Page 106 of Captive Prize

There had to be a catch.

Marry a gorgeous man who could cook, who was gentle when he wanted to be, who touched me like I was the only woman in the world?

No.

There was a catch.

Nothing in this life came without strings.

“That’s it?” I asked, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“No. If you stay, you’ll sign over every cent of your remaining wealth to your husband’s control.”

Gregor’s words were calm, but each one was a noose tightening around my throat.

“You’ll own nothing. No assets. No influence. No leverage.”

“Really? Is that all?” I asked, sarcasm biting sharper than it should’ve.

“No. When your father dies, all his holdings will go to Roman. You won’t live like a twenty-first-century American wife. You’ll live like an eighteenth-century Russian one. No decisions. No freedom. No leaving without an escort. You will be watched at all times.”

This wasn’t a proposal.

It wasn’t even a contract.

It was a prison sentence.

It didn’t matter what I felt for Roman.

It didn’t matter what he felt for me.

All that mattered was that Gregor regarded me as a threat.

A woman with money, with connections, with knowledge—and one he couldn’t control.

I had proven I was smarter than him. That I could outmaneuver him.

And for that, I was to be caged.

Not a partner. Not a woman.

A pet.

A thing.

My breath hitched, rage burning sharp and hot through my chest.

I had worked too hard for this. Given up too much. Fought too long to earn the right to choose my life.

And Gregor wanted to take it all away because I dared to be intelligent and resourceful.

He even had the audacity to act like he was doing me a favor in offering me exile or imprisonment.

If I went back to Russia, I’d be dead within the year.

So those were my choices.

Death or captivity.

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