“So that’s how it is?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Well then, let’s see how much he loves you,” the man declared. “I’m cutting you off from the inheritance. That includes the apartment in Chicago. I’m freezing all your bank accounts too.”

“But Papa—!” Nadya gasped. “You can’t do that!”

“Oh, I most certainly can.”

“But some of that money belonged to Mom!”

“You can check her will with the notary. Everything she owned was left to me, personally. I control all joint assets.” He leaned in and hissed through his teeth, “Understand me? If it’s true love,” he straightened again, locking eyes with Spartacus, “then let him take care of you now.”

He turned sharply and headed for the door. As he stepped over the threshold, he tossed a curt farewell over his shoulder to Spartacus’s bewildered mother: “My regards.”

Nadya collapsed into a chair, her arms limp in her lap. What now? She hadn’t just created a mess for herself—she’d dragged an innocent guy into it. Spartacus stepped closer and sat beside her, chuckling under his breath.

Nadya looked at him with sad eyes. Everyone else had left. They were alone now.

“Well, you really stirred the pot, didn’t you?” he said with a faint smirk.

But she wasn’t in the mood to laugh.

“You know what I think?” she said at last.

He looked at her curiously.

“I’ll reach out to some friends—ask them for help,” she nodded to herself, deciding out loud.

“What kind of help?”

“Financial, of course.”

“And?”

“They’ll help me leave.”

“And then?”

“What do you mean ‘then’?” Nadya frowned.

“Where are you going? Who do you have? What are you running from now?” he asked, his voice suddenly serious.

“I’ll go back to America. I’ll figure it out. Doesn’t matter who or where. I’ll just go.”

“And a young woman traveling into the unknown—that’s your plan?” he asked, eyebrows drawn tight.

“What are you, my father now? Why do you care?”

Spartacus clenched his jaw but said nothing. Why did he care, really?

She stood and walked to their room. He stayed seated for a moment, staring at the floor—then followed her.

“If you’ve decided to go your own way, I won’t stop you,” he said at last.

“Thank you. I don’t have another choice. And… I’m sorry I dragged you into all this,” she added quietly, brushing her hair.

“Yeah, sadly, you did. And that’s exactly why I can’t just let you run off wherever you feel like.”

She stood at the mirror with her back to him. She turned sharply, confused.

“What did you say?”

“Running off alone is not an option,” he said, standing firm, planting his fists on his hips.

“And what are you gonna do—chain me up?! I’m not your wife, remember?! This is all just a game!”

“Yeah? Well, my life isn’t a game!” he snapped. “You think if something happens to you, I won’t be held responsible? No, sweetheart, not happening. You do nothing without my say-so—or I call your father and hand you over. End of discussion.”

“You bastard!”

“Call me what you want. I play it safe. Now give me your passport,” he said, holding out his hand.

“You’ve got some nerve! What’s next, turn me into your slave?!” she cried, scrambling for the drawer where she kept her things.

In a single stride, Spartacus closed the distance and grabbed at the passport. She jerked away and tried to flee, but he caught her instantly, spinning her around. She lost her balance and yanked him down with her. They crashed onto the bed—once his parents’—which had been given to them as newlyweds. Spartacus usually slept on the floor, while Nadya, as a lady, had claimed the bed. Now they lay there together, tangled up. He hovered over her, his gray eyes darkening as he gripped her wrists, pinning her beneath him.