NICOLEI found myself standing in a Russian mansion with my father and stepmom. How did I get here?

“Nicole, stop spacing out,” my father tugged at me as our arms were intertwined while my stepmom, Hailey, glared at me.

“Sorry,” I muttered an apology. Two days after my twenty-second birthday, I had been informed of my fate, and two weeks later, here I am at my engagement party which was just me basically being sold off for family benefits to the Volkonskys. I'd be lying to say I came here willingly as there's no sane person who'd have heard of Kirill that would want to end up as his bride. He was rumored to be a psychopath that killed for fun.

“You're lucky someone who's a Volkonsky is willing to settle for someone like you,” Hailey hissed. If that was true, she could have just married her daughter off to him instead.

Father was sweating slightly, despite the cool temperature of the room. Even a wealthy American businessman affiliated with the mafia, a man who thought he controlled the world, felt the chill when dealing with the Volkonskys. I was the key to his first billion, a peace offering, and a financial conduit all wrapped in a designer dress.

The room was filled with Russian elite—men in perfectly tailored suits drinking rare vodka with their cigars in their hand and women dripping in diamonds who carried themselves with grace.

My father finally led me to the receiving area where the Volkonsky family stood waiting.

“Sergey,” my father said, his voice dropping into a tone of submissive respect I rarely heard him use. “This is my daughter, Nicole Baker.”

I stood frozen for a minute before offering a tense bow, he looked intimidating and I was afraid that one wrong move could have me killed.

“You don't have to be so tense,” he assured, not that it was enough to actually make me ease up. I raised my head slowly as I straightened my back.

The man my father addressed, Sergey Volkonsky, was the Don. He was powerfully built, with thick brown hair threaded with gray, and weary green eyes. He shook my father’s hand firmly, his gaze pausing on me for barely a second before shifting back to the crowd with a tired, distant look. He didn't seem cruel, just a bit unbothered and strict.

Next to Sergey stood a woman and a younger man, both keeping a distance between themselves.

“My oldest daughter, Ekaterina,” Sergey introduced the woman. She was strikingly beautiful, perhaps in her early thirties, with long brown hair and blue eyes. She didn't offer a hand, only a minimal, assessing nod that made me feel like an item under inspection. I don't think she likes me.

“And this is Pavel, my eldest son,” Sergey continued.

Pavel, the man with the same thick brown hair and green eyes as his father, stepped forward. Unlike his sister, he offered a polished smile that was too eager and too interested.

“So you're Ivan’s bride? You're very pretty,” he complimented as he shook my hand. “I never thought I'd see the day Ivan would get married,” he grinned a bit too much.

“I appreciate the compliment,” I let out a little laugh awkwardly.

“You must be rather brave to want to marry him though,” he held my hand a bit too tight. “Haven't you heard the rumors?”

“Pavel, watch your mouth,” Ekaterina glared at him with so much hostility that I was beginning to wonder what was really going on.

“I guess I can't say much,” he looked back at me. “You will find out for yourself eventually,” he finally let go of my hand which I was grateful for.

“Last but not the least, this is my youngest child, Tatiana,” he cleared his throat, introducing her. A girl with big green eyes and long curly hair popped out from behind Sergey. She was adorable, well not until she stepped out completely and I realized she was slightly taller than me despite looking younger.

“Are you going to get married to my brother?” She was like a little child.

“I guess,” I nodded my head.

“That means, I get to see you often. Let's be friends,” she suggested out of the blue. “How old are you? I'm twenty.”

“I'm twenty-two,” I answered. She was such a breath of fresh air in an atmosphere like this that it disoriented me.

“I'll be looking forward to seeing you more,” she beamed.

“Tatiana, leave her alone. You don't want to tire her out with your energy before the engagement,” Sergey patted her head and she finally let me be.

“I don't see Ivan anywhere. Has he not come yet?” My father asked, scanning the room.

“Ivan does as he pleases but he'll be here soon enough,” Sergey answered. Ivan sounded like a real headache even to his dad.

Before Sergey could finish the explanation, a shift happened in the ballroom. It wasn't loud, but the entire atmosphere changed. The murmuring crowd subtly parted, turning their attention toward the main entrance with an almost reverent obedience.

My heart began to hammer against my ribs. Ivan.

He was there.

He was not what the rumors suggested. The rumors described a monster, a creature of pure darkness. They failed to mention that the darkness was breathtakingly beautiful if I could use that word to describe a man.

He was immensely tall, framed perfectly by the arched entryway. His hair was a startling, pale gold, and his eyes were a piercing, icy blue. He moved with a predatory, unhurried grace that commanded every gaze. He was a work of art to say the least and for one ridiculous, foolish second, my terror dissolved, replaced by a dizzying rush of pure, undeniable physical attraction. I thought: If this is the face of my captivity, maybe it won't be so bad after all.

He walked toward us, his gaze sweeping over the room, acknowledging no one. When those blue eyes finally landed on me, they held nothing. No lust, no curiosity, no kindness. Just a sharp, assessing emptiness.

He stopped directly in front of me. The music seemed to fade into nothing. Sergey put a heavy hand on his son's shoulder. “Ivan. This is Nicole, your future wife.”

The name "Ivan" caused a flicker of something dark and unpleasant in his eyes, but it was momentary. He barely acknowledged his father. He didn't offer a hand. He merely inclined his head once, a gesture so minimal it was more insulting than polite.

Then, he opened his mouth, and destroyed the false redemption of character I had given him earlier on.

“How ironic that my bride is an illegitimate child just like someone's son,” he glanced at Sergey with a small smirk. Ekaterina pinched her nose bridge and looked away, letting out a sigh. What was going on? “Well, at least she's pretty enough for me not to want to hit her on a whim,” he grabbed my chin and assessed me. I nearly thought I was dead with how quickly he'd grabbed me.

“Ivan,” Sergey growled and Ivan let go of me.

“Don't worry, Tsar, I have no plans of killing your present just yet,” he looked back at his dad before staring back at me, “ as long as she doesn't forget her place, that is,” he said to both I and Sergey, while staring intensely at me.

My cheeks flushed crimson, the heat rushing up my neck. That foolish flicker of hope died instantly, leaving behind a cold, sick weight in my stomach. I was intimidated, afraid, and I knew in that moment that marrying him might be the biggest mistake I would make.