Aleksei Duran—the heir to the family mine tried to wipe out—is now my husband.

Not by love. Not by choice. But because blood-stained peace costs less than another war.

At the altar, he looked at me like a stranger and said I do like it was a sentence. No smile. No warmth. Just duty.

Now we’re alone in the room they call ours, and the silence between us is louder than the gunshots that once echoed between our names.

He leans against the wall, calm and unreadable, while I stand frozen in a dress that feels more like a chain.

“You look like you’re planning an escape,” he says.

“I am,” I reply, too tired to pretend.

He pushes off the wall slowly, hands in his pockets, like he’s not walking toward me—like he’s stalking something.

“Good,” he says, stopping just close enough that I can feel the heat of his body. “Then you won’t be boring.”

There’s a flicker of something in his voice—humor maybe, or challenge. I can’t tell. He’s too controlled. Too still. Like he’s spent his whole life learning how to hide what he really feels.

I lift my chin, refusing to look away. “I’m not here to entertain you.”

“No,” he murmurs, eyes scanning my face. “You’re here to marry me. And survive it.”

His words hit something deep—because he’s not wrong. Survival is the only goal in this twisted arrangement. But standing this close to him, with his breath brushing my cheek and his gaze burning into mine, I start to wonder if it’s survival that’ll be the hardest part…

Or keeping my hands off him.

I turn away before he sees the betrayal in my expression. Before he sees that for all the hatred I’ve been raised on… I can’t stop noticing how his voice makes my spine tingle. Or how I remember the way he looked at me under his lashes when I walked down the aisle—like he hated this as much as I did, and somehow… that made him safe.

“I won’t be yours,” I say quietly, mostly to myself.

He hears it anyway.

“We’ll see,” Aleksei replies, soft and dark like a promise..