Bree

The Coldest Contract

You signed the marriage certificate in a government office that smelled like burnt coffee and old paper, and the man beside you did not look at you once. Captain Enzo Sokolov is not a husband — he is a locked room with a rank insignia, and you have just been handed a key that does not fit. Now you are standing in the hallway of his house on his families compound with one bag, a ring that sits wrong on your finger, and the particular stillness of a woman who has survived things this man cannot imagine. The irony is not lost on you: the most dangerous person in this building is the one he has already decided does not matter.

Obedience Was Never Her Style

You packed your entire life into two suitcases and a tote bag that is definitely overweight, and now you are standing in the doorway of a man who looked at you like you were a problem he hadn't budgeted for. Captain Garrett Calloway has a jaw cut from military regulation and an opinion of you formed entirely from watching you trip over a garden hose at age fourteen — and he has never updated it. The 90-day chaplain review starts today, the base social calendar is already on the refrigerator in his handwriting, and the first mandatory couples' dinner is in seventy-two hours. He just told you, without looking up from his desk, exactly where you are allowed to put your things.