Three weeks.
That's how long you have known you're married. No wedding. No dress. No vows. Not even a proper introduction. Your parents had only told you once almost everything had already been decided with you, page by page. Old family acquaintances. Security. Cover. A normal life on the outside.
Then her father had slid a photo across the table.
Vasile Ungaro.
Career military. Captain. There had barely been any more information than that. A few days later came papers. And a ring.
Now that very ring sits on your finger while your father's car pulls up in front of the heavily guarded gate of a military base. A suitcase lands beside you. The car drives away.
Great.
⸻
The check-in takes an eternity. ID. Documents. Security check. The soldier behind the desk reads your name. Then again. His gaze drifts to your ring.
"Captain Ungaro?"
"Yes."
"You want to see him?"
"I'm supposed to go to him."
That seems to be the better explanation.
"Understood."
Why that sounds like a condolence, you would rather not know.
⸻
A soldier leads you across the grounds. Gray buildings. Armored vehicles. Armed personnel. Then a training area opens up ahead of you. A unit is training there. And one of the men is impossible to miss.
Almost two meters. Black shirt. Combat trousers. Tattooed forearms. Weapon across his chest.
Vasile.
The photo hadn't conveyed how intimidating he actually is.
Beside him stands a blonde soldier. Livia. Very close. She says something to Vasile and casually places a hand on his upper arm. Vasile doesn't react to it. He steps out from under it.
Another soldier notices you first. Abram. His gaze lands on you. On the suitcase. On the ring.
"Oh, shit."
Livia turns around. Vasile doesn't.
"Captain Ungaro,"
the soldier beside you addresses him.
No reaction.
"Captain."
Vasile finally raises his head. His brilliantly blue eyes meet yours. No surprise. No curiosity. No warmth. His gaze drifts to your suitcase. Then to the ring. Back to your face. As if he were inspecting a delivery he didn't order.
Abram looks back and forth between them.
"Please tell me that's not—"
"It is."
Vasile's voice is deep. Rough. Ice-cold.
Livia's head whips toward him.
"What is she?"
Vasile slowly removes his gloves.
"My wife."
Silence. Livia laughs once, short.
"Your wife?"
"On paper."
That lands. Abram grimaces.
"Jesus, Vasile."
Vasile ignores him. Livia, on the other hand, now sizes you up completely shamelessly from head to toe.
"You got married."
"No."
Livia points at you.
"She's wearing a ring."
"I signed."
"That's called getting married."
"Call it whatever you want."
Livia's mouth curves upward. Almost relieved. She steps closer to Vasile and places her hand on his upper arm again.
"So not a real marriage."
Vasile glances briefly at her hand. He steps back.
"An assignment."
His eyes find you again.
"Nothing more."
Abram mutters:
"Maybe somebody should have warned her. Would be kinder."
Vasile:
"Quiet."
Livia now smiles openly. Not friendly. She only lets go of Vasile's arm when she herself wants to, and takes two steps toward you.
"Livia."
She doesn't offer her a hand.
"We work together."
Her gaze falls demonstratively on the ring.
"Very closely."
"Livia."
Vasile's warning is quiet. She looks over her shoulder at him.
"What? I'm introducing myself."
"You have."
Livia ignores the hint. Her gaze returns to you.
"You should know that Vasile usually isn't home."
A pause.
"We're away together a lot."
Abram raises an eyebrow.
"Subtle."
Livia smiles.
"Wasn't my intention."
Vasile shoulders his weapon.
"Enough."
Livia turns to him.
"She should be allowed to know who her husband spends his time with."
Vasile's gaze turns cutting.
"I said enough."
Livia holds his gaze. Then she smiles.
"Of course, Captain."
The emphasis is far too familiar.
Vasile walks toward you. Slowly. Controlled. He stops in front of you. Up close, the coldness in his face is almost worse. His gaze falls on her suitcase.
"That's everything?"
Abram briefly closes his eyes.
"Damn, you're really good with women."
Vasile ignores him. You merely get another appraising look.
"Good."
He takes your suitcase. No greeting. No extended hand. No nice to meet you. Nothing.
"You'll get your own room."
His voice remains completely matter-of-fact.
"My office is off-limits. My equipment too."
Brief pause.
"When I'm gone, you don't ask where."
Abram mutters:
"Maybe at least say hello."
Vasile's eyes cut to him.
"No."
Then back to you.
"You didn't ask for this marriage."
For the first time, something almost personal comes through. Not warmth. Just a sober statement.
"Neither did I."
His gaze briefly falls on her ring.
"So we keep it simple."
A pause.
"You expect nothing from me."
His blue eyes meet hers.
"I expect nothing from you."
Livia stands a few meters away. She crosses her arms and smiles contentedly.
"That shouldn't be particularly difficult."
Abram looks at her.
"Livia."
"What?"
She looks demonstratively at Vasile.
"At least I know him."
Vasile's jaw tightens.
"Training."
Livia stays put.
"Vasile—"
Now he looks at her. Ice-cold.
"That wasn't an invitation to discuss."
Livia's smile briefly disappears.
"Understood, Captain."
Vasile is already turning away. your suitcase in his hand. After a few steps he stops without looking back.
"Come."
Abram watches you go. Then looks at Livia. Then back at Vasile.
"This is going to be a really relaxing honeymoon."
Vasile simply keeps walking.
"Ten kilometers."
Abram freezes.
"What?! It was five before!"
"Now it's ten."
"Why?!"
Vasile doesn't even look back.
"You're talking."
Behind them, Livia crosses her arms tighter. Her gaze doesn't follow you. It follows Vasile. And the expression in it makes one thing pretty clear: A ring is definitely not going to stop her from looking after him.