Chapter 4: Terms and Conditions

The second meeting wasn’t arranged by them.

It never was.

Viktoria Romanova stood near the entrance of the large living room, her posture straight, her expression composed. The atmosphere was different from the café—warmer, heavier, filled with expectation.

Families did that.

They filled spaces with things no one said out loud.

Across the room, voices blended into polite conversation.

Her parents.

His mother.

A few relatives.

Carefully chosen words. Measured smiles.

Everything looked perfect.

Everything felt… staged.

“You’re quiet.”

The voice came from beside her.

She turned slightly.

Vladimir Volkov stood there, as composed as ever.

Dark suit. Sharp presence. Unreadable expression.

“I usually am,” she replied.

A pause.

“You’re uncomfortable,” he observed.

She didn’t deny it.

“This isn’t exactly my environment,” she said.

“Understandable.”

Silence settled between them again.

But unlike before—

this silence wasn’t empty.

It carried awareness.

“We don’t have to stay long,” he said after a moment.

Her eyes shifted toward him briefly.

“That’s not how this works,” she replied.

“No,” he agreed.

“But it can.”

That made her look at him properly.

For a second—

just a second—

something about him felt… familiar again.

Not his face.

Not his voice.

Just—

the way he said things.

She looked away first.

“It’s fine,” she said quietly.

Across the room, his mother noticed them.

“Vladimir,” she called gently.

He turned.

“We should begin,” she added.

Of course.

This wasn’t a meeting.

It was a decision waiting to be confirmed.

They moved toward the center of the room.

Everyone settled.

The air shifted.

Expectation replaced conversation.

His mother spoke first.

“I believe it’s best if we discuss things openly,” she said.

No one disagreed.

That was the point.

Viktoria sat beside her parents.

Vladimir sat across from her.

Their eyes met briefly.

Then moved away.

“We’re all here because we think this is a suitable match,” her father began.

“Compatibility, background, values,” her mother added.

Words.

Familiar.

Repeated.

Viktoria listened.

But didn’t engage.

Because she had heard all of this before.

Different people.

Same sentences.

“What matters most,” Vladimir’s mother continued, “is understanding expectations.”

Her gaze shifted to both of them.

“Marriage is not just an agreement between families.”

A pause.

“It is between two individuals.”

That was the only honest thing said so far.

Viktoria spoke then.

“We’ve already discussed that.”

The room quieted slightly.

Her father looked at her.

“You have?”

“Yes.”

His mother looked at Vladimir.

“And?”

He answered simply.

“We are aligned.”

That wasn’t what they expected.

But it wasn’t wrong.

“Aligned in what sense?” someone asked.

Vladimir didn’t hesitate.

“In expectations.”

Silence.

He continued.

“This will be a structured marriage.”

A shift in the room.

Subtle.

But clear.

“No unnecessary emotional obligations,” he added.

“Clear boundaries. Mutual respect.”

Viktoria didn’t react outwardly.

But inside—

something settled.

Because he said it exactly as it was.

No pretending.

No illusions.

Her mother looked uncertain.

“That sounds… very formal,” she said carefully.

“It is,” Viktoria replied.

All eyes turned to her.

She didn’t hesitate.

“I think clarity is better than assumptions,” she said.

Her father frowned slightly.

“Marriage is more than clarity.”

“It can be,” she replied.

A pause.

“But it doesn’t have to be.”

The room fell silent.

Not uncomfortable.

Just—

unexpected.

Vladimir watched her.

Carefully.

Because she wasn’t speaking defensively.

She was stating a decision.

And that—

was rare.

“What about the future?” his mother asked gently.

Viktoria met her gaze.

“We define it as needed.”

Another pause.

“And if things change?” she continued softly.

“Then we adjust.”

Simple.

Too simple, perhaps.

But not unrealistic.

Vladimir spoke again.

“There will be no interference in personal choices unless necessary.”

Her father looked at him sharply.

“Necessary according to whom?”

“Situation,” Vladimir replied.

Not dismissive.

Not aggressive.

Just—

final.

A long silence followed.

Because there was nothing emotional to argue with.

Only logic.

And logic didn’t offend.

It unsettled.

Viktoria leaned back slightly.

This should have felt strange.

But it didn’t.

It felt—

easy.

And that, more than anything else—

was unexpected.

Her mother exhaled softly.

“If both of you are certain…”

“We are,” Vladimir said.

Viktoria didn’t speak.

But she didn’t disagree.

That was enough.

The conversation shifted after that.

Dates.

Formalities.

Details.

Everything moved quickly.

Too quickly.

But neither of them stopped it.

Because there was nothing to stop.

This wasn’t emotional.

It was decided.

At some point, the room relaxed again.

Conversations resumed.

But the decision had already been made.

Viktoria stood near the window later.

The same feeling from before returned.

Not discomfort.

Just—

distance.

“You’re thinking too much.”

She turned.

Vladimir stood beside her again.

“I usually don’t,” she said.

“Then why now?”

A pause.

She looked out the window.

“I expected this to feel different,” she admitted.

“And?”

“It doesn’t.”

He studied her quietly.

“That’s not a bad thing.”

“No,” she said softly.

“It’s not.”

Another silence.

This one—

lighter.

“You’re not questioning it,” he said.

“Neither are you.”

“That’s because I don’t see a reason to.”

She looked at him.

For a moment—

that same strange feeling flickered again.

Unfamiliar.

And yet—

not entirely.

She looked away.

“Neither do I,” she said.

And that—

was the most honest thing she had said all day.

Because this wasn’t about love.

Or trust.

Or hope.

It was about something much simpler.

An agreement.

And sometimes—

that was easier than anything else.

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