Page 73 of Twisted Pact
“Alexei, we have a problem.”
“I’m aware.”
“Everyone’s asking about my daughter’s relationship with you. Whether this alliance is official or if you’re just fucking around with my child for entertainment.”
Mila flinches at the crude words.
“What did you tell them?” I ask.
“Nothing. I don’t know what to say. Is this serious or not?”
I glance at my brother, then at Mila, and the answer leaves my mouth before I can stop it. “It’s serious.”
“Then make it official. Tonight. Before more speculation destroys both our names.”
Dmitri nods once. I want to hurl my phone across the room.
“What do you mean by ‘official’?” I ask.
“An engagement announcement. A public statement confirming what everyone saw. Make it clear this isn’t a fling and that she’s off-limits.”
I snort. “You want me to propose?”
“I want you to say you already did. Retroactively. Tell them the engagement happened weeks ago, and tonight was your first appearance as a couple.”
Mila springs to her feet. “No.”
“Excuse me?” Leonid’s voice cuts through the speaker.
“I said no. You don’t get to announce my engagement without asking me first.”
“Mila—” her father begins.
“Don’t ‘Mila’ me. This is my life. My future. You don’t get to decide who I marry just to protect your reputation.”
“This isn’t about what anyone wants,” Dmitri says evenly. “That video makes Alexei look reckless. Enemies are circling.”
“So, we lie about being engaged to save face?”
“We tell a version that protects both families,” Dmitri replies. “People don’t need the messy truth.”
“The truth is I’m being held captive by a man who can’t control his temper in public.”
Silence falls. Even Leonid goes quiet.
Her words hit hard. I know she’s angry and scared, lashing out because her world just imploded. But hearing her call what we have captivity with benefits freezes something in my chest.
“Enough.” I end the call and face them both. “This conversation’s over until I decide what to do.”
“Alexei—” Dmitri starts.
“I said it’s over. Sit down, Mila. We’ll discuss this here—not let everyone else decide for us.”
She crosses her arms. “I don’t take orders from you.”
“You do when it’s about your safety. Sit. Down.”
Something in my tone must hit, because she drops to the couch, stiff-backed and silent.
