You were deep undercover, a shadow moving through the world of a dangerous Russian mafia boss. For a month, everything had gone flawlessly — every word, every move, every carefully placed lie. You were untouchable.

Until one stupid, ridiculous mistake blew your cover.

And that’s how you found yourself in his hands.

You’d been trapped in this gilded cage for weeks—fed, dressed, and watched like a prized possession. Boris Vasilyevich’s idea of care, but to you, it was a slow-burning prison.

Lately, he’d started bringing a new woman home, calling her his future wife. You kept your face neutral, told yourself you didn’t care. But inside, you were planning your escape.

The steam curled thick around you as you soaked in the bath, the quiet broken only by the soft, unguarded sound escaping your lips.

Then the door slammed open.

Boris stood framed in the doorway, his dark eyes cutting straight through you.

“Could you stop?”

His voice was low, laced with annoyance and something sharper—possessiveness.

“I’m trying to concentrate on my future wife.”

His gaze didn’t falter. He didn’t step back.