Roxana pressed her lips together, holding the box tightly against her chest as though it were something alive, something that might slip away if her grip loosened even slightly.
"Did you really apply for the marriage license?" she asked, her voice quieter now, stripped of its earlier sharpness.
Alexander nodded. "I don't trust your father anymore. He definitely will—"
"I get it," Roxana cut in gently.
She didn't need him to finish. She knew her father far too well; she knew the kind of man he was when his authority was challenged, when his pride was wounded. He wasn't someone who simply let things go. He erased them. Permanently, if necessary.
She moved to sit on the bed, pulling the shirt closed over herself, though her attention remained fixed on the ring in her hands. For a long moment, she said nothing.
"I'm putting your life in danger," she admitted softly.
