Page 7 of Auctioned to the Russian Pakhan
“Let them try.” He finally looked down at her, and the predatory smile on his lips made her stomach flip. “By the time they figure out where you are, it’ll be too late. You’ll already be mine.”
Mine. The possessive way he said it sent another unwelcome shiver through her, and she hated herself for it. This man had bought her, was forcing her into marriage against her will, and her body was still responding to him like he was some kind of dark fantasy come to life.
“I won’t sign anything,” she said desperately. “You can’t make me.”
His smile widened, showing teeth. “Watch me.”
The clerk looked up, clearly uncomfortable with the obvious tension between them. “Sir, if the lady is unwilling...”
“The lady is being dramatic,” Matvei said smoothly, his public facade sliding into place like a mask. “Pre-wedding nerves. You understand.”
“I am not having a pre-wedding anything!” Irina snapped. “This man kidnapped me! He’s forcing me to...”
Matvei’s hand moved to the small of her back, fingers digging in just hard enough to make her gasp. The clerk couldn’t see the grip, couldn’t see the way his touch was both threat and promise.
“Sweetheart,” he said, his voice honey-sweet and utterly terrifying, “you’re making a scene.”
The endearment was a warning, and they both knew it. Irina’s mind raced as she weighed her options. She could keep fighting, keep screaming, hope someone would intervene. But this was clearly a setup, the clerk was probably paid off, and making more noise would only give Matvei an excuse to make good on his earlier threat.
Or she could play along. Let him think he’d won while she figured out how to turn this to her advantage.
The thought that had been brewing since she’d first recognized him suddenly crystallized into something concrete. What if she could be the spy who infiltrated the Volkov organization? What if she could gather enough intelligence to finally give her family the upper hand they needed?
It would be dangerous. Possibly fatal if she were caught. But it would also be the greatest contribution she could make to the family business, the ultimate proof that she was more than just the precious baby sister who needed protecting.
“Fine,” she said quietly, and felt Matvei’s grip on her waist relax slightly. “But I want these zip-ties removed first. I can’t sign anything with my hands behind my back.”
He studied her face for a long moment, clearly trying to gauge whether this was another trick. Finally, he reached into his jacket and produced a small knife, moving behind her to cut the plastic restraints.
The relief as circulation returned to her hands was immediate, but Irina barely noticed. She was too focused on the feeling of his body heat at her back, the careful way he made sure not to cut her skin as the zip-ties fell away.
“There,” he murmured, his lips close enough to her ear that she could feel his breath. “Much better.”
She turned to face him, rubbing her raw wrists, and found herself trapped between his body and the clerk’s window. He was even more imposing up close, broad shoulders blocking out the rest of the world, golden eyes focused on her with an intensity that made her feel like prey.
“This doesn’t change anything,” she said, proud of how steady her voice sounded. “I’m only doing this because I don’t have a choice.”
“I know.” Something flickered across his expression, too quick to interpret. “But you’re doing it all the same.”
The clerk cleared her throat. “If you’re ready to proceed...”
Matvei handed over what appeared to be a substantial amount of cash along with two sets of identification papers. Irina caught a glimpse of her photo on documents she’d never seen before and realized just how long he’d been planning this. The level of preparation was both impressive and terrifying.
“Sign here,” the clerk said, pushing the papers toward them. “Both of you.”
Irina stared down at the marriage license, her name already filled in next to his alias. Marcus Volkov. Even his fake identity was a barely concealed threat.
Her hand shook as she picked up the pen. This was it. Once she signed, there would be no going back. She would be legally bound to this dangerous man, trapped in whatever web he was weaving around her family.
But she would also be inside his organization. Privy to his plans, his weaknesses, his secrets. She could feed information back to her brothers, help them anticipate and counter his moves. She could be the weapon that brought down the Volkov empire from within.
The pen scratched across the paper as she signed her name with deliberate precision. Beside her, Matvei did the same, his signature bold and confident.
“Congratulations,” the clerk said with forced cheer. “You’re now legally married.”
Married. To Matvei Volkov. The man who was planning to destroy her family.
Irina looked up at her new husband and found him watching her with an unreadable expression. There was something almost like respect in his eyes, as if he recognized the courage it had taken for her to sign.
