Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 84968 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84968 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
"How?" The question burst out before I could stop it, raw and desperate. "How are you all so happy? They're killers. Monsters. They took your choices away, forced you into marriage, and you're laughing about it like it's some romantic comedy."
The laughter faded, replaced by understanding smiles that somehow left me feeling even more isolated.
"Because," Viktoria said gently, her voice carrying the weight of experience, "they're not just killers. They're complicated. Possessive, yes. Controlling, absolutely. Dangerous in ways that should terrify us. But devoted in ways that..."
"That what?" I pressed, genuinely desperate to understand how they'd made peace with their situations.
"That make you feel like the most precious thing in their world," Marina finished softly. "Like they would tear apart anyone who even thought about hurting you. Like you're not just wanted, but needed."
I wanted to scoff, to point out the insanity of Stockholm syndrome masquerading as love.
But Pavel's face flashed in my mind—the way he'd sat patiently with my grandmother, listening to her stories and laughing at her jokes.
The gentle hands that washed me after claiming my body so thoroughly I forgot my own name.
The way he'd held me during that movie, stroking my hair until I fell asleep feeling safer than I had in years.
How could the same man who threatened my grandmother's safety also ensure she received the best care available?
How could hands capable of violence be so tender when they touched me?
"He's holding my grandmother hostage," I said flatly, needing to voice the ugly truth that separated my situation from their romantic narratives.
"Artem threatened me," Viktoria replied without missing a beat. "Multiple times. Very creatively."
"Gregor bought me from my parents," Samara added matter-of-factly. "Literally purchased me like livestock."
"Marina was stalked for months," Nadia contributed quietly.
"But here we are," Marina said, spreading her arms to encompass our surreal bridal fitting. "Not just surviving but thriving. Loved, protected, cherished in ways we never thought possible."
Here they were indeed—radiant, protected, loved by men who would burn the world down for them.
But at what cost?
What had they given up to achieve this happiness?
"I don't understand how you made that transition," I admitted. "From terror to...this."
"Time," Viktoria said simply. "And honesty. With them, but mostly with ourselves about what we actually wanted versus what we thought we should want."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean," she continued, her voice gentle but firm, "when was the last time you felt truly safe? Not just physically, but emotionally? When did you last have someone anticipate your needs, care for your wellbeing, make your happiness their priority?"
The question hit harder than I expected.
The honest answer was never.
My entire adult life had been about survival, about shouldering responsibilities that weren't mine, about making everyone else's needs more important than my own.
I looked at the women around me, now deep in conversation about something happening at the compound.
They were all glowing, radiant with happiness.
They didn't know the specifics of my story.
I didn't know what I was allowed to tell them.
They told me a little of theirs and it seemed like they were in…similar situations.
But now they were happy, in love and flourishing under the protection and support of the most dangerous men in the world.
Pavel mentioned me going back to school.
Would he let me do that?
Would I be allowed to create the future I wanted, as long as I stayed by his side?
It seemed too good to be true.
I was lost in thought when the air shifted.
"Ladies."
The temperature in the room plummeted.
Pavel's voice cut through our conversation, and even these fearless women straightened slightly.
The easy camaraderie of moments before shifted into something more formal, more careful.
"Time for you to leave."
I met his eyes in the mirror, my breath catching at the intensity I found there.
Something dangerous flickered in those dark depths—not anger, exactly, but something that made my pulse spike with equal parts fear and unwanted anticipation.
He filled the doorway like a storm cloud, his expensive suit doing nothing to civilize the predatory energy that seemed to radiate from him.
The other women exchanged glances, a silent communication passing between them that spoke of experience with their own dangerous husbands.
Yelena helped me out of my dress and into a robe before packing the dress up along with her tools, while everyone else gathered their things with practiced efficiency, no questions asked, no protests offered.
Yelena pressed a quick kiss to my cheek, her voice barely above a whisper. "The dress will be ready first thing tomorrow morning. Try to get some rest tonight."
Marina squeezed my hand. "Everything will be fine. Trust me."
Samara and Viktoria offered encouraging smiles, while Nadia simply nodded her understanding.
Then they were gone, leaving me alone with Pavel, who had walked in and caught me in a wedding dress that suddenly seemed more like a costume for a play I'd never auditioned for.
The silence stretched between us, heavy with unspoken tension.