chapter 1
1679 Words
If secrets could rot, then Liana’s marriage had long decayed into something poisonous.
The first time she lied for Eric, it was about a missing campaign fund just a few thousand dollars, “misplaced” during a charity gala. She smiled at reporters, wore a red dress that hugged her too tightly, and said it was an error in accounting.
The fifth time, it was hush money to a waitress in Las Vegas.
Now, with her husband behind bars for fraud and embezzlement, Liana couldn’t even muster the strength to pretend anymore.
The marble floor beneath her heels felt colder than usual. Her fingers trembled slightly as she gripped the folder in her hand the last of the damage control reports. Images of Eric being escorted out of their townhouse in cuffs had been plastered across every screen in America.
Political golden couple? Try national disgrace.
She stood in the private wing of the courthouse, staring at the empty space where he once stood beside her like a proper husband. Now, the silence echoed louder than any apology he never gave.
“Mrs. Wycliff,” a deep voice called out, slicing through her thoughts.
She turned.
And froze.
Dimitri Volkov.
Of all people, she hadn't expected him to show up today.
Dimitri Volkov was all sharp lines and silent power.
His presence alone made the hallway feel too narrow. Tall, dressed in a dark tailored coat that looked like it cost more than her yearly wardrobe, he moved like a man who never had to chase anything because everything came to him.
Liana straightened instinctively. “Mr. Volkov,” she said, carefully composed. “This is... unexpected.”
He gave a slight smile just enough to mock her. “Your husband made enemies in very high places, Mrs. Wycliff. You should be careful where you stand.”
“I’m not standing anywhere,” she replied quickly. “This isn’t my war.”
“Ah,” he said, voice low, “but you married into it.”
She hated that he was right.
For the past year, she’d been nothing but a shield. For Eric. For his ambitions. For his lies.
But Dimitri wasn’t here to talk about politics. She could see it in the way his eyes moved over her slow, deliberate, claiming.
“I can help you,” he said finally.
Liana narrowed her eyes. “Help me?”
“Protection. Silence. A clean slate. Everything you need to escape the wreckage your husband left behind.”
She clenched the folder tighter. “And in return?”
He stepped closer, his scent expensive, masculine, dangerously calm making her heart beat faster for reasons she didn’t like.
“In return,” Dimitri said, voice like silk over steel, “you’ll belong to me.”
Liana’s throat dried.
“Belong... how?” she asked, already knowing the answer but needing to hear it from his lips.
Dimitri’s gaze dropped slowly to her mouth, then back to her eyes. “As my wife. In name. In public. In private.”
Her heart stuttered.
“You’re out of your mind,” she whispered.
“Maybe,” he murmured, leaning closer. “But I’m also your best option.”
Liana backed up until her shoulders hit the wall.
“Why me?” she asked. “There are other women. Women who’d beg for a ring from Dimitri Volkov.”
“Exactly,” he replied. “They beg. You don’t.”
His expression softened just a little. “You hate being controlled. I admire that. But right now, you need to be controlled to survive.”
She let out a bitter laugh. “You want to protect me... by owning me?”
“No,” he said. “I want to own you so no one else can hurt you.”
Silence stretched between them. Liana hated that his words made sense. Hated that her stomach twisted not in fear, but in the worst kind of anticipation.
Her husband had thrown her to the wolves.
And this wolf? He was offering shelter. But it came at a cost.
A heavy, dangerous, intoxicating cost.
“I haven’t even signed the divorce papers,” she muttered, more to herself than him.
“You will,” Dimitri said with certainty. “I’ll handle it.”
Of course he would. A man like him didn’t ask for things he took them.
“What if I say no?”
His jaw ticked. “You won’t.”
“You don’t know me,” she challenged.
“I know enough. I know you’re tired of cleaning up your husband's messes. I know you’re smart enough to see the end coming. And I know you’re scared… but not stupid.”
He stepped back finally, giving her space to breathe. Liana sucked in a shaky breath.
“I don’t need your protection.”
“No,” Dimitri said, heading for the door. “You need salvation. Lucky for you, I have a habit of saving beautiful women from men who don’t deserve them.”
He paused at the door, looking over his shoulder.
“I’ll send someone to get your things. You’ll be moved in by tonight.”
Moved in?
She blinked. “Wait. Tonight?”
“You don’t have time, Liana,” he said simply. “The media will tear you apart by morning if you stay here.”
And just like that, he was gone.
Liana stood frozen in the middle of her silent living room.
The storm outside had quieted, but her world had only gotten louder. Dimitri Volkov Russian billionaire, media darling, and whispered nightmare had just bulldozed into her life like a force of nature.
And now… she was supposed to move in with him?
She sank onto the couch, numb. How did she get here? Just two days ago, she’d been giving polite smiles at charity events, pretending her husband wasn’t an entitled fraud with a gambling problem.
Now, she was about to be some powerful man’s… what? His wife in name? In bed?
Her cheeks flushed, but not from shame. It was the way Dimitri looked at her. Like he already owned her body and soul.
She hated how her pulse quickened thinking about it.
Her phone vibrated again. This time, it was her husband’s sister.
“They’re freezing your accounts. Do something, Liana. Call your contacts!”
Liana dropped the phone.
No one was coming to save her. Not from the press, not from the vultures in politics, and not from her collapsing marriage.
Except Dimitri.
And that scared her more than anything.
The next morning, Liana wore black. Not for mourning though her pride was certainly buried but for armor.
Dimitri’s car arrived at exactly 7:00 a.m.
She expected something simple. What pulled up was a matte black limousine, tinted like sin, humming quietly like a beast barely restrained.
The door opened before she could reach for it.
Dimitri stepped out.
Today, he wore a dark tailored suit, no tie, a hint of ink showing beneath his open collar. His eyes swept over her like a cold wind, and he gave the barest nod of approval.
She hated that it made her feel anything.
“You’re punctual,” he said.
“You’re dramatic,” she replied, slipping into the car.
He followed, amused. “You’ll find I’m many things. But never late.”
The door shut with a quiet thud, sealing her fate.
As the car pulled away, Liana kept her gaze out the window. She wasn’t ready to look at him. Not when she could still smell her old life burning behind her.
“I had your things packed,” he said. “You’ll find them at the estate.”
“How thoughtful,” she said dryly.
“You’ll learn,” Dimitri said, “that I always plan ahead. Especially when it comes to what’s mine.”
She turned sharply. “I’m not yours.”
Dimitri’s eyes flickered with something unreadable. “Not yet.”
The estate was nothing short of obscene.
Liana stared out the window as the gates parted for them, revealing a mansion that looked like it had been plucked from a royal fantasy and dropped into the Russian countryside. Wide stone steps, gothic arches and windows like eyes.
It was cold and grand. Dangerous even.
Just like the man beside her.
When the car stopped, Dimitri got out first. He didn’t offer a hand. Good. Because she didn’t need one.
Liana stepped out, heels clicking against the polished stone. A butler appeared from nowhere and bowed his head, murmuring in Russian.
“She’ll be staying in the west wing,” Dimitri instructed. “My room is across the hall.”
Liana whipped her head toward him. “Excuse me?”
“We’re engaged, remember?” he said, starting up the steps. “It has to look real.”
She caught up with him. “That doesn’t mean you get proximity privileges.”
He stopped. Turned.
“There’s no ‘look real’ without shared space,” he said. “People will expect to see us together. Hear things.”
She flushed.
He leaned in, voice low and lethal. “I’ll never touch you without your consent, Liana. But make no mistake when you agree...there won’t be an inch of you I won’t own.”
Liana’s heart was a confused mess of fury and something darker something dangerously close to interest.
She followed him into the house, the air cool and fragrant with wealth. The floors gleamed like mirrors. A chandelier the size of a small car hung from the ceiling. No pictures. No warmth. Just like him.
Her room was massive, draped in silks and marble, but it felt more like a cage than a sanctuary.
“I’ll have someone bring dinner,” Dimitri said, already turning to leave.
“Why me?” she asked, stopping him at the door. “Why offer this deal to me?”
He looked over his shoulder.
“Because you were desperate,” he said simply. “And desperate women make loyal wives.”
- Writer
