Page 2 of Twisted Proposal

Zaitsev mistook it for patience. A deadly mistake.

He smirked. "I'll get right to the point, then. I know you're making moves in the States."

He thought he knew something. Amusing.

"You shouldn't put stock in rumors," I said flatly. "Your men must be bored if they've taken to gossip."

Zaitsev chuckled, like we were old friends sharing an inside joke. "A shift in power is coming." He stood and circled the woman, placing his hands on her shoulders. She flinched. The small movement ignited something dark inside me. "This is my daughter."

A muscle in my jaw twitched.

Daughter.

I glanced at her, then back at him, my face unreadable.

What kind of man tied up his own flesh and blood?

"I'd rather not have her running wild, like these American women," he continued, oblivious to my growing rage. "She could be useful."

Useful.

The word curdled in my gut.

"She's not much to look at," he added, waving a hand like she was a piece of livestock. “But she'll make a good wife. Quiet. Won't ask questions. Won't expect fidelity." He grinned and winked. "And, of course, this marriage would come with certain advantages."

I stared at him. Silent. Calculating.

One of the few useful lessons my father had ever taught me—silence was a weapon.

Zaitsev, arrogant as ever, mistook it for interest. He kept talking, filling the space with his own noise.

"I wouldn't expect you to marry her, of course," he went on. "She's beneath an Ivanov. But a loyal underling? Someone who needs a reward, perhaps.”

Beneath an Ivanov.

Fucking idiot.

I let my gaze shift back to her.

She sat stiffly in her bonds, her spine straight despite her restraints, not in submission, but in defiance. A woman holding herself together by sheer will.

I needed to see her face.

Look up, I silently commanded.

She didn't move.

But then, a flicker.

Just for a fraction of a second, dark blue eyes met mine.

And I saw the truth.

Zaitsev was wrong.

His daughter wasn't plain. Far from it. She was beautiful.

But more important than that, she was furious. Not afraid. Not broken.