Page 87 of The King's Pawn
My stomach drops.
“There was never supposed to be one family ruling over all of us,” he continues. “Malyshko’s father just so happened to twist my family and Volkov’s so far under his knee that they complied. Fear makes for obedient dogs. Why would I let that tradition continue?”
Lena doesn’t answer immediately. Though when she does, her voice is lower too, weighted with dread. “Because it’s suicide if you don’t, Sasha. We saw what happened when Nikolai decided to stage a coup against his own father. His own family. It will be worse for us once he decides we’re the enemy.”
A heavy silence falls over them. I stay frozen on the floor, my cheek against the carpet, afraid that even the sound of my heartbeat might somehow carry through the wood.
When Sasha finally speaks again, his voice is different. It’s stripped bare. There is no diplomacy left in it, no careful phrasing or measured restraint. Just truth, cold and immovable.
“I will not let him harm her.”
The words hit me so hard, it feels like my ribs crack inward.
Her?
My breath stutters, panic and disbelief tangling in my chest. For a split second, I wonder if I misheard, if this is about someone else, some other woman unfortunate enough to be caught in his world.
Then Lena answers, and the illusion shatters completely. “You are choosing a woman over your own family. You do realize that, right?”
There’s no hesitation this time.
“Yes.”
The certainty in that single word makes my vision blur. I press my forehead harder into the floor, breathing shallowly, terrified that if I inhale too deeply, I’ll make a sound and shatter whatever fragile moment this is.
Lena exhales, slow and controlled, but I can hear what she’s trying to bury beneath it. Fear. Real fear. Not for herself alone, but for everything that stands to burn if this continues. “Alina Morozova is not worth that.”
My eyes widen, my hand flying to my mouth as if I can physically trap the cry that claws its way up my throat. My pulse thunders in my ears, loud enough that I’m certain they must hear it through the door.
They’re talking about me. There’s no mistaking it now. No room left for denial.
Shock collides with disbelief and something else that feels disgustingly like validation that makes my stomach twist with shame.
Why would there be a war because of me? Why would my name be spoken in the same breath as the Iron Pact, as if I’m capable of setting Moscow on fire? I haven’tdoneanything. I haven’t planned, plotted, threatened, or maneuvered against the Iron Pact in the slightest. I’ve barely survived the last few weeks without breaking apart completely.
I’m not a weapon.
I’m just… me.
“And that is your opinion,” Sasha replies quietly.
“You are dooming us all,” Lena says. This time, her voice fractures slightly. Enough that I know she’s afraid. Not just of what the Pact will do but of the choice her brother is making that will inevitably doom them all. He’s choosing me over the Pact. Over his own sister and against the only family he has left.
The thought lands like ice in my chest. The realization is terrifying in a way I can’t even put into words.
Why?
Why me?
I never asked him to do this, never asked him to protect me at the cost of everything he’s built.
I’m not worth that. I’ve never been. Wars aren’t started over women like me. Empires don’t crumble because of girls whowere sold before they even understood the price tag around their necks. I am collateral at best. A complication, a weakness men use to further their own agendas, not die over.
So it has to be something else.
Something uglier.
Maybe this is just another kind of cage. A more elaborate one. Maybe he’s tightening his grip, ensuring that no one else can have me. Not my father, nor the Pact or anyone who might try to reclaim ownership over what he believes is his. Possession disguised as protection. Control dressed up as sacrifice.
