Page 4

I was screwed. Completely and undeniably screwed.

Not only was I stuck in a Novikov hold, but I was also entirely correct in my previous assumption that they would act fast. And that they’d be pissed about what happened.

All alone and with nobody else to lean on for backup, I could barely hear over the pounding of my pulse in my ears.

Being captured by Novikovs—the very family that was buddy-buddy with Levovs—was the worst imaginable position I could be in. Out of any potential worst-case scenarios, I found myself in the greatest of all.

Despite my internal panic, my anger still burned hot.

Someone in my ranks deceived me. They fumbled everything with their rogue plans and landed me in this position.

The audacity of that move made me wish I could strangle whoever was responsible. It would be more than satisfying to get back at the traitor, but at the moment, I needed to defuse the situation.

While I was angry, I was still at the Novikov’s man’s mercy. It was like raging in front of a bear—he was bound to lash out eventually and strike me far harder than I could ever hope to. Especially with my arms bound and cuffed to a chair.

Even if I was in the worst place possible and had no way to defend myself, no way to reach Gabriel or anyone else, I had to think of something. Anything.

I was new to the gritty underworld of New York, but I was certainly well acquainted with the shifty dealings and meddling that often happened. How a good, well-thought-out scheme could maim just as well as a pistol.

I didn’t have time to craft something bulletproof, but I had to think. I had to save my skin, regardless of what it took.

After a moment of consideration and mentally grasping at straws, I looked up at him. “What’s your name?”

My captor looked vaguely confused by the question, likely not used to being asked anything while interrogating people. “Why do you need to know?”

“If you’re going to dole out some kind of punishment, then I’d at least like to know who’s acting as my judge.”

With some reluctance, he huffed out a quiet breath and crossed his muscled arms over his chest. “Daniil Novikov.”

He was one of the Novikovs running the show, not a distant relative or someone working for the family. He was one of them.

Still feeling like some kind of prey animal grasping at some kind of escape, I held his gaze as bravely as I could. An idea poked at the back of my mind, and while it felt incredibly stupid at first, it also seemed like my best chance.

My throat went dry while I took in his roguishly handsome features. Those brown eyes, so dark they almost looked black, nearly seared into me while he never looked away from mine, and a strand of brown hair fell across his strong face. Voicing the words I wanted to say felt even harder to muster looking at him.

“I can tell you’re keen to make me pay for what happened, but what if we can reach some sort of agreement?”

His brows furrowed slightly, but regardless of his hesitance, he looked vaguely interested in what I had to say. “I doubt it, but what kind of agreement?”

I swallowed back the desert in my mouth and schooled my expression. “A marriage pact. An alliance.”

Daniil narrowed his eyes at me, looking equal parts dumbfounded and annoyed at me for even suggesting it. “An alliance? What makes you think we’d even want that with the likes of you?”

Like walking on a tightrope, I pushed forward regardless of how I stumbled in my mind. "Such an agreement can be beneficial for both sides, no?"

For a moment, the irritation lingering in his gaze had me under the assumption he was about to call me out for making such a stupid suggestion, that I had offended him for a completely different reason.

"In this case, the scales seem tipped in your favor."

Well aware that he was right, knowing a marriage pact would give me immunity in exchange for someone from my side and didn't necessarily benefit them in any significant way, dread pulsed in my gut. I had to up the ante. He needed more to be convinced.

I pulled in a breath and schooled my features. "I have several bright, young cousins, but as an act of good faith, I'll volunteer myself in their stead."

The words surprised even me when they came out of my mouth, but Daniil's shock was far greater than I expected. His eyes widened fractionally while he tried to grasp my terms.

It was a last-ditch effort, and I knew that…but it was all I had.

The money owed for what was stolen would never be enough, since it wasn't about the money at all; that was inconsequential to the Levovs and Novikovs. It was the offense. The gall that someone would attempt to steal from them in the first place.

And because I was the face of the organization, I had to work even harder to make those amends. I had to do something I didn't want to, all for the sake of the business.

As the head, it was my responsibility, even if it meant giving something I preferred to keep.

At the very least, that union would be the insurance I needed. It would be a way to mend that bridge and improve my standing with New York's most prominent crime families. I could still lead my legacy even if my name changed legally.

Daniil lifted a brow at me, not discreet at all about the way he took me in, or the interest filling his eyes. "You're willing to be the sacrificial lamb, hm? All to save what you've worked towards in the last few months…"

Urging myself not to look away, not to cower under his gaze, I let go of a decided breath. "Yes. By volunteering myself, I'm proving that I never had any intention of working against your family. Quite the opposite. Even if it means giving up my freedom."

It really was the last thing I wanted to do. I didn't want to concede to the Novikovs to that degree, but they had me backed into a corner. While being in their debt and also not knowing who gave the order behind my back, my options were limited.

Even if I tried to propose paying them back, I knew they'd only continue to take until I didn't have anything left. They'd never be satisfied, and I'd find myself at their mercy forever.

Daniil's gaze shifted several times while he seemed to consider my words, narrowing his eyes again before pulling back with his arms over his chest. "You've got guts, I'll give you that. Not many leaders would put themselves on the chopping block."

"Then I guess I'm not like other leaders."

A hint of amusement cracked across his face then, and he absently stroked his chin. Those dark eyes seemed to hold me captive, making my pulse thrum again. "I guess so..."

I couldn't tell if he was just toying with me by stalling, or if he was truly still mulling it over, but the wait had my stomach tied up in knots either way. Finally, I let go of a breath again. "Do we have a deal?"

"I hope you know what you're getting yourself into," Daniil began, words edged with warning when he leaned in again. Even while speaking to me with relative calmness and consideration, his true nature was still hidden somewhere beneath that false niceness. "Proposing a marriage pact isn't something you can simply undo. If an agreement is made, you will be held to it. There's no backing out, regardless of what happens, or how you're treated."

What that implied didn't sit well with me, but neither did the thought of always being Novikov prey. Even if I hated every moment of it, at least I'd still have something of my own. I'd still be a Pesci at heart.

"I know that," I murmured, fully intending to follow through with my end of things. "We can talk terms, but I'd appreciate you uncuffing me."

A faint flicker of amusement moved through his eyes once again as a smirk pulled at his lips. He chuckled to himself. "Nah, I don't think I will. And there's no need to discuss any terms right now."

My brows furrowed at that, assuming any deal was completely off the table. But before I could say anything, Daniil continued.

"I'll meet you halfway, then—we'll skip the deliberation with my family and get right to it. I'll volunteer myself."

My eyes widened at his words, feeling completely thrown off. It was my turn to wear complete shock on my face.

He was the last person I expected to throw himself into the ring like that, especially if he was as cold and cruel as his hard gaze suggested.

Despite his outward hostility, I noticed the faint grin still on his face. He thought my surprise was funny.

I didn't.

"You don't know me very well at all, Pesci, but you will soon," he murmured, reaching forward to give my cheeks an almost condescending squeeze with his hand. "You'll find out soon enough why I'm the one who handles the interrogations; you'll realize how the scales are now tipped in my favor. And I don't intend to be nice about it."

His words were mocking; he was talking down to me because he could, and because that was the point he wanted to get across.

It would be no simple arrangement, and I wasn't going to even have the chance to enjoy it.

Being married to him would be my personal hell, and he was going to make sure of it.

Regardless of the wave of uneasiness that sent through me, I had no other choice.

Either way, I was backed into a corner, and I had to do something.

"My offer still stands."

Even if I was going to have to tolerate being his wife, surely there would be ways to get around the parts I didn't want to deal with. I would have something more than most women in my situation. I could still maintain my role. I would just have to do that while taking someone else's last name.

The situation was less than ideal, but if it meant saving everything I had done, then there was no other choice.