Page 14 of His Forced Bride

"Your showrooms, your warehouses, your employees, your brand name. All of it will be gone within a week."

"You can't just take my business."

"I don't need to take it." He turns back to me, his dark eyes reflecting the city lights.

"Your competitors will do that for me. Without protection, without backing, you're nothing but a target."

I know he's right.

Fashion is a brutal industry even for those with power behind them.

For a young woman alone, it's a death sentence.

The vultures are probably already gathering, ready to pick apart my contracts and steal my designs.

"You have three days." Yuri's eyes darken to an inky color that threatens to consume me.

He's a terrifying man, and when he wants something—just like my father and every other man in this business—he takes it. "We'll marry on Thursday."

"I need more time?—"

"Time is what you don't have."

He nods to his men, and they move toward the door.

"Thursday, or you can explain to your employees why they're all unemployed."

He's almost to the door when I find my voice again.

"Why? Why would you want to marry someone who hates you?"

He pauses in my doorway, and for a moment, his expression shifts, revealing something I can't quite read.

"Love isn't necessary in business."

When he turns, I pick up a pen from my table and launch it in that direction, but it falls short as he steps out the door.

"I'd rather die than marry you!" I screech, but the door closes behind them, leaving me alone in my apartment.

The smell of cigarette smoke lingers in the air, foreign and invasive in my carefully controlled space.

I sink back into my chair and stare at the legal documents scattered across my table.

Three days.

I pick up my phone with trembling hands and dial Alina's number.

She answers on the second ring, her voice thick with sleep.

"Inessa? What time is it? When did you get home? I'm sorry they wouldn't let me stay and wait for you."

"He was here." The words tumble out before I can stop them.

"Yuri Gravitch was here. In my apartment."

"What?" I hear rustling as she sits up in bed. "What did he want?"

"He wants to marry me. In three days."