My study feels cold and empty after the warmth of Eva's presence. I pour vodka, neat, and settle behind my desk. The evening replays in my mind, every word, every touch, every moment of vulnerability we shared. For a few hours, I wasn't thePakhan. I was just Roman, a man falling for a woman who sees past the monster to something worth saving.
My phone rings, shattering the peace. The Moscow number makes my stomach clench with dread.
"Da," I answer.
"Roman." The voice belongs to one of my contacts back in Moscow. "I've just found out that delegates from the council have concerns about your ability to remain Pakhan."
"Da, I know that," I grumble irritably.
"Yes, but did you know they are on their way to America to observe you in person?"
I almost drop the phone in surprise. Fuck, this isn't good. Not good at all.
39
EVA
The past two weeks blur together in my memory like watercolors bleeding across canvas. Wedding preparations have consumed every waking moment. Tomorrow. Tomorrow, I am getting married. The word sits heavily in my chest, equal parts anticipation and terror.
But today isn't about me. Today is about Katya.
I stand at the estate's front windows, my hands pressed against the cold glass, watching the circular drive for Roman's SUV. He left before dawn with his full security detail, his tension palpable despite his careful control. I've never seen him this vulnerable, this openly afraid. Katya means everything to him. She's the last piece of innocence from his childhood, the only person he loves without complication or darkness. And now she's being forced to abandon her life in Moscow because Abram Yakovlev discovered Roman's greatest weakness.
My hand drifts to my stomach beneath my cream-colored sweater. Our child grows there, another vulnerability Roman will have to protect. Another target for his enemies to exploit.The thought makes my throat tight with fear I'm trying desperately not to examine.
The SUV finally appears through the estate gates, and my pulse quickens. I smooth my sweater over my hips, acutely aware of how the fabric clings to my fuller breasts, the slight curve of my belly that's becoming harder to hide. I want to make a good impression on Roman's sister, want her to see me as more than just the secretary who trapped her brother with a pregnancy.
Roman enters first, his broad shoulders filling the doorway, his blue eyes immediately finding mine across the foyer. Even exhausted and worried, he's devastatingly handsome in his charcoal suit, and my body responds with embarrassing eagerness. Heat floods my cheeks as I remember our date by the pond, the way he felt inside me, the controlled violence of his thrusts that made me forget my own name.
Then Katya steps through the door, and my breath catches.
She's ethereal. That's the only word that fits. Tall and willowy, with the same piercing blue eyes as Roman but softened with warmth his have lost. Her dark hair falls in waves around her shoulders, and there's something almost otherworldly about her beauty—like a painting of a saint come to life. She's wearing a simple dress beneath her coat, nothing expensive or designer, and somehow, that makes her even more striking.
"Eva." Roman's voice is rough with emotion as he guides his sister toward me. "This is Katya.Sestrichka, this is Eva. My fiancée."
Katya's face breaks into a genuine smile, and she pulls me into an embrace that catches me completely off guard. She smells like paint and something floral, and her hug is warm and real in away that makes my chest ache. When she pulls back, her blue eyes are bright with tears.
"I'm so happy to meet you," she says in accented English, her voice soft and musical. "Roman has told me so much about you. About the baby." Her gaze drops to my stomach, and her smile widens. "I'm going to be an aunt.Bozhe moy, I can't believe it."
The genuine joy in her expression makes something tight in my chest loosen. "I'm happy to meet you too. Roman talks about you constantly."
"Only good things, I hope." Katya's laugh is light, teasing, and I see Roman's expression soften in a way I've never witnessed before. With his sister, the cold mask he wears drops completely, revealing the man beneath the monster.
We settle Katya in one of the guest suites, and I leave her to rest from the long flight. But as I descend the stairs, I catch Roman watching me from the hallway below. His gaze tracks the sway of my hips, drops to my ass in these jeans, and when our eyes meet, the heat in his expression makes my thighs clench with awareness.
"Thank you," he says quietly when I reach him. "For being kind to her."
"Of course." I want to touch him, to smooth away the tension still visible in his shoulders. "She's lovely, Roman. I can see why you've protected her so fiercely."
His hand cups my face, his thumb tracing my lower lip in a gesture that's becoming familiar. "Tomorrow, you become my wife. Tomorrow, I can finally have you in my bed every night."
The promise in his voice sends heat straight to my core. My nipples tighten beneath my sweater, and I see his gaze drop to notice, his jaw tightening with restraint. His other hand slides down to my hip, pulling me closer, and I feel the hard length of him pressing against my stomach. "You're making it very difficult to be patient,solnyshko."
Before I can respond, Alexei's voice echoes from the sitting room. Roman steps back with visible effort, adjusting himself discreetly, and I force my breathing to steady.
Dinner that evening is tense from the start.
We gather in the formal dining room with Roman at the head of the table, me at his right, and Katya beside me. Alexei sits across from his future sister-in-law, his sixteen-year-old enthusiasm barely contained as he peppers her with questions about Moscow, about art, about everything. Lev and Irina complete the circle, and I'm acutely aware of Irina's presence like a weight pressing against my shoulders.
