Page 146 of His Forced Bride
I can see these men reassessing me, recognizing strategic thinking that matches their own ruthless pragmatism.
"It's elegant," admits the man who'd wanted to kill her immediately.
"Complicated, but elegant."
Yuri's hand finds mine under the table, his fingers intertwining with mine.
When I look at him, I see pride in his expression mixed with recognition.
I've evolved into exactly the partner he needs, and all it took was a bit of pressure.
"Any objections?" Yuri asks the room.
There are none.
Not a single man in this room has a better idea or objects to my strategy.
I'm part of the team.
When the meeting finally ends and we're driving back to the safe house, Yuri reaches over to take my hand again.
"How do you feel?" he asks.
"Dangerous," I admit.
"And angry."
"Good. Because that's exactly what we need right now."
I turn to study his profile and study his face.
"Do you regret letting me become part of this?"
"No. I regret that it took me so long to recognize who you really are."
He shakes his head and squeezes my hand more tightly.
"And who am I?"
He brings my hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to my knuckles.
"Mine."
26
YURI
The courthouse steps are crowded with reporters and cameras when we arrive.
I should've anticipated this—Viktoria never wastes an opportunity for public theater.
She's turned what should've been a routine legal proceeding into a media spectacle, complete with photographers and sympathetic journalists who've already decided which narrative they plan to tell.
I wonder how much she paid them.
I help Inessa from the car, keeping my hand on her lower back as we weave through the crowd.
Questions bombard us from every direction, microphones thrust toward our faces while cameras flash continuously.
