've fallen completely in love with the woman who could destroy me.

The irony isn't lost on me.

I married her to secure an alliance, but she's become my greatest weakness.

And if my enemies find out, they won't need women like Viktoria Mirova to encourage them to attack.

But this time, I'll be ready.