Page 104 of Filthy Promises

Vince doesn’t deny it. Doesn’t confirm it, either. “What exactly are you proposing, Ms. Kuznetsov?”

“A mutually beneficial arrangement. We marry. Our families unite. The business prospers. And in private, we lead our own lives.”

I suddenly find it hard to breathe. Is she actually offering Vince exactly what he needs? A wife on paper who doesn’t care if he’s with someone else?

Someone like… me?

“An interesting proposition,” Vince says evenly. “But one that requires considerable trust between us.”

“Of course.” Anastasia’s eyes are sharp. “We would need absolute discretion from both sides. I assume your… assistant… can be trusted?”

They both look at me, and I realize with a jolt that they’re discussing me like I’m part of this arrangement. Like I’m the secret Vince would be keeping while married to her.

“Ms. St. Clair’s loyalty is not in question,” Vince growls, his voice suddenly hard.

“Good.” Anastasia smiles thinly. “Then we should discuss the practical details.”

As they begin talking business—dowries and contracts and family expectations—I sit in stunned silence.

This is insane. They’re negotiating a fake marriage right in front of me, with the unspoken understanding that Vince and I will continue… whatever this is between us.

I should be horrified. At the very least, I ought to be insulted at being treated like the mistress-in-waiting.

Instead, a tiny, terrible spark of hope flares in my chest.

If Vince married Anastasia with this arrangement, he’d get his inheritance. His father’s approval. Everything he needs to secure his position.

And maybe—just maybe—he’d also get to keep me.

The thought is as thrilling as it is pathetic. I know that if he offered me that role—the secret on the side, the woman in the shadows—I’d probably take it.

Because I’d rather have pieces of Vince Akopov than none of him at all.

God, I’m so screwed.

31

ROWAN

The car ride after dinner is painfully silent.

I stare out the window at the passing city lights, trying not to think about what just happened. Have you ever watched the world reduce you to an object?

The mistress. The secret. The shameful thing hidden in the shadows.

I sat there and justlet them.I didn’t speak up, didn’t wave my hand and shout,Hey, I’m a person, by the way. I come complete with thoughts and feelings and batteries included!

Nope. I sat. I saidnot-a-fucking-thing.

I let them choose my fate for me.

Now, Ireallymight be sick.

“You’re quiet,” Vince remarks.

I don’t look at him. “Should I not be?”

“I want to know what you’re thinking.”

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