CHAPTER 2

Alessia Moretti 

I stood frozen at the doorstep long after Nikolai Volkov had disappeared into the night. My body was stiff, my pulse erratic, my mind caught in an endless loop of disbelief and fury.

Future husband.

The words rang in my ears like a death sentence.

My fingers curled into tight fists at my sides. This cannot be happening.

A weak groan from inside the house snapped me out of my trance.

Luca.

I spun around, slamming the door shut behind me, and rushed back to where my brother was slumped against the couch. His face was pale, his breaths shallow, the bruises already darkening along his skin.

“We need to get you to a hospital,” I said, grabbing a damp towel and pressing it gently against his bleeding lip.

“No hospitals,” Luca muttered, wincing. “They ask too many questions.”

I bit back a frustrated scream. “And what? You’ll just sit here and bleed out?”

He offered me a weak smirk. “I’ve had worse.”

“Jesus Christ, Luca!” I threw the towel down, pacing the small living room. “Do you even understand what you’ve done?” My voice rose, shaking. “You sold me off like some piece of property! To him!”

Luca’s face twisted with guilt. “I didn’t have a choice, Al.”

"You always have a choice!" I exploded. "But you made the wrong one, over and over again, and now I have to pay for it?"

Silence.

The guilt in his eyes deepened, but it wasn’t enough. Nothing he said would be enough.

"Five million dollars, Luca?!" I scoffed, my voice dripping with disbelief. "How the hell did you even think you could pay that back?"

His jaw clenched. “I thought I could win—”

“That’s the problem with you,” I snapped. “You always think you can win. You always think you can outplay the game.” My voice cracked. “But this isn’t a game, Luca. It’s Nikolai Volkov.”

His name tasted like poison on my tongue.

Luca swallowed hard. “I know.”

I let out a shaky breath, my hands gripping the edge of the couch as I tried to hold myself together. “And what now? I just… marry him? Like it’s nothing?”

A long pause. Then, in a whisper, Luca said, “He won’t take no for an answer.”

My stomach dropped.

I knew that. Of course, I knew that.

Nikolai wasn’t a man who asked for things. He took them. Ruthlessly, unapologetically.

And now, he wanted me.

I sank onto the couch beside Luca, my head falling into my hands. “Dad agreed to this?”

Luca hesitated before nodding.

I clenched my jaw. Of course, he had. Our father wasn’t a coward, but when it came to protecting his children—protecting Luca—he would do anything. Even sacrifice me.

A wave of nausea rolled through me.

I couldn’t do this.

I wouldn’t do this.

I refused to let him win.

.........

Morning came too soon, the light filtering through the windows feeling like an insult. I had barely slept, my mind an endless loop of every possible way to escape this nightmare.

But no matter how many scenarios I ran through, they all ended the same way—with Nikolai getting what he wanted.

I needed to talk to my father.

When I arrived at Moretti Enterprises, the office was already alive with movement. My father’s company was the public face of our family—import and export, real estate, stocks—but everyone knew what it really was: a front.

I strode past the reception desk, ignoring the curious glances of the employees, and pushed open the door to his private office without knocking.

Dante Moretti sat behind his massive mahogany desk, staring out of the floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the city. His salt-and-pepper hair was neatly combed back, his expensive suit crisp, but the dark circles under his eyes told me he had slept just as little as I had.

He turned when he heard me enter, and his face tightened.

“Alessia,” he said, his voice laced with caution.

I slammed the door behind me. “Tell me it’s not true.”

He sighed, rubbing his temples. “Luca told you.”

“Told me?” I let out a bitter laugh. “Oh, he did more than that. He destroyed me.”

My father exhaled sharply. “I didn’t have a choice.”

“There’s always a choice!”

“Not when it’s Volkov.”

His voice was strained, exhausted.

My hands trembled as I gripped the back of a chair. “You were supposed to protect me, Dad.”

His eyes darkened. “And that’s exactly what I’m doing.”

I shook my head. “No. You’re protecting Luca. You’re protecting the family. But what about me?”

His silence was my answer.

I felt something in me shatter.

There was no way out.

Not unless I was willing to watch my father, my brother—everyone I loved—suffer at Nikolai’s hands.

And I knew, without a doubt, that he would make them suffer.

My hands curled into fists. “Then I’ll make my own terms.”

Dante studied me carefully. “What do you mean?”

I lifted my chin. “If I have to marry him, I want control. I want an expiration date.”

He hesitated. “Nikolai won’t—”

“He will,” I cut him off. “Because I’ll make sure he does.”

And if there was one thing I knew about Nikolai Volkov…

It was that he loved a good gamble.

That Evening – Nikolai’s Penthouse

The black car pulled up to a sleek, glass-covered skyscraper in the heart of Los Angeles. The building exuded power, just like the man who owned it.

I stepped out, my heart hammering against my ribs, my hands sweaty despite my outwardly composed demeanor.

The lobby was grand—marble floors, gold accents, the scent of luxury everywhere. A security guard led me to a private elevator, and within seconds, I was being escorted into Nikolai’s penthouse.

The space was dimly lit, the glow of the city skyline casting shadows along the sleek leather furniture. A fireplace crackled in the distance, and standing beside it, with a whiskey glass in hand, was him.

Nikolai turned as I entered, his lips curling into that infuriating smirk.

"Printsessa."

I ignored the way my pulse spiked at the nickname.

I walked forward, closing the distance between us. “I want to make a deal.”

He arched a brow, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. “Oh?”

I met his gaze, steady and unyielding.

“If I marry you,” I said, “it’ll be for one year.”

A pause. Then, a slow, amused chuckle. “You think you can negotiate with me?”

“I know I can.”

Nikolai studied me, curiosity flickering in those sharp blue eyes.

Then, he took a slow sip of whiskey before setting the glass down.

And in a voice as smooth as silk, he said, “Alright, Printsessa. Let’s play.”