"I know." I press my thumbnail into my index finger. "But I didn't buy it. I didn't choose any of this."
"Then why are you there? Why are you marrying him?"
The question hangs between us, heavy with everything I can't tell him. I can't explain that Roman is a Pakhan, that his world is violence and blood and bodies wrapped in plastic. I can't tell him about the shooting in the office, about watching Roman kill a man without hesitation. I can't reveal that I'm pregnant, that Roman gave me an ultimatum I couldn't refuse.
So I tell him what I can.
"Do you remember when Mama got sick?" My voice cracks slightly. "How the bills kept coming, how the insurance kept denying coverage, how I signed anything they put in front of me just to buy her more time?"
Alexei nods, his jaw tight.
"The debt from that was crushing me. One hundred and fifty thousand dollars, Alexei. With interest rates designed to make sure I could never pay it off. I was working three jobs and barely making minimum payments. I couldn't afford to keep you here,couldn't afford to bring you back. I was drowning, and I couldn't see any way out."
I watch understanding start to dawn in his eyes, but I'm not finished.
"Then I got the temp job at Sokolov Financial Group. It paid triple my normal rate. Enough to finally make progress on the debt, enough to send real money home. And Roman…" I pause, choosing my words carefully. "Roman offered to help. To pay for Babushka Sasha's surgery. To bring you back to America for school. To give you opportunities I could never afford on my own."
"In exchange for what?" Alexei's voice is sharp, suspicious. He's sixteen but not stupid.
"In exchange for marrying him." The truth tastes bitter on my tongue. "For giving our child his name."
Alexei's eyes drop to my still-flat stomach, and I watch shock ripple across his face. "You're pregnant?"
"Yes." I press my hand protectively over my abdomen. "I know this all seems sudden and strange. I know you don't understand. But everything I've done, every choice I've made, has been to keep our family safe. To give you and Babushka the future you deserve."
"By selling yourself to some rich guy?" His anger is back, but softer now, edged with concern rather than accusation.
"By making impossible choices with no good options." I turn to face him fully, needing him to see the truth in my eyes. "I'm not a victim, Alexei. I chose this. Maybe not for the right reasons,maybe not the way I would have wanted. But I chose it. And Roman… he's not what you think."
"What is he, then?"
I think about Roman's hands on my body, the way he looks at me like I'm something precious and dangerous all at once. I think about his cold blue eyes when he's handling business, the controlled violence coiled beneath his expensive suits. I think about the gentleness he shows me, the vulnerability he hides from everyone else.
"He's complicated," I finally say. "And dangerous. And not always good. But he protects what's his, Alexei. And now that includes you."
My brother studies me for a long moment, his intelligent mind working behind those blue eyes. "Do you love him?"
The question catches me off guard.Do I love Roman Sokolov?I'm wildly attracted to him, that much is undeniable. My body responds to his presence with embarrassing eagerness, my pulse quickening every time he enters a room. But love? Love is supposed to be simple, uncomplicated. What I feel for Roman is neither of those things.
"I don't know," I admit. "But I'm trying to make this work. For all of us."
Alexei's anger seems to drain away, leaving only exhaustion. He looks so young suddenly, so much like the little boy I used to read bedtime stories to. "I just want you to be happy, Eva. You've sacrificed so much for us. You deserve to be happy."
My throat tightens with unshed tears. "I am happy. Or I'm trying to be. Will you come back to the estate? Let me take care of you the way I've always wanted to?"
He hesitates, then nods. "Okay. But if this Roman guy hurts you, I don't care how big his house is. I'll find a way to make him pay."
The fierce protectiveness in his voice makes me smile despite everything. "Deal."
We climb back inside, where Megan is pretending not to have been listening at the window. She helps us pack Alexei's few belongings, her usual chatter subdued. When everything is loaded into his worn duffel bag, she pulls me aside.
She hugs me tightly, and I memorize the vanilla scent of her body spray, the warmth of her embrace. My best friend, my anchor, the person who made America feel like home. I'm losing her, and we both know it.
The security detail is waiting downstairs, the black SUVs idling at the curb. Alexei's eyes widen slightly at the sight, but he doesn't comment. We're loading his bag into the trunk when my phone rings.
A Russian number I don't recognize.
My stomach drops as I answer. "Hello?"
