Page 153 of Filthy Promises

I exhale slowly. At least that’s one thing going right. Rowan’s mother is still getting the care she needs.

“So what’s the plan now?” Arkady asks. “Besides the obvious.”

I run a hand through my hair and think. “First, I need to secure Rowan and the baby. That means better housing, round-the-clock security, the best medical care.”

“And after that?”

“After that, I deal with my father.”

Arkady winces. “That’s not going to be pretty.”

“No,” I agree. “It won’t.”

He hesitates, then asks the question I know he’s been holding back. “Doesshewant this, Vince? Marriage? A life with you? Has she even agreed to keep the baby?”

“She’ll come around.” I say it with more confidence than I feel.

Arkady gives me a skeptical look. “Women aren’t business deals, brother. You can’t just decide for them.”

“I’m not deciding for her—I’m giving her what she needs.”

“And if what she needs isn’t you?”

I refuse to consider that possibility. “She got pregnant with my baby,” I say tightly. “She hid my laptop from the FBI. She’s protected me at every turn.”

“Maybe that means she cares,” Arkady concedes. “Or maybe she’s just a decent person caught in an indecent situation.”

I check my watch, impatient with this line of conversation and more than ready to talk about fucking anything else. “Dimitri and Sasha should be here by now.”

Right on cue, a black SUV with tinted windows pulls up, and two of my most trusted men step out. I brief them quickly on their duties—watch the building, report any suspicious activity, keep Rowan safe at all costs.

They take their positions without question.

“I’ll be in touch,” I tell Arkady, already moving toward the building’s entrance.

“Vince,” he calls after me. I pause, looking back. “Just… remember she’s not one of us. She didn’t grow up in this world. Don’t expect her to adapt overnight.”

His concern surprises me. “Since when do you care about Rowan’s feelings?”

“I don’t,” he says bluntly. “I care about yours. And I’ve never seen you like this over a woman before.”

I don’t respond to that.Can’trespond to it.

Because he’s right, and we both know it.

Instead, I just nod once and continue into the building. The elevator is out of order—of fucking course it is—so I take the stairs two at a time up to the third floor.

Standing outside Rowan’s door, I take a moment to compose myself. To arrange my thoughts into something coherent. Preferably something that won’t send her running for the hills.

Because Arkady’s right about that much: Rowan isn’t from my world. She didn’t grow up with arrangements and alliances and obligations.

She comes from a world of choice. Offeelings.

And if I’m being honest with myself—really fucking honest—this isn’t just about securing my inheritance or producing an heir to the Akopov empire.

This is abouther. She makes me feel… makesmy lifefeel…possible.Open in ways I never dreamed I’d be allowed to hope for. The life growing inside her represents something I never thought I’d have: a family that’s mine. Truly mine. Not because of duty or obligation, but because of…

I stop myself before I can complete the thought. Some words are too dangerous to even think.

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