Page 234 of Filthy Promises

He definitely knew.

“It’s not just Costa Rica,” I continue. “The Seattle shipping contract that mysteriously fell through? Andrei met with the port commissioner two days before they rescinded. The pharmaceutical acquisition that suddenly faced regulatory hurdles? Your father’s got an old buddy on the review board.”

I point to the relevant documents as I keep going, watching Vince’s expression carefully.

“The construction delays at the Manhattan project? Turns out the union leader who called the strike received a very generous ‘donation’ from an anonymous source. But the banking trail leads back to one of your father’s shell companies.”

Vince sets the folder down slowly. His face is a perfect mask of control.

Too perfect.

“You already knew, though,” I say aloud, my voice dropping. “You knew all of this.”

He doesn’t deny it. Doesn’t try to soften the blow.

“Yes,” he says simply. “I’ve known since Costa Rica.”

I can’t stop my face from twisting into a pained grimace. I push myself up from the chair, one hand supporting my belly as I move away from him.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I demand. “After everything we’ve been through, everything we’ve built together, you still shut me out?”

“I was protecting you from?—”

“Goddammit!” I whirl around to face him. “I’m yourwife, Vince. Your partner. We made vows. We made promises about honesty and trust.”

“You’re also nine months pregnant,” he counters, his own frustration rising to meet mine. “You’re about to give birth to our child. The last thing you needed was more stress.”

“So you decided for me? You decided what I could and couldn’t handle?” I shake my head in disbelief. “That’s not protection, Vince. That’s a fetish for control.”

He runs both hands through his hair. “What would you have done with the information, Rowan? Whatcouldyou have done?”

“Exactly what I did anyway!” I gesture to the folder. “Research. Analysis. Strategy. You know, the things you supposedly value me for?”

We stare at each other across the room. The distance between us suddenly feels vast. This is our first real fight since the wedding, and the timing couldn’t be worse.

“I confronted him, you know,” Vince says after a long moment. “The day we found out about Costa Rica. I told him to back off or face the consequences.”

Something in his tone makes me pause. “What consequences?”

“I cut him off,” he says flatly. “From Bratva operations. From our business dealings. From everything.”

I sink onto the edge of the bed, processing this. “You confronted your father—your mentor, the head of your family—and essentially declared war on him. Alone.”

“Yes.”

“And you didn’t tell me because…?”

He crosses to kneel in front of me, taking my hands in his. “Because he ismyfather, Rowan. My blood. My burden to bear.”

The raw pain in his voice cuts through my anger. I see now what I missed before: the cost of this confrontation. The toll it’s taken on him to sever this last tie to his past, to stand against the man who shaped him into who he is.

“Oh, Vince,” I whisper, cupping his face in my hands. “You stubborn, stupid, wonderful man.”

A flicker of confusion crosses his features. “You’re not angry?”

“I’m furious,” I correct. “But I also understand. This isn’t just business for you. It’s… it’s everything. And yet…” I cup his face and make him look at me. “My whole point is that you don’t have to do it all alone anymore. That’s the whole point of this—of us. We face things together.”

“You’re too wise for your own good,moya zhena.” He presses his forehead to mine. “I should have told you.”

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