Page 161 of Filthy Promises

His foot is already crossing my threshold before I can respond.

“I guess,” I mumble, stepping aside. “Make yourself at home.”

Like father, like son.

His appraising gaze sweeps over my apartment, taking in the sagging couch, the water stain on the ceiling, the IKEA furniture that was already secondhand when I bought it. I see it all through his eyes, and I want to die of embarrassment.

But mostly, I’m just angry. Angry at Vince. Angry at this entire situation.

And since he’s decided to thrust himself into the whole mess, I’m also angry now at the silver-haired bear of a man now standing in my living room like he owns it.

“I won’t waste your time with pleasantries,” Andrei begins, not bothering to sit. “I understand you’re carrying my grandchild.”

Direct. Just like his son. You gotta give the Akopov men that much, at least.

I don’t even bother being shocked or hurt. I just grimace. “Word travels fast,” I mutter, tightening the blanket around my shoulders.

“In my world, it does.” He studies me with those unnerving eyes—the same blue as Vince’s, but colder. “I also understand you’ve rejected my son’s proposal of marriage.”

My face heats. Of course Vince went running to Daddy with the news. Why am I even surprised?

“That’s between me and your son,” I say, lifting my chin.

“Under normal circumstances, perhaps.” Andrei reaches into his jacket and pulls out an envelope. “But these are not normal circumstances.”

He holds out the envelope.

I don’t take it. “What’s that?”

“An offer,” he says simply. “One that will benefit us both.”

Against my better judgment, curiosity gets the better of me. I take the envelope, opening it to find…

A check. With more zeros than I’ve ever seen in my life.

“What is this?” I ask, though I already know. My stomach churns with disgust.

“Compensation,” Andrei says, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. “Marry my son. Bear the Akopov heir. Raise the child properly, in our traditions.” He gestures to the check. “That amount is just the beginning. There will be more, of course, as obligations are fulfilled.”

I stare at him, unable to believe what I’m hearing.

But I shouldn’t be surprised.Like father, like son.The apple didn’t fall far from the Akopov family tree.

And they’re all fucking rotten to the core.

“Obligations,” I repeat, my voice hollow. “What does that make me?”

His expression doesn’t change. “You’re the mother of my grandchild. That gives you a certain value.”

I laugh right in his smug face. “How generous of you to see me as a human being and not just a walking uterus. Truly, I am flattered.”

“Do not mistake my directness for a lack of respect, Ms. St. Clair,” Andrei says, his tone hardening. “I am offering you security. Wealth. Many women would kill for such things.”

“And all I have to do is sign away my life to your son and let you dictate how I raise my child.” I hold up the check. “Thanks but no thanks.”

I tear it in half, then in quarters, then toss the pieces at his feet.

His eyes track the fluttering paper with mild, dispassionate interest. As if it’s merely a curiosity. “I see.”

---