"Your grandmother needs heart surgery. Expensive surgery that you can't afford even with this job." I watch her crumble, hate myself for it, but don't stop. "I'll pay for it. Cover all medical expenses. Bring Alexei to America for the best engineering education available. MIT, Stanford, wherever he wants to go. Full ride, no debt."
"You bastard." The words are barely a whisper.
"Yes." I don't deny it. "I'm a bastard who's offering you everything you need to save your family. All you have to do is marry me and let me protect you and our child."
She's crying now, silent tears streaming down her face, and I want to pull her into my arms, to comfort her. But I can't show weakness. Not now. Not when I'm so close to getting what I want.
"Why?" Her voice breaks. "Why does it matter so much? You could just… pay child support. See the baby sometimes. Why do you need to marry me?"
Because the thought of her with another man makes me want to commit murder. Because I want her in my bed every night, want to wake up to her face every morning. Because she's mine and I don't share what's mine.
But I don't say any of that. Instead, I tell her a truth that's easier to admit. "Because no child of mine will grow up without my name. Without my protection. Without knowing who their father is."
Eva slides down the door until she's sitting on the floor, her knees pulled to her chest. She looks so young, so vulnerable, and the possessive need to protect her nearly overwhelms me. I cross to her, kneeling down so we're eye level.
"I know you hate me right now." I cup her face, my thumb wiping away her tears. "I know you think I'm a monster. But I will keep you safe. I will keep our child safe. I will give you everything you need."
"Except my freedom." Her brown eyes meet mine, and the pain in them cuts deeper than any blade.
"Your freedom for your family's survival." I stand, offering her my hand. "That's the deal, Eva. Take it or leave it."
She stares at my hand for a long moment. I can see her mind working, calculating, weighing her options. Finally, she takes it, letting me pull her to her feet.
"I need time to think."
"You have until Monday." I release her hand, already missing the contact. "That's three days. Decide, Eva. But know this. I'm not letting you go. One way or another, you're mine now."
She turns toward the door, her hand on the handle, when it suddenly slams open.
Daria Borisova stands in the doorway, her face white with shock and rage, her ice-blue eyes darting between Eva and me. "Move in with you?" Her voice is shrill, disbelieving. "You're demanding that she move in with you? Your secretary?"
Fuck.
23
EVA
Isit on the worn couch in my cramped apartment, staring at the peeling paint on the opposite wall. The curtain that used to divide this space from Megan's bedroom hangs limp and forgotten, a reminder of the life I'm leaving behind. My suitcase sits half-packed in the corner, clothes spilling out like I couldn't decide what version of myself to bring into Roman Sokolov's world.
I should run.
The thought forms with crystalline clarity, sharp enough to cut. Pack a bag, drain my meager savings account, disappear into a city big enough to swallow me whole. I could lose myself in the city, find a cash-only job, become someone else entirely.
But even as the fantasy takes shape, reality crushes it like glass beneath a boot.
Roman Sokolov doesn't lose things that belong to him. And I'm carrying his child, which makes me his in a way that transcends any choice I might make. His security detail knows my routines, my friends, every place I go. They've been following me forweeks, cataloging my movements with professional efficiency. Where could I possibly hide that his reach wouldn't find me? What corner of this city exists beyond his influence?
I press my hand against my still-flat stomach, feeling nothing yet but knowing everything has changed. There's a life growing inside me, half mine and half his. Roman's heir. The thought makes my chest tighten with emotions I can't untangle. Fear, yes. But also something else, something I'm not ready to examine.
My phone sits on the coffee table, silent and accusing. I haven't called Roman back since yesterday's ultimatum. Move into his estate. Marry him. Give our child his name and the protection of his organization. Or watch my family suffer the consequences of my defiance.
The cruelty of it steals my breath. He's weaponizing my love for Alexei and Babushka Sasha, using my desperation against me like a blade pressed to my throat. And I hate him for it. Hate how well he understands me, how precisely he's identified my pressure points. Hate that his offer is so tempting despite the poison wrapped inside it.
Babushka Sasha needs surgery. Without it, her heart will fail. It's not a question of if, but when. And Alexei, my brilliant sixteen-year-old brother with his engineering dreams and top marks in physics, deserves better than scraping by in our grandmother's cramped apartment, counting kopeks for heating, eating day-old bread.
Roman dangled them like bait, and I'm too trapped to do anything but bite.
I stand and move to the window, looking out at the street below. A black SUV idles at the curb, the same one that's been there every day this week. Roman's security, making sure I don't do anything foolish. Making sure I understand that running isn't an option.
