Page 72 of The Russian Pakhan's Forced Bride
His expression hardens, and his words have an absolute edge to them, like there’s no room for debate. “Before, I assumed he changed your identity and hid you away from the public eye…I thought his recent retaliations were a warning to me that he was prepared to do anything to get you back. But after learning about your past, I don’t know what his motives are—what his plans could be. At the very least, I’m certain he’ll try to use you to get to me, one way or another.”
My stomach drops at those words, as that dread and worry only seem to get bigger inside me.
As much as I wanted Roman to tell me the truth, I wasn’t expecting such a bombshell to be dropped on me. I didn’t think the truth went any further than one of his enemies going berserk.
And now, I don’t know what to think or feel.
My sense of identity had always been a bit shaky, given how I bounced around to so many places as a kid, but it has never felt like this.
Knowing I have a brother out there…and one who has been actively working against Roman for years…
And now, he likely plans to target me, too.
Another rush of fear hits me as I place a hand against my stomach. “The baby…does he know?”
When I meet Roman’s gaze, there’s no mistaking the heaviness there as it tries to pull him down.
“No…I don’t think he knows about the baby. Not yet, anyway.”
That should give me some comfort to lean on, but in all honesty, I still don’t feel any better knowing our child will be caught in the middle regardless.
I pause for a long moment, unable to find anything to say despite my racing thoughts. It’s all so much to try and understand at once…so much that doesn’t make sense to me.
It’s like trying to peer into a black hole that sucked in my early childhood, leaving me to question the truth of it all.
When I still don’t speak, Roman’s eyes search mine. “Victoria…say something.”
Say something…he thinks I can muster up anything right now?
Part of me wants to laugh; the other wants to scream.
“What do you want me to say, Roman?” I ask incredulously, struggling to even maintain a semblance of calm. “We both could’ve died tonight, and now you’ve just told me the man responsible is my estranged brother. On top of this, I’m carrying your baby. How do you expect me to feel about it all?”
Roman’s jaw tightens, but he keeps his cool regardless. “I know none of this is easy on you, but you’re not alone in this, Victoria.”
“You make it sound so simple.”
“You’re scared, I know that,” he murmurs, taking a few steps closer to cut down on the space between us. He goes to reach for me, but I pull back.
“Ofyou, Roman,” I mumble, eyes flashing with the most complicated emotions I’ve ever felt. “I’m terrified of everything that’s happening…of everything you’re putting me through.”
A rare glimpse of pain moves through his eyes. “I may have stirred up the truth, but one way or another, you were always a part of this…”
Irritated that he can’t even take responsibility for it, I bristle. “If you had just left me alone, nobody would know the truth of my identity…Maxim likely never would’ve dug into it if it weren’t for you. But that doesn’t matter, does it? Not when you took me with the express intention of getting to him.”
That gleam of vulnerability deepens for a moment, then vanishes immediately. “You still think this is about me using you for leverage?”
“Is it not? You were very clear from the moment you captured me that it was all to bring Maxim to his knees.”
Roman doesn’t say anything for a moment, and I scoff.
“You knew who I was before I did…despite the confusion about my identity, you kept me. You held onto me for whatever reason, probably hoping it would turn out to be true so you could use me to get to him,” I say, feeling increasingly resentful as I go on. “But now it doesn’t even matter…now I’m a pawn for two people, and you expect me to be okay with that.”
“That was my motive before, yes…but it’s more than that now,” he says, eyes giving away a slight hint of desperation. “Regardless of what name you were given at birth, this is real to me. Everything I do now is to keep you safe.”
“Safe?” I repeat, voice filled with doubt. “Nothing about this is safe. I had a normal life before—a job, friends, real safety…I don’t know how much more of this I can handle.”
He almost recoils, as if he had touched a hot surface and had no choice but to bear it. Then, he takes another slow, cautious step. “I know…I’m aware of the hazards that come with my work and my position. But I won’t let anything happen to you.”
