Chapter 3 - The Broken Treaty
By nightfall, the city of New Haven was ablaze with rumors, panic, and impending bloodshed.
The sudden, inexplicable cancellation of the Voss-Renard wedding sent shockwaves through the criminal underworld. For three years, the fragile peace between the Voss Syndicate and the Renard Crime Family had depended on the union of Nikolai and Celeste. By breaking the engagement twelve hours before the ceremony, Nikolai had effectively declared war on the most violent family in the Eastern seaboard.
Inside the heavily fortified Voss estate—a sprawling stone fortress situated high in the foggy hills above the city—Iris paced the length of the master bedroom.
The room was vast, furnished in dark mahogany, leather, and velvet, with floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out over the lit skyline below. Security guards stood at thirty-yard intervals along the perimeter fence outside, their assault rifles gleaming under the security floodlights.
"You're a madman," Iris said as Nikolai walked into the room, tossing his suit jacket onto a leather armchair. He had unbuttoned his collar, revealing the dark ink of a serpent tattoo that wound up his neck.
"I am a pragmatic man," Nikolai replied smoothly, walking to the crystal decanter on the sideboard and pouring himself two fingers of amber bourbon. He didn't offer her any; he had already instructed the kitchen staff that no alcohol, raw seafood, or unpasteurized cheeses were to enter the house.
"Pragmatic?" Iris laughed bitterly, crossing her arms over her chest. "You just plunged this city into a gang war because of a six-week-old fetus! Do you have any idea how insane that is? I don't want to be here, Nikolai! I don't want your money, I don't want your protection, and I certainly don't want to be your mob wife!"
Nikolai set his glass down on the wooden table with a sharp click. He walked toward her slowly, his long strides closing the distance between them until she was forced to lean back against the heavy mahogany bedpost.
"You think this is about money?" he asked softly, raising his hand to trace the curve of her jawline. "You think I brought you here to parade you around like a trophy? Iris, look at me."
She tried to turn her head away, but his fingers were firm, tilting her face back up to meet his gaze.
"The moment I saw those pieces of paper on your counter," Nikolai said, his voice dropping into a raw, vulnerable register she had never heard before, "the world I built ceased to matter. The land, the money, the Syndicate—it’s all dirt compared to what you are carrying. My father had four wives and twelve children, and he loved none of them. He used us like pawns. I swore I would never let my child be born into a house where he wasn't the absolute priority."
"Then let me go raise him in peace!" Iris pleaded, her voice cracking. "In my small apartment! With my flower shop!"
"Your flower shop is currently being watched by six Renard hitmen," Nikolai revealed, his eyes narrowing. "Do you think Old Man Renard is stupid, Iris? The moment I canceled the wedding, his intelligence network began searching for the reason. They found out I visited Bloom & Stem twice today. By tomorrow morning, Celeste Renard will know your name, your address, and your medical history."
Iris felt the blood drain from her face. "No..."
"Yes," Nikolai said firmly. "If you step outside these gates without my men, Celeste will cut you open just to hurt me. Is that the peace you want for our child?"
Iris sank onto the edge of the plush bed, covering her face with her hands. The horror of her reality was finally setting in. She wasn't just a florist anymore. She was the secret lover of the most dangerous man in the city, carrying his heir, caught directly in the crosshairs of a ruthless mafia feud.
Before she could answer, a heavy knock echoed against the bedroom door.
Viktor stepped inside, his expression grim, holding a silver tray with a sealed black envelope.
"From the Renards," Viktor said quietly. "Delivered by courier to the front gate."
Nikolai picked up the letter, broke the wax seal with his thumb, and unfolded the heavy parchment. He read the contents silently, his jaw tightening into iron.
"What does it say?" Iris whispered, looking up.
May you like
Nikolai didn't answer immediately. He folded the note, his eyes blazing with a cold, terrifying fire.
"Celeste wants a meeting," Nikolai said quietly. "Tomorrow at noon. At the cathedral where we were supposed to be married. She says if I don't bring the 'flower girl,' she will burn every flower shop in the tri-state area to the ground with the owners inside."
