Two weeks. That was our deal. Fourteen days to prove I’m husband material—to prove I can protect her, provide for her, keep her alive in a world where men like me aren’t built for gentleness. I am Pakhan of the Bratva. I rule through blood and fear. My enemies wait for weakness. My father waits for failure. One misstep and my empire burns. Phoebe Markova was meant to be strategy—a shield, a calculated move. Instead, she became my obsession. She doesn’t bow to monsters. She doesn’t break in rooms meant to destroy her. She looks at me like she sees the man beneath the crown—and dares him to be better. I tell myself two weeks is enough. But obsession has no deadline. If I fail, she walks. If she stays, she’s mine. And I will lie, kill, and set this city on fire before I ever let her go.
