Page 156 of Filthy Promises

The words slice through me like shards of broken glass, as the snow globe perfection of my imagined future gets crushed beneath Vince’s heel.

“No,” I say quietly.

He goes completely still. “No?”

“No,” I repeat, stronger this time. “I won’t marry you.”

He says nothing at first. Just stares at me like I’ve suddenly started speaking in tongues. Maybe I am going insane after all.

“That’s… not rational,” he finally says, his voice dangerously soft.

“Maybe I’m not feeling particularly rational right now,” I shoot back. “Did it ever cross your mind that I want more than to be your convenient solution to an inheritance problem? Forgive me if I’m not exactly swooning at your romantic declaration.”

“You’re being deliberately difficult.”

“And you’re being deliberately obtuse!” I can feel tears threatening again, but I refuse to let them fall. “I will not be another transaction in your life, Vince. I will not marry you just so you can secure your precious inheritance and have your heir.Fuck. That.And you know what? Fuck you for even suggesting it.”

His face darkens. I’ve never seen him look quite like this before—not even when he killed that man in front of me. It’s like watching a storm front roll in.

Not just any storm, though.

The Last Storm.

The End of Days.

The Akopov Apocalypse.

“You don’t understand what you’re refusing,” he snarls. “What you’re risking.”

“You’ve got about five seconds to explain it to me before I throw you the hell out.”

“Rowan, I?—”

“And donottouch me!” I snap, scooting away before his reaching fingers can make contact against my fevered skin. “Use your words or there’s the door.”

He drops his hand with a tortured sigh. “If you’re not my wife, you’re not under my protection. Do you understand what that means? The danger you’d be in as the mother of my child without the Akopov name to shield you?”

A cold shiver runs down my spine, but I stand my ground. “Are you threatening me?”

“I’m stating facts.” His voice has gone flat, emotionless. “My world is dangerous, Rowan. You’ve seen it firsthand. Without marriage, without the protection of my name, you and the baby become targets. Vulnerabilities that my enemies can exploit.”

“So my choices are to marry you or live in fear? Jeez, just when I thought this proposal couldn’t get any worse.”

“Your choices,” he reiterates, “are to marry me and accept my protection, or to refuse and face the consequences.”

“And what consequences would those be, exactly?”

”For one, your position at Akopov Industries would become… untenable.”

I gawk at him in disbelief. “You’d… you’d fire me? For not marrying you? Am I… Jesus, you can’t be serious.”

“It would be for your own safety,” he continues smoothly. “The FBI is already interested in you because of your connection to me. The longer you remain in my orbit without the protection marriage would provide, the more danger you’re in.”

“So you are in fact giving me an ultimatum.” I laugh, though it’s the saddest sound I’ve ever heard. “Marry you or lose my job, my income, my freedom, maybe even my life. I said use your words, but damn, you did not mince them, did you?”

“I’m giving you reality,” he intones. “Take it or leave it.”

The sheer audacity of it all, this whole godforsaken scene, leaves me speechless. This man—this arrogant, controlling, infuriating bastard—actually believes he can just order me to marry him.

---