Page 191 of Filthy Promises

Andrei’s laugh cuts through the tension—not a pleasant sound, but one that draws all attention to him. “She has spirit, I’ll grant her that. Perhaps there’s more to this American than meets the eye.”

We all do a double-take, me most of all.

It’s not exactly a ringing endorsement, but it shifts the mood in the room.

Vince’s hand finds the small of my back as he clears his throat. “My decision is made. Rowan will be my wife. Our child will be my heir.” His voice hardens. “Anyone who cannot accept this iswelcome to reconsider their position within our organization. Or it will be reconsidered for them.”

Even I can’t missthatthreat.

One by one, the men at the table exchange glances. Some nod reluctantly. Others remain stone-faced.

But none speak out again.

“Then it’s settled,” Vince concludes. “The wedding will take place in three weeks’ time. I expect you all to welcome my bride with the respect due to the future Mrs. Akopov.”

With that, he turns to escort me from the room. As we cross the threshold, I hear Andrei’s voice once more.

“Vincent.”

We both pause, looking back.

“Your mother’s ring,” Andrei says in an uninterpretable rumble. “It should be on her finger for the announcement.”

Vince stiffens beside me, then gives a curt nod. “I’ll see to it.”

Outside in the hallway, away from prying eyes, I release a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. “Well, that was absolutely terrifying.”

“You were remarkable,” Vince says as he cradles my face. “Not many would have the courage to speak up in that room.”

“Not courage. Just pregnancy hormones and poor impulse control.” I lean against the wall, suddenly exhausted. “Are they always like that?”

He considers this for a moment. “Yes,” he says finally. “It’s how I was raised. How they all were. Emotion is weakness. Strategy is everything.”

“Sounds lonely.”

“It was. Until you.”

It’s quiet for a while. Vince’s hands fall away from my face reluctantly, mournfully. Finally, he straightens. “We should rejoin the gathering. Make the announcement to the broader group.”

“More scary Russians to impress. Great.”

His mouth quirks. “Not all of them are scary. Some are merely homicidal.”

“In that case, I can’t wait.”

We move back toward the main room, but before we reach it, Vince stops, turning to face me. “Thank you,” he says quietly.

“For what?”

“For being here. For trying.” His eyes search mine, more vulnerable than I’ve seen them since everything fell apart. “I know this isn’t easy for you.”

The sincerity in his voice catches me off guard. “It’s not,” I admit. “None of this is what I imagined for my life.”

“Do you regret it?” he asks.

I hear the question beneath the question.Do you regret me?

I think about the baby growing inside me.

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