Procreation.
The word hits like a slap.
For a second, everything is too loud. The room is too bright. The air too thin. I’m holding back tears hard enough that my jaw is clenched, my cheeks burning.
I shut the folder.
“You’re saying I have to have his baby,” I say. “Within two years.”
“Within two years, yes,” Alexei says. “If you refuse, the debt returns. Not just to your father. To you, as well, in some forms. We don’t spell out every detail, but you can imagine.”
“I’m not doing that,” I say immediately. “I’m not… I’m not ready for that. I’m not ready for a baby.”
Danyl tips his head. “That is your choice, of course, but not a wise one.”
“My choice is what?” I ask, my voice rising. “Marry someone I don’t know, open my legs on a schedule, or watch my dad get ruined?”
“Or killed,” Dad whispers.
“That’s not fair,” I choke out, and the tears are there, underneath the surface, pricking my eyes. The words are directed at my dad, but I can’t look at him. Instead, I turn to Danyl. “You’re using me. You’re using him.”
“We’re using circumstances,” Danyl says calmly. “Circumstances we did not create, but will use to our advantage.” He shrugs. “I’m a business man, making a decision that is good for my business.”
I look at Alexei. He’s still watching me with those cold gray eyes, like he’s evaluating a chessboard, waiting for his opponent’s next move.
“Would you force me to have sex with you?” I ask him.
He doesn’t hesitate. “No,” he says without hesitation, and keeps watching me.
My move.
But they have me at checkmate. A dull ache throbs behind my eyes.
Dad is white -knuckling the sofa arm. His breathing is shallow. “Rosie,” he says, and his voice cracks. “Please. I’m not asking you to like him and he said himself he won’t force you to do anything. And it will only be for a little while.” He smiles at me. “It’s you and me against the world, Rosie Posie, just like it’s always been.”
I flinch at the use of the childhood nickname my mother called me, and in that moment, I truly hate him. I hate the way he’s using me.
I hate myself for allowing him to use me again.
Most of all, I hate the way my chest aches because I still love him anyway.
I look at the folder again. At the word “issue,” at “procreation,” at “two--year timeline.” I’m overwhelmed, stressed, angry, and afraid. Tears are hot behind my eyes, pressing, demanding tofall. But I refuse to cry in front of these men. I won’t give them the satisfaction.
With blurry vision, I read the pages again, pretending I’m scrutinizing the words. In reality, I can’t absorb any of them, but even though I might not be good at chess, I’ve played enough cards to go for a bluff. “Okay,” I say, and the word tastes like metal. “I’ll do it. But with conditions.”
Danyl raises an eyebrow. “Conditions?”
I ignore him and instead focus on Alexei. “One,” I say, “sex is on my terms. I don’t move into your bed the second we sign some papers.” I clench my hands into fists, nails biting into my palms to stop from shaking. “The procreation clause is out. You qualify for residency by being married to me, a citizen. You don’t need a baby for that.” I pause and swallow the fear clogging my throat. I’m laying out conditions for the Bratva. The Russian mob. “If you expect me to be your wife, then treat me as a wife. Not a… a broodmare.” My voice breaks.
Alexei’s jaw tightens, and his eyes darken, but he says nothing. Just keeps watching me.
“Two,” I say after a moment, and after I find my voice again, “you keep my dad safe. No more debt, no more threats. If you hurt him, I walk away… go to the police…sue…whatever I have to do to make your life hell.”
“You don’t have that power,” Danyl says mildly, “but it’s cute that you think you do.”
“I’m not done,” I say, and my voice is shaking, but I keep going. “Three. You don’t force me to do anything illegal, or anything I don’t want to do.” I look away from him. “And no physical…intimidation.” I mean to say “violence,” but chicken out.
Alexei exhales sharply. He stares at me for a beat, and then slowly nods. “I won’t force you. And the procreation clause is out.”
