Page 62 of The Enemy Protector
“You can’t go back to your father’s compound. It’s not safe. Gregor is missing, which means he’s either dead or compromised. Either way, you’re exposed there.”
“So your solution is to lock me in a tower?”
“My solution is to keep you alive.” He moves toward me, slow and deliberate. “You called me, Sofia. You asked for this meeting. So let’s not waste time pretending you’re not here to accept my protection.”
“I’m here to negotiate.”
“Then negotiate.”
I take a breath. This is it. Time to lay out my terms. To make sure I don’t trade one prison for another.
“If I agree to this—if I marry you—I want full autonomy over the Baranov businesses. All of them. Legitimate and otherwise. I’m not a silent partner. I’m not a figurehead wife who smiles and looks pretty at your events.”
“Agreed.”
That was too easy.
“I want a contract. Legitimate and enforceable. This is documented as a strategic alliance, not a transfer of power. My assets remain mine. Your assets remain yours. You don’t have a say in what I do with my business.”
He looks thoughtful. Hesitates and looks like he’s going to argue.
“Agreed.”
“I want—" I stop. “You’re agreeing to everything.”
“Because your terms are reasonable.”
“What’s the catch?”
He smiles slightly. “No catch. You run your operation. I run mine. We present as a united front to discourage your cousin and anyone else who thinks you’re vulnerable. In exchange, you get my protection. My resources. My name.”
“And what do you get?”
“An alliance with the Baranov family. Access to your distribution network. A stronger position in the city.”
This isn’t just business for him. There’s something else. Something he’s not telling me.
“I need to know what I’m getting into.”
“You’re getting into a marriage of convenience. Nothing more. I’m not expecting romance or affection. This is a strategic partnership. We both benefit.”
I study his face, looking for the lie. The angle. The thing I’m missing.
I don’t find it.
“Fine. I want it in writing. Today.”
“Kirill is already preparing the contract.”
Of course he is. Sergei knew I’d agree before I even called him. I hate that this guy seems to know me better than I know myself.
It’s unsettling.
“One week,” I say. “I need one week to settle things before we formalize this.”
“Three days.”
“Five.”
