CHAPTER FOUR

Myra

The sound that came out of me wasn't a laugh; it was a sharp cackle that ripped through the tense silence of Luca's bedroom. It was the kind of sound you make when the world has tilted so far off its axis and laughing you ass out was the only response. 

"You're insane," I choked out, wiping at the corner of my eye. "You've finally lost it. Zyran? Seriously?"

But my brother's face remained stoic, unamused. There was no answering smile, no shared joke in his eyes. He was like a  statue, carved from unwavering resolve. He was dead serious.

He was actually, seriously proposing that I—Myra Rossi, the girl who still had fucking stuffed animals (no offense to Mr. Dragon)  on her bed—was going to marry Zyran Theon. The man whose gaze could freeze hell over. The man who had visited our house for years and had never once strung more than two words together in my direction. The man whose very silence felt like a physical dismissal, making me feel like a stranger in my own home, fucking non-existent. 

"Absolutely not," I stated, the humor vanishing from my voice, replaced by a cold dread. "Hell no, Luca. I am not getting married to him. I'd rather take my chances with the old man."

"You don't mean that," he said, his voice low and steady. "You will marry him."

"I won't! You can't make me!" I crossed my arms, a childish gesture, but it was all I had.

"Look at me, Myra." He stepped forward, his large hands coming down on my shoulders, his grip firm, anchoring me. "If you don't marry him, your only other option is to run. And we both know you won't. You'd never leave Mom. You'd never leave our family to face the fallout alone. You're not built that way. You're loyal to a fault."

His words hit their mark with painful accuracy. The image of my mother's heartbroken face, or dad’s disappointment, or Luca shouldering the wrath of the Bratva alone—it was unthinkable. He was right; I was trapped and that Ice man was my only reasonable option.

"But he's... Zyran," I protested, my voice cracking with frustration. "He doesn't even see me, Luca! Not a bit! And he's so fucking arrogant, walking around like he's a god and the rest of us are just bugs on his windshield. I don't like him, and he has made it abundantly clear that I don't exist when I'm near him! How is that a solution?"

"And that's the whole point!" Luca insisted, giving my shoulders a slight shake. "Don't you get it? The fact that he is completely, utterly indifferent to you is what makes him perfect. He's the safest, most logical choice we have. He's a fortress, Myra. And right now, you need a fortress, not a husband. Our family has not made ties to the Theon family yet, he is only my friend but not related by marriage, so it’s more than valid and would keep the Bravata away from you. 

My mind was reeling. "What are you even talking about? What 'point'?" 

He took a deep breath, as if laying some kind of complex business strategy. "This is the plan, and you need to listen carefully. You will marry Zyran. It will be a contract marriage, strictly for a period of one year. Maybe less, if Dad and the Bratva back off sooner. The moment the threat is gone, the moment you're no longer in the crosshairs, you divorce him. It's a temporary shield. Then, and only then, you can marry someone else. Someone normal. Someone stable. Someone better who would give you that same protection even more, I will go to the ends of the earth to find that person but for now. I chose Zyran because I know, for a fact, that he has no personal interest in you. He won't touch you. He won't make any demands. He'll just... provide cover. It's a business deal, pure and simple."

The cold, hard logic of it was both terrifying and strangely comforting. A marriage in name only. 

My shoulders slumped under his hands, the fight seeping out of me, sieved out by reality "But... have you even spoken to him about this insane idea?" I whispered . "Do you honestly think a man like Zyran Theon would ever agree to this? To a fake marriage?"

"Not yet," Luca admitted, his jaw tightening. "But I will. Tonight, when I meet the guys. And he will agree." A dark, unreadable emotion flickered in his eyes, a glimpse of the ruthless Alchemist he was with everyone else except me. "He owes me a favor."

The finality in his voice was absolute. I could only nod slowly, my mind a whirlwind of fear and reluctant acceptance. This was my fate. A business transaction brewed by my brother with the most intimidating man I had ever known.

Seeing my surrender, Luca's expression softened. He pulled me into a rough, awkward hug, the scent of his cologne and the faint, metallic hint of blood from his knuckles and shirt filling my senses. He kissed the top of my head, a familiar gesture from our childhood. "Don't worry, munchkin," he murmured into my hair, using the old nickname he hadn't uttered in years for the second time. "Everything is going to be fine. I've got this. Zyran will agree."

He pulled back, his hands still on my arms, and gave me a smile that was meant to be reassuring. But it didn't quite reach his eyes, which were shadowed with a worry he wouldn't voice.

"He has to."