Chapter 4
The reception proceeded with surreal normality. They sat at the head table, Lily between them, chattering happily about her flower girl dress and her “do-over wedding.” Melanie and Emma’s few other guests maintained a wary distance, occasionally shooting concerned glances that Emma answered with reassuring smiles she did not feel.
Halfway through the meal, Alexander leaned close to her, his voice low enough that only she could hear. “Your sister wants to speak with you alone. I suggest the ladies’ room in five minutes. My men will ensure privacy.”
She turned to him, startled. “How did you know?”
“She’s been signaling you for the past ten minutes. And she’s frightened for you. A reasonable concern, given the circumstances.”
The fact that he had noticed — and more surprisingly, that he was facilitating the conversation — confused her. “You don’t mind?”
“I’m not a jailer, Emma. You’re my wife, not my prisoner.”
The distinction felt thinner than his words suggested, but she nodded gratefully. “Thank you.”
Five minutes later, she slipped away and met Melanie in the ornate hotel restroom. One of Alexander’s men stood outside the door, ensuring they were not disturbed.
“Emma, what the hell is happening?” Melanie gripped her arms. “Who is this man? Are you being threatened?”
“It’s complicated, Mel. Alexander is powerful. Connected. Greg stole from him and ran.”
“So what? That’s not your problem. You can’t just marry a — a criminal because your ex was a thief.”
“He’s not —” Emma paused, realizing she had no idea whether Alexander was a criminal or not. The presence of armed guards and his casual references to debts and threats certainly suggested something outside the law. “I don’t know what he is exactly. But I know he could hurt a lot of people if I had refused.”
“Like you?” Melanie pressed. “Emma, listen to yourself. This is Stockholm syndrome before you’ve even been kidnapped.”
“I don’t have a choice right now. I need to protect Lily, and this is the way to do it. He’s promised us safety, security. Lily can have the life I could never give her on my own.”
Melanie’s eyes filled with tears. “At what cost, Emma? What will he expect from you?”
The question hung between them, unanswered. The door swung open. One of Alexander’s men stood in the doorway, his expression carefully neutral. “Mrs. Volkov. Your husband requests your presence for the cake cutting.”
Mrs. Volkov. The name still felt foreign. Like a costume she had put on rather than an identity.
She squeezed Melanie’s hand. “It’s going to be okay. Trust me.”
“I trust you,” Melanie whispered. “It’s him I don’t trust.”
The cake cutting ceremony was a strange facsimile of tradition. Alexander’s hand covered hers as they sliced through the bottom tier together, his touch warm and steady against her trembling fingers. When it came time to feed each other a piece, she hesitated. Alexander seemed to sense her reluctance.
With a subtlety she was beginning to recognize as characteristic, he adjusted the moment — taking a small bite from the piece she offered, then immediately turning to offer a bite to Lily instead of to her. Lily giggled with delight, chocolate frosting smearing across her cheek.
“Your turn, Mommy,” Lily insisted. Emma found herself accepting a small piece from Alexander’s fingers, the casual intimacy of the gesture sending another unwelcome ripple of awareness through her.
As the cake was distributed, Alexander led her to the small dance floor.
“I don’t think I can dance,” she whispered, panic rising at the thought of being held in his arms while everyone watched.
“We must. It’s expected. Just follow my lead.”
His arm slipped around her waist, drawing her against him with gentle but insistent pressure. His other hand clasped hers, and they began moving to the soft music.
“You’re afraid,” he observed, his voice low enough that only she could hear.
“Of course I’m afraid. I just married a complete stranger who threatened Greg’s family if I refused. Should I be relaxed?”
A smile tugged at his lips. “Your fear is reasonable. But perhaps misplaced.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means I have no intention of harming you or Lily. Quite the opposite.”
“Then why force this marriage? Why not just let me go when Greg ran?”
Alexander was quiet for a moment, his steps never faltering. “I’ve had my eye on you for some time.”
“That doesn’t explain anything.”
“Your resilience. Your loyalty. Your fierce protection of your daughter despite overwhelming odds. These qualities are valuable to me.”
“Valuable,” she repeated. “Like an asset.”
“Like a partner,” he corrected. “I have wealth, power, influence. But these things mean little without someone worthy to share them with. Someone who understands sacrifice and loyalty.”
“So you watched me from afar and decided I would make a suitable wife.”
“In essence, yes.” He admitted without a trace of embarrassment. “Though the opportunity to claim you arose unexpectedly. Greg’s theft accelerated my timeline.”
“Claim me.” She echoed, the possessive language sending a shiver down her spine. “I’m not a possession, Alexander.”
“Alex.” He corrected gently. “And no, you’re not a possession. You’re something far more precious. A woman who earned my respect before you even knew I existed.”
Before she could respond, Lily bounded onto the dance floor, breaking the tension. “Dance with me too, Alex!”
May you like
Without hesitation, he released Emma and scooped Lily up, settling her on his hip. “As the lady commands.”
Emma watched them — her daughter laughing in the arms of a dangerous stranger, the sight both alarming and strangely comforting. Children often sensed things adults missed.
