about it first. It’s why he held a pregnant woman at gunpoint.”
I frown, and Viktor shakes his head, not wanting to talk about it. “I took care of her. She is back home and safe … for now. But Fedor won’t hesitate to hurt her or you. Right now, he is still just toying with us.”
“Lucky us, I guess.”
Viktor crosses the room in two steps and drops down in front of me, grabbing my hands from his lap. “Yes, Molly. Lucky. You and Theo were so, so lucky that all Fedor wanted to do is scare you.”
I blink at him, surprised by the sudden warmth of his skin on mine and surprised by how badly I need the human touch. I squeeze his hands so he won’t pull away.
“But I want you to be more than lucky,” he says. His blue eyes are liquid and raw, and even though I know what he is going to say, I lean in closer. “I want you to be queen.”
His voice breaks on the word and he holds my hands so tightly they hurt, but I don’t pull away.
“The men who left you open for Fedor won’t live to see tomorrow, but I need my remaining men to see you as more than just my kept woman. These men respect titles. They need to see you as my partner.”
“Viktor…” I sigh, shaking my head.
He pulls his hand away and grips my chin with his thumb and forefinger. He curls his thumb around and brushes it across the point of my chin, drawing a line down my neck. “Even if it is in appearances only, Molly. Even if it’s fake. That is still better than nothing.”
My mind cries out that I have some dignity. I can’t be fake married to Viktor again. It’s demeaning.
But then, I see Theo’s shaking body in my arms after the man left. Unbidden, the image of what could have happened flashes in my mind.
Theo could have been taken. I could have been killed. I could have never seen him again.
There is more at stake here than my dignity and my freedom. Theo’s life is at stake. My unborn child’s life is at stake. I have to think about the bigger picture, and when I step back and take it all in, I see the sense in Viktor’s proposal. It isn’t the only solution, but it is one of the easier solutions.
“Okay.” My voice is barely above a whisper, but Viktor tenses as I agree. I hold up a hand before he can say anything. “But, once this war is over, Theo and I have to be free to leave.”
“We’ll discuss that when the time comes,” Viktor says.
I narrow my eyes. “We have to be free to leave. I can’t enter into this if it’s going to end with me locked in a bedroom.”
“How do you feel about a bathroom?” he raises a brow, his mouth quirking up in a barely-there smile.
“I can’t believe you’re making jokes at a time like this.” I’m appalled, but also grateful for the lightness. The day has felt heavy. It’s nice to see him smile.
He lets my chin go and leans back. “If you really want to leave when this is over … we’ll talk about it.”
I want him to agree to my terms, but I know this is the best I can hope for right now. So, grudgingly, I nod and agree.
If Viktor’s idea of a fake marriage isn’t the best solution, it is certainly the most expedient.
By midafternoon the next day, we are standing in front of a justice of the peace—a different one from the first time we were married, though Viktor assured me he is still only an actor—and reciting our vows.
The crowd for the wedding is intimate, limited to Petr and a few other high-ranking members of the Bratva who will serve as witnesses. Viktor looks dashing in a dark gray suit that squares his shoulders and highlights his trim waist and strong thighs. My dress is simple, but white—the only thing that matters according to Viktor. The straps are thick across my shoulders and the neckline is deep, showing off a good amount of cleavage that Viktor can’t seem to stop staring at. From there, the fabric hugs my waist and then falls in a gentle A-line shape to puddle around my feet.
Simple or not, the dress is more than I ever dreamed of. Living on the streets and sleeping in shelters, I fantasized about meeting someone I