“Da.” He sounds pleased. “A lock was tempting, but that’s not your style, and someone might look at it and take it the wrong way.”

The wrong way. Because I’m heir and will eventually lead the territory. Because I can’t afford for anyone to think that I might be beholden to a partner in a way that would put them before my people. The realization makes me feel strange. I choose to focus on something simpler. “Your accent fades in and out. What’s up with that?”

“Habit.” He shrugs. “Do you have a preference?”

The fact that he’s asking me that almost makes me laugh. This is the strangest conversation I’ve ever had. “On if you have an accent or not?”

“Yeah.”

“I want what’s real.” I clear my throat. “What happens if your family changes their tune? Even if I were to marry you, there’s no way the plan will go as smoothly for the others. What happens when the Romanovs decide war is the better option?”

He takes the exit to the airport, cutting through traffic in a way that makes my stomach swoop. “That won’t happen.”

“But what if it does?”

Casimir sighs. “My uncle has his hands full with Dmitri Romanov’s daughters currently. Marrying you will allow me to prioritize my role here over dealing with that mess. They aren’t going to buckle, regardless of what he believes. That will keep him busy long enough that Carver City will be sorted.”

I can’t fathom his arrogance. As if it’s as simple as that. “I’m not going to keep your secrets. I’m going to tell Michelle and Zayne about Tatiana.”

His jaw tightens. “Tatiana can handle her own shit.”

“No love lost there?”

“She’s a pain in my ass.” He slashes a look at me. “She seduced you, knowing I’ve already claimed you. She’s lucky I don’t shoot her in the kneecap.”

I don’t know what to say to that. I don’t know what to feel. No, that’s a fucking lie. The truth is that I’m pulled between what I want and what I should do. I know what Michelle and Zayne would say. What my parents would say.

Kill Casimir and flee. Return to Carver City where I’m safe and prepare for the Romanovs to strike back.

I also know what my aunt would say. She loves me, but she’s sacrificed plenty for our territory. That’s what good leaders do—sacrifice for the greater benefit. Marriages of convenience are common enough in our world. Marrying the enemy might be slightly less common, but it’s not unheard of. As Casimir said, war is expensive.

Really, I’m just looking for an excuse to take what I want. I stare at the man who’s occupied so much of my thoughts for years now in one variation or another. Even with everything between us, I’m relaxed in the passenger seat, just like I have been so many times before.

“If we’re doing this . . . No more lies. You stop pretending to be Luke. You . . .” I suck in a breath. “No more missions or whatever for your uncle. You can’t be allied to two people, Casimir.”

He pulls up in front of the airport and puts the car in park. “Baby, you know how Romanovs work.”

“Yeah, I do. And I’m still drawing this line in the sand. What happens if your uncle decides this plan doesn’t make sense and tells you to kill me?”

Casimir shakes his head. “He wouldn’t do that.”

Judging from the rumors I’ve heard about Jovan, I’m not so sure. He’s a canny old bastard, and the Romanovs have grown astronomically in power and wealth since he inherited the rule in Russia. He’s not erratic, exactly, but you’re expendable if you aren’t a Romanov . . . and sometimes even if you are.

“Maybe not, but what if the plans don’t play out the way he wants here? If Carver City goes to war, I’m siding with my allies here, with my family. Not with yours.”

He grins. “You’ve already decided to marry me.”

“No, I haven’t. I’m just playing through scenarios.”

“Liar.” He glances at the cars swarming around us, at the people exiting and entering the doors to our right in waves. “Trust me when I tell you that it won’t come to that.”

I might trust him, but that doesn’t mean I trust the rest of his family. “What if it does? I can’t say yes to you without having an answer to this. Without you giving me your word that you won’t stand against the people I care about. Against me.”

He drums his fingers on the steering wheel. “I can’t avoid being called back to Russia from time to time. Regardless of anything else, family is family.”

I want to argue, but he’s right. No matter what happens in my life, if I somehow ended up somewhere else . . . I’d still have relationships with my parents.

Still. “That’s not really what I’m asking you.”

“I know.” He sighs. “Baby, I won’t hurt you. Not for anything. And you’d never forgive me if I hurt your family or friends. So I won’t. The rest, we’ll figure out.”

It’s not exactly a promise to stand with us against a Romanov invasion, but it’s good enough for me. “How much time do we have before your uncle starts considering war a legitimate option?”

“I don’t know. Like I said, he’s distracted with New York. That will take some time to resolve. In an ideal situation, we’d have Carver City wrapped up before then.”

Wrapped up. A Romanov match for every heir. The current territory leaders will never stand for it.

But this Romanov? He’s mine. I can admit that now. We’re two twisted plants growing toward the same bloody light, tangled with each other so thoroughly that there’s no escape. More, I don’t want to escape.

I drag in a rough breath. “We have to do this my way. My parents are going to freak out, and while we could just ride it out, that’s not the best option.” It’s what I’ve been doing for most of my life. Riding the waves and pretending they aren’t carrying me to a position of power. If I’d been actively training as an heir, would Casimir have approached me a different way?

In fact . . . if I’m going to truly step into my role as heir, that has to start now. Before we return to Carver City. “If you really mean to be my bloody right hand, then I have a task for you.”

He climbs out of the car and circles around to open my door. Casimir offers his hand. “I’m listening.”

There are people all around us, but I only have eyes for him. “I want you to secure your uncle’s word that the Belmonte territory is off limits.”

His eyes widen. “A bold demand.”

“If he really means to do this without war, then it should be an easy agreement.” Jovan might not hold to his word, but if Casimir does this for me . . . It means something. I can’t pretend it doesn’t.

Casimir plays his thumb over my knuckles. “It will take some time. I have to go to him to have this conversation, to secure this agreement. You understand?”

He’ll have to leave me, at least for a little while. I bite down on the urge to take it back, to demand he never leave my side. I guess I’ve made my choice, after all.

But if I’m going to be a territory leader, I have to prioritize the safety of my territory over my personal comfort. “I understand. Take as long as you need.”

“Not yet. I’ll see you home first.” He laces his fingers through mine and turns to lead me into the airport.

Gods, but I hope I’m not making a horrible mistake.

The trip home is shockingly comfortable. Through mutual understanding, we don’t talk private business on the plane. Instead we watch a new action movie, and Casimir spends the entire time pointing out the foolishness of the main character as he passes me the bits of the trail mix I like—peanuts and raisins—while accepting the bits I don’t love—cashews and M&Ms. There’s a Russian accent filtering his amused words now, but this is familiar enough for me to sink into it through sheer habit.

It gives me hope. That he was being honest that not all of Luke was a lie, that maybe we fit each other even better than I could have dreamed. No more lies. No more hiding the ugly parts of myself. With Casimir, they’re on full display, and he doesn’t shy from their existence. From me.