LOGINAria's POV
The words hung in the air like a death sentence. “You’re not the one I paid for.” My heart slammed against my ribs so hard I thought it might crack them. Romanov Sleigh stood inches away from me, towering, his presence swallowing the entire room. Up close, he was even more devastating than the blurry photos I’d seen online—sharp jawline, cold gray eyes that seemed to cut right through lies, and a face carved by both power and danger. The kind of man who didn’t need to raise his voice to make people tremble. I forced myself to breathe. “I… I don’t know what you mean,” I lied, my voice barely above a whisper. His fingers were still holding the edge of my veil, now pushed back over my hair. Slowly, too slowly, he let it go. The silk whispered against my shoulders. His gaze never left my face, studying me like I was a problem he needed to solve—or eliminate. “Don’t insult my intelligence,” he said, his voice low and dangerously calm. “I may not have met my intended bride, but I have her picture. Her information. Her name. You are not Elena Voss.” Elena Voss. So that was the real bride’s name. I swallowed hard, my throat dry. The room felt too dark, too intimate, even with the lights on. A massive four-poster bed loomed behind him, and the heavy scent of sandalwood and something colder—maybe whiskey—clung to the air. “My name is Aria Robert,” I said, lifting my chin even though my knees wanted to buckle. “And I’m the one who signed the marriage documents today. Legally, I’m your wife.” A muscle ticked in his jaw. He took one step closer, and I had to fight the urge to back away. Men like him fed on fear. I could see it in the way he watched me—calculating, predatory. “Who sent you?” he demanded. “And where the hell is Elena?” “I don’t know where she is,” I answered honestly. “I was approached two days ago. My family’s company is on the verge of collapse. Your secretary offered a deal. I accepted.” Romanov’s eyes narrowed. “My secretary,” he repeated, the words laced with quiet fury. I could already imagine the poor man’s fate. He turned abruptly and walked toward the large window overlooking what looked like acres of private estate. Moonlight spilled across his broad shoulders. Even from behind, he radiated controlled power. I noticed the way his black dress shirt stretched across his back, the expensive fabric doing nothing to hide the muscle beneath. “You signed the contract,” he said without turning around. “The real one. The one that states if the bride is discovered to be fraudulent, all assets transferred to her will be clawed back. Along with penalties.” My stomach dropped. I hadn’t read the contract my father gave me, but I had signed a new one with the secretary in the car. They had assured me it was standard. “I didn’t know about any fraud clause,” I whispered. He let out a dark, humorless laugh and finally faced me again. “Of course you didn’t. You’re just another desperate girl trying to climb the ladder by spreading her legs for a rich man.” The accusation stung sharper than my mother’s shoes earlier today. Heat rushed to my face. “I haven’t spread my legs for anyone,” I shot back before I could stop myself. “And I didn’t come here for you. I came here to escape my family. They were going to use me as a pawn and throw me away once they got what they wanted. At least this way, I get something out of it.” For a second, something flickered in his eyes. Surprise? Curiosity? It was gone before I could name it. Romanov crossed the room in three strides and stopped right in front of me. He was so tall I had to tilt my head back to meet his gaze. My pulse thundered in my ears. “You think you can just replace Elena and I’ll accept it?” he asked, voice dropping even lower. “I had plans for her. Specific reasons for that marriage.” “Then why didn’t you meet her before the wedding?” I challenged, even though my hands were shaking. “You signed the papers without seeing her face. That tells me your reasons weren’t about love.” His hand shot out and caught my chin, firm but not painful. The touch sent an unwanted spark through me. His fingers were warm, calloused, completely at odds with the coldness in his eyes. “You have quite the mouth for a stand-in bride who could disappear tonight and no one would ask questions.” I held his stare, refusing to flinch. “Then why haven’t you called your men to drag me out yet?” Silence stretched between us. Thick. Dangerous. Charged. His thumb brushed my lower lip once, almost absentmindedly, before he released me. I felt the loss of contact more than I should have. “Because,” he said finally, “changing brides now would draw too much attention. The wedding has already been registered. The documents are filed. And I don’t have time to chase after Elena Voss if she’s decided to run.” He walked over to a small table and poured himself a glass of amber liquid. He didn’t offer me any. “You will stay as my wife,” he continued. “For now. But know this, Aria Robert—if I find out you’re working with whoever made Elena disappear, or if you try to betray me in any way, I won’t be merciful.” I nodded slowly, my chest tight. “And the properties?” I asked, hating how small my voice sounded. “The half that the bride is supposed to receive?” Romanov’s lips curved into a cold smile. “You’re bold. I’ll give you that.” He took a sip of his drink. “You’ll get nothing until I’m satisfied you’re not a threat. Prove yourself useful, and maybe we’ll talk. Disappoint me…” He let the threat hang. I should have been terrified. Instead, a strange mix of fear and defiance burned in my veins. This man was nothing like the cold, distant tycoon I’d imagined. He was fire wrapped in ice, and I had just walked straight into his domain. “What happens now?” I asked. He set the glass down and loosened his tie with one hand, eyes still locked on me. “Now, wife,” he said, the word dripping with dark promise, “you sleep in my bed. I need to make sure you don’t try to run before sunrise. And tomorrow… we start figuring out exactly what kind of game you’ve stepped into.” My breath caught as he began unbuttoning the top of his shirt, revealing a glimpse of a tattooed, muscular chest. This wasn’t a marriage. This was a cage. And the man locking the door was far more dangerous than my family had ever been.Aria’s POV Romanov set the note down beside the photograph, both of them side by side on his desk like evidence in a trial only he understood the stakes of. “You recognize him,” he said, watching my face rather than the picture. “From my father’s birthday two years ago.” I forced the memory into focus, sharpening details I hadn’t thought about in months. “He was introduced to me briefly. My father shook his hand as the man mattered more than anyone else in the room.” “Did you catch a name?” “No. My father never introduced business associates to me properly. I was decoration at those events, not a participant.” The old bitterness surfaced more easily than I expected, worn smooth from years of practice. “But I remember him standing near you. Or near where you should have been, if you’d actually attended.” Romanov’s expression shifted slightly. “I wasn’t there.” “Then who was standing in for you?” The question hung between us, heavier than either of us wanted to ackno
Aria’s POV I stood in the hallway with the phone still warm against my ear long after Romeo had hung up, Priya watching me with the careful patience of someone trained not to ask questions until she absolutely had to. Tell no one. Not Romanov. Not Elena. The instruction sat heavy in my chest, made heavier by the fact that I’d made Romanov a promise the very first morning of this marriage. And here I was, less than a minute into a phone call, already weighing whether my brother’s paranoia was worth breaking it. “You should sit,” Priya said quietly. “You’ve gone pale.” “I’m fine.” “You’re not,” she said, echoing Romanov’s exact words from days earlier, and something about the repetition made me laugh despite everything, a short, humorless sound that didn’t fix anything but loosened the knot in my chest by a fraction. I made my decision walking back to my room. Not because I trusted Romeo’s warning completely, but because I’d learned the hard way what secrets cost people
Aria’s POV She was breathing. That was the only thing I let myself register at first, kneeling in the wet grass beside her, my hands hovering uselessly over a body that looked too small and too still to belong to the woman who’d stood in Romanov’s study demanding her own survival. “She’s alive,” one of the guards said, fingers pressed to her throat. “Pulse is weak, but it’s there.” Romanov crouched on her other side, his voice sharp and controlled even as his jaw betrayed the tension coiled beneath it. “What happened to her?” “No visible gunshot wounds,” the guard said, running practiced hands along her ribs, her skull, the back of her neck. “Looks like blunt trauma. Possibly a fall, possibly worse.” “Get her inside,” Romanov ordered. “Now.” They moved her carefully, and I followed close behind, my mind racing through every version of what might have happened—Elena caught by whoever she’d gone after, Elena running from something that finally caught up to her, Elena sta
Aria’s POV Your turn is next. The words sat on the tablet screen long after the secretary lowered it, long after Romanov’s jaw had gone tight enough to ache just looking at it. “Lockdown,” Romanov said. “Full protocol. Everyone into the safe room until I know what we’re dealing with.” Nobody argued. Not even Romeo, who was finally cut loose from his restraints and half-carried down the hall by two guards who clearly still weren’t sure whether to treat him as a victim or a threat. The safe room felt smaller with four of us crowded into it—Romanov pacing near the door, Romeo slumped against the far wall nursing a split lip, the secretary hunched over a laptop tracking security feeds, and me sitting on the steel bench trying to keep my hands from shaking. “We need to talk about what that message means,” I said. “It means they know Elena’s gone,” Romanov said, not looking up from the monitor he’d commandeered. “And they think that leaves you exposed.” “Does it?” I asked.
Aria’s POV Romanov unfolded the note with hands that betrayed more than his face ever would. I read it over his shoulder, my heart hammering against my ribs. I found the proof. I know who’s behind Northbridge. I couldn’t wait for permission to leave—if I stayed, I would have led them straight to it. Trust me one more time. I’m going to end this. “She left to protect us,” I said slowly, “or she left because she’s finally free to do whatever she actually intended to do.” “Both interpretations are dangerous,” Romanov said, his voice flat. He was already moving toward the door, already reaching for his phone. “Full search. Every camera, every road out of this estate. She doesn’t leave this property without me knowing where.” Security scrambled into motion around us, but I already knew what they’d find. Elena was too careful to leave a trail she didn’t want followed. Romeo watched from his chair, still bound, still pale. “She’s going after Northbridge herself,” he said qui
Aria’s POV Romanov had Romeo brought inside within minutes, though “brought” felt generous for the way two guards half-carried him through the side entrance and deposited him in a chair in the security office, hands still bound. “Proof,” Romanov said, standing over him with his arms crossed. “Show me.” “It’s not on me,” Romeo said. “I hid it before I came, in case they caught me first.” “Convenient.” “I know how it looks.” Romeo’s voice cracked, exhaustion and fear bleeding through the words. “But I’ve spent the last week trying to fix something I helped break without even knowing I was breaking it.” I stood near the door, arms crossed, watching my brother in a way I never had before—not as the cruel, careless boy who’d mocked me my entire life, but as someone genuinely frightened, someone who looked smaller than I remembered. “Start from the beginning,” Romanov said. “Everything. Now.” Romeo’s throat worked. “About two months ago, a man approached me. Said he repres







