Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 77879 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77879 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
It was why I started my vendetta.
I wanted to rebuild this empire in the United States.
Russia wasn’t my home anymore.
It was the graveyard where the girl I used to be died.
The woman I became was born here, in the States. No longer Egor’s daughter—just me.
I couldn’t rebuild anything in Russia.
In the U.S., women had options. It wasn’t perfect, but it was possible.
In Russia, that success wasn’t even on the table.
And being back there would put me within reach of too many men who wanted me dead—or worse.
Men who’d force my hand, make me marry them, claim my wealth, and erase me.
A wife they hadn’t killed yet.
I wouldn’t do it.
Whatever the second option was, it had to be better than this one.
Gregor’s lip curled with disgust as he looked me over. “If you don’t want to return to Russia, then you will marry Roman.”
What?
My stomach twisted at how casually he said it, like my future was a business transaction, an inconvenience to be managed.
Still, I’d be lying if I said my heart didn’t jump. If I didn’t, for a split second, want to say yes.
But I couldn’t.
It was too easy.
There had to be a catch.
Marry a gorgeous man who could cook, who was gentle when he wanted to be, who touched me like I was the only woman in the world?
No.
There was a catch.
Nothing in this life came without strings.
“That’s it?” I asked, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
“No. If you stay, you’ll sign over every cent of your remaining wealth to your husband’s control.”
Gregor’s words were calm, but each one was a noose tightening around my throat.
“You’ll own nothing. No assets. No influence. No leverage.”
“Really? Is that all?” I asked, sarcasm biting sharper than it should’ve.
“No. When your father dies, all his holdings will go to Roman. You won’t live like a twenty-first-century American wife. You’ll live like an eighteenth-century Russian one. No decisions. No freedom. No leaving without an escort. You will be watched at all times.”
This wasn’t a proposal.
It wasn’t even a contract.
It was a prison sentence.
It didn’t matter what I felt for Roman.
It didn’t matter what he felt for me.
All that mattered was that Gregor regarded me as a threat.
A woman with money, with connections, with knowledge—and one he couldn’t control.
I had proven I was smarter than him. That I could outmaneuver him.
And for that, I was to be caged.
Not a partner. Not a woman.
A pet.
A thing.
My breath hitched, rage burning sharp and hot through my chest.
I had worked too hard for this. Given up too much. Fought too long to earn the right to choose my life.
And Gregor wanted to take it all away because I dared to be intelligent and resourceful.
He even had the audacity to act like he was doing me a favor in offering me exile or imprisonment.
If I went back to Russia, I’d be dead within the year.
So those were my choices.
Death or captivity.
I’d never go back to being the daughter. The wife.
Never again would I live on someone else’s terms.
Even if it ended in bloodshed. Even if it ended in my death.
My hands clenched into fists as I stared Gregor down, hate boiling in my veins.
“So that’s what this is. You don’t just want to dictate my life. You want to strip me of everything that’s mine.”
I already knew the answer, but I wanted to hear him say it.
“You were never entitled to keep any of it,” he scoffed. “Your husband’s fortune was never yours. You never consummated the marriage before you killed him. And the rest? You stole it from your father, who’s still alive. If he’s still breathing, that proves you’re not fit to lead. Not worthy of what you have.”
I laughed bitterly. “Is it that he’s still breathing… or that the one Ivanov I captured under your nose is?”
Gregor said nothing, but I caught the flicker in his eyes. His jaw twitched.
Bullseye.
“The place where my father’s being held is worse than death,” I said coldly. “He didn’t deserve the peace of dying. And where my money came from is none of your business.”
“I don’t care where it came from. But if you stay, I know exactly where it’s going.”
Another sharp laugh escaped my throat. The bitterness stung.
“What about Roman? What does he think about your little offer? Does he know you’re selling him for my fortune?”
Gregor’s face gave nothing away, but his next words cut deep.
“Roman agreed to the marriage.”
Something inside me cracked.
Something I didn’t even want to admit existed.
Roman agreed.
Of course he did.
That was why he took me.
Why he fed me.
Why he touched me.
It wasn’t about me.
It was about the money.
My heart slammed against my ribs, emotions crashing inside me: rage, disbelief… and something else. Something I couldn’t name.
Wouldn’t name.
Not now.
Not ever.
I lifted my chin and stared Gregor down.
“Russia,” I said. The word clanged like a hammer against steel in the quiet room.