"You have two years left, Larissa."
The words landed like ice against her skin.
Larissa Petrov didn't flinch. She merely lifted her wine glass, the deep red liquid swirling as she leaned back in her chair. Across the candlelit table, her husband—Lukyan Volkov—sat with the poise of a king on his throne, cold and unreadable.
He hadn't touched his food. He rarely did when work was on his mind. Tonight, his ever-present tablet rested beside his plate, filled with unread medical charts and patient files. But his eyes weren't on the screen anymore.
They were on her.
Watching.
Assessing.
Two years left.
Twenty-four months.
Seventy-three weeks.
Five hundred and twenty days.
Not that she was counting.
"I know how long the contract lasts," she said coolly, setting her glass down. Her voice never wavered. "You don't need to remind me."
A muscle twitched in his jaw. The only crack in his otherwise perfect composure.
"You're moving things," he said.
"I like to be prepared."
"For what?"
She met his gaze, her tone razor-sharp. "Freedom."
That flicker in his eyes—brief, but unmistakable—tightened something in her chest. She shouldn't care. She couldn't care. They had agreed from the beginning: ten years of marriage, three children, and then she would walk away with her share of the fortune and her independence.
No feelings. No expectations.
It had worked—for the most part.
Until recently.
Until Lukyan started lingering longer at home. Watching her with a gaze that felt too focused, too deliberate. Asking about her day. Speaking gently. Staying for dinner.
Breaking the rules.
Larissa folded her hands in her lap. "We agreed on the terms, Lukyan. You don't get to change them now."
His eyes darkened.
"And if I already have?"
Her heart stuttered. Just for a second.
"Then we have a problem," she said.
He leaned back, exhaling through his nose with a quiet huff that was almost—almost—a laugh. "Two years is a long time, Larissa. Let's see if you still want to leave by then."
Her fingers curled beneath the table.
Because she was terrified he might be right.
Larissa retreated to her office the moment dinner ended. The silence of the room was a comfort—rich mahogany shelves, leather-bound law books, and neatly stacked case files. Here, she was in control. A corporate attorney. A woman who dealt in facts, contracts, logic.
Not emotion.
Especially not his.
But even here, she couldn't push his voice out of her mind.
"Maybe I've changed my mind."
He was never supposed to change. That was the point.
Eight years of distance. Eight years of ice. It had been easy to guard her heart against a man who never asked for it. But now…
Now he was stepping closer.
A knock came at the door. She stiffened.
"Yes?"
The door opened a crack. Lukyan's voice followed. "The kids want you to read to them."
Her chest tightened. Roman, six. Nikolai, four. Alina, two. The only pieces of this marriage that had ever truly belonged to her.
"I'll be there in a minute," she said, swallowing the emotion rising in her throat.
He didn't leave.
She glanced up.
Lukyan stood at the doorframe, arms crossed over his broad chest, his tie loosened. He looked out of place here, in her world of order and clean lines. He was too powerful. Too commanding.
"You're avoiding me," he said.
She gave a dry laugh and turned back to her computer. "If I was avoiding you, you wouldn't see me at all."
He didn't laugh. He stepped inside.
Larissa's breath caught.
He stopped in front of her desk—closer than he'd come in years. Close enough that she could smell his cologne: clean, woodsy, dark.
"Tell me something," he said, voice low. "When you leave… will you miss them?"
She didn't need to ask who them was.
Her throat tightened. "Of course I will."
He didn't move.
"And me?"
The silence stretched.
She wanted to lie. She needed to lie.
But Lukyan had always seen through her. And now, he was watching her like a man who already knew the answer.
He leaned forward, placing both hands on the desk. Caging her in. His voice was a quiet promise.
"Two years, Larissa. That's a long time to convince you to stay."
Her heart thundered.
Because for the first time since signing that contract…
She wasn't sure she wanted to leave.