"I don't belong to you."
The light in her eyes dims as she glares at me.
The words snap through me, igniting something dark and possessive in my chest.
"You will. In one hour, you'll stand in front of a judge and promise to honor and obey. You'll take my name. You'll live in my house. You'll sleep in my bed."
Color floods her cheeks.
Her hands curl into fists at her sides.
"I'll see it all burn first. My company, my father's legacy, all of it—I'll watch it turn to ash before I let you control it."
The defiance in her voice should anger me.
Instead, it sends heat coursing through my blood, awakening something I buried years ago.
She's magnificent in her rage, deadly and beautiful and completely unbroken despite everything being taken from her.
"Your father built nothing," I tell her, stepping closer until I can see the gold flecks in her gray-green eyes.
"He managed what you created. Every design, every line, every success—that was you. And you think I'd let it burn?"
Her breath catches.
For a moment, uncertainty flickers across her face.
"I've seen your sketches," I continue, voice dropping lower.
"The ones you hide in your room, the designs you work on when you think no one is watching. You have vision, talent that goes beyond what your father ever understood. I won't let thatdisappear because you're too stubborn to see what this marriage protects."
"Protects?" The word comes out sharp and mocking.
"This isn't about protection."
"Kozlov wants Dominic's arms deal completed, and he's not the type to accept failure gracefully. My own brother questions whether this alliance shows weakness. Without the marriage, without my backing, your company becomes a target because Dominic failed and because your father was ready to get in bed with him. The Kozlovs will come right after that pretty throat of yours, and there will be no one standing between your flesh and their blade."
I move closer, backing her against the wall until her spine presses against the cold surface.
"You think you're strong enough to face all of that alone? Your company will be picked apart by creditors within months. Kozlov will make sure you can't rebuild."
Her chin lifts in challenge.
"Then let it happen."
We're inches apart now, close enough that I feel the heat radiating from her skin, can see the rapid rise and fall of her chest beneath the thin silk, the press of her nipples through the flimsy fabric.
Her lips are slightly parted, and I remember how they felt beneath my thumb last night, soft and warm and trembling.
She sees the hunger in my eyes—I don't try to hide it.
Her breath hitches, color spreading down her throat, disappearing beneath the deep neckline of her slip.
"This is what you want, isn't it?"
Her voice is barely a whisper, but it carries accusation.
"Not the company, not the alliance. You want me."