Chapter Three — Marriage Proposal

Elara's POV

The proposal didn’t come with flowers or a ring. It came with a contract, a loaded gun resting on the table, and the cold understanding that refusing wasn’t an option because people’s lives depended on my answer.

I stood in Ruin’s office, the compound alive with noise outside. Engines roared, men yelled orders, and metal clanged as they got ready for the night's operation. Everything inside was still and heavy, like the calm before a storm. Ruin sat behind his desk, his broad frame filling the chair. His hands were folded calmly, as if we were discussing a business deal instead of my fate.

I stayed standing.

“You said this was temporary,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady even though my heart was pounding. “You said it was a solution.”

“It is,” he said without hesitation.

“That’s not an answer.”

His grey eyes locked onto mine, cold and sharp, but beneath that was something else, maybe tension or a careful restraint.

“The Bratva won’t accept appearances anymore,” he said quietly. “They want permanence.”

I swallowed hard. “And permanence,” I said slowly, “means marriage.”

“Yes,” Ruin replied.

The word echoed in my mind like a warning.

Marriage.

I had dreamt of it once, years ago, before debts, before blood, before fear. Something soft and chosen, not this. Not a forced vow under threat of violence.

I wrapped my arms around myself, suddenly feeling cold. “You don’t even know me.”

“I know enough,” Ruin said. “You don’t lie well. You don’t flinch when men raise their voices. And you haven’t tried to run.”

“That doesn’t mean I want this.”

“No,” he agreed. “It means you understand what’s at stake.”

I laughed, a quiet, bitter sound. “Is that what this is to you? Stakes?”

Ruin leaned back in his chair. “It’s survival.”

“For you,” I shot back. “Or for me?”

His gaze sharpened. “For both.”

He stood and walked around the desk. I tensed without meaning to.

He stopped a few feet away, careful not to crowd me. “This isn’t about owning you,” he said. “It’s about stopping a war before it starts.”

“You keep saying that,” I whispered, “but every step drags me deeper into it.”

Silence stretched between us.

Then Ruin reached into a drawer and slid a thin folder across the desk. “The terms,” he said.

I stared at it as it might bite. “You’ve already decided,” I said.

“Yes.”

My throat tightened. “Then why am I here?”

“Because I won’t force you blindly,” he said. “Read it.”

My hands trembled as I opened the folder. The words inside were cold and clinical:

No physical demands.

No heirs required.

Protection guaranteed.

Until the debt is paid off or both parties agree to end the marriage, it is binding. There was nothing romantic about it. No promises of love or partnership. Just survival, stripped bare.

“You don’t even want a real marriage,” I said.

“I don’t want anything that puts you in danger,” he replied. “This keeps you alive.”

“By trapping me,” I snapped.

Ruin’s jaw tightened. “By shielding you.”

I looked up at him. “Do you know what it feels like to have your future decided by men who talk about blood and territory like it’s weather?”

Something flickered in his eyes—recognition, maybe guilt.

“Yes,” he said quietly. “I do.”

That admission hit me harder than anger ever could.

I took a slow breath. “And if I say no?”

Ruin didn’t hesitate. “The Bratva takes you. They won’t negotiate twice.”

Fear clawed at my chest, sharp and relentless. “You’re using them to corner me,” I said.

“I’m using myself to block them,” he said. “There’s a difference.”

I closed the folder and pressed it to my chest.

Marriage meant staying. Wearing his name. Standing beside him while enemies watched for weakness meant belonging to a world I despised, but refusing to comply meant death. Or worse.

“You won’t touch me,” I said suddenly. “Not unless I say so. You won’t kiss me. And don’t you dare fall in love with me.”

Ruin held my gaze and laughed. “I won’t.”

“You swear?”

“I don’t swear lightly,” he said. “But yes.”

I studied him—really looked at him. He had a scar that cut across his cheek, and the hard lines of his face were evident. He carried himself like a man who had learned early that control was the only thing standing between order and chaos. And beneath it all, I saw loneliness, not the soft kind but the kind that hardened into steel.

“I won’t be paraded,” I said. “I won’t be used as a symbol.”

“You’ll be respected and cared for,” he said. “As my wife.”

The word sent a shiver through me. “Then I have conditions,” I said.

Ruin raised an eyebrow. “You’re in no position to make demands.”

“Then this deal won’t work,” I replied, surprised by the firmness in my voice. “Because if you break me, this marriage becomes your weakness. And men like the Bratva will smell it.”

There was silence. Then Ruin smiled slowly, sharply, and approvingly.

“Go on,” he said.

“No one speaks to me like I’m disposable,” I said. “Not your men. Not your allies. Not you. I won’t be ordered around.” And one more thing, I added that I am free to do whatever I want.

“Agreed.”

“I get to leave this compound when I want with guards.”

“Agreed.”

“I don’t share a bed with you,” I finished. “Not yet. And you don’t expect any ‘wifey duties’ from me.”

Ruin didn’t answer right away. The pause stretched, heavy and dangerous. Finally, he smiled and nodded. “Agreed.”

Relief hit me so hard my knees nearly gave out. “When?” I asked.

“Tonight,” he said.

Tonight?

My heart slammed painfully against my ribs.

“There’s one more thing,” he added.

I looked up. “What?”

“This won’t look like a proposal,” Ruin said. “It’ll look like a claim.”

My skin prickled. “Explain.”

“The Bratva will be watching,” he said. “They need to believe you’re mine.”

The words settled deep inside me, uncomfortable and intimate.

“And if they don’t?”

“Then this ends badly.”

A knock sounded at the door. Axel stepped in, his eyes flicking to me before returning to Ruin. “They’re ready.”

Ruin nodded. “Prep the yard.”

Axel paused, then smirked faintly. “Congratulations, President.”

The word tasted wrong.

Ruin turned back to me after Axel left. “You should know something.”

“What?” I asked.

“This isn’t how I planned to marry,” he said quietly.

The honesty surprised me.

“You planned to?” I asked.

“For someone else,” he said. “In another life.”

That hurt more than it should have.

“Then why me?” I asked softly.

Ruin held my gaze, his voice low. “Because you walked into hell and didn’t beg.”

Outside, the compound lights flared to life. Men gathered, engines idled, and I felt like I was stepping toward the edge of something irreversible.

Ruin extended his hand. “Last chance,” he said. “Once you walk out there, everything changes.”

I stared at his hand. Then I placed mine in it. His grip was firm, steady, warm, and terrifying, and as we stepped into the floodlights, the crowd fell silent. A man broke from the shadows near the gate. He wore a Bratva pin. When his eyes met mine, he smiled like he already knew something neither Ruin nor I did.