Page 64 of Forced Marriage Vows

That argument with Mikhail was blown completely out of proportion, and I know it’s my fault. My head is just all over the place. It has been all morning. Ever since Sierra approached me. After she delivered that bomb, Lucia suggested we head into the café to talk about it, away from the prying eyes of the guards. We did, but I was in so much shock that Sierra suggested meeting another day so she could explain everything.

Mikhail has a son.

A son he has no clue about. It sounds insane. But I only had to take one look into Sierra’s eyes to know she was telling the truth. She even showed me proof at the restaurant, proof that she and Mikhail dated. It was a picture of them together. He hadhis arms around her waist, hugging her from behind. They were on a beach. They looked happy. It hurt, seeing them together like that.

I asked her how long they were together for and she said a year. He dated this woman for a year and I’ve never even heard him say her name. Which made me angry. Because he knows everything I could possibly tell him about myself. And the truth is, I don’t really know all that much about him.

Still, I know he’s trying his best. And what I said to him before he left was unfair. My phone dings with a text an hour after Mikhail leaves.

Sierra: Can we meet for dinner tomorrow night?

Me: Of course.

My heart pounds in my chest as I consider what’s to come. One thing’s for sure. Everything is about to change.

Mikhail hasn’t said a word to me since our fight yesterday. And while I understand his anger, I also think he’s been a really big baby. He’s in the living room when I step out later that night, dressed to leave the house. He arches an eyebrow as he takes in my outfit, a simple black gown and stilettos.

“That’s a little much for a night in, don’t you think?”

“It is,” I agree. “It’s a good thing I’m actually dressed to go out. I’m having dinner with Lucia.”

She’s my excuse, my cover story. And thankfully, she agreed to be at the restaurant with Sierra and me just in case Mikhail thinks to ask her husband.

His jaw tightens. “Since when?”

“Since I made plans with her. I would have told you but you were too busy giving me the silent treatment. I’m meeting her at a restaurant.”

His eyes narrow and I can tell he’s gearing for a fight. Then he seems to think better of it, turning around to face the TV in front of him.

“Jerome will drive you to this restaurant,” he informs me. “Don’t stay out too late, Anastasia.”

He’s suspicious. I can tell. There’s no reason for him to send his assistant to come with me otherwise. I hate that I’m hiding this from him, but until I have all the facts, I’m not sure it’s a good idea to tell him the truth. I have no idea how he’s going to react and Sierra seems so scared. The entire situation is way too delicate.

The urge to give him a hug or at least to touch him hits me, but I ignore it. We slept in separate bedrooms last night like a proper couple in a fight. I hated it. After only a couple nights in his bed, I couldn’t get any sleep away from him. It’s scary, how much I’ve come to depend on him in such a short time.

After one last look at the back of his head, I leave the apartment, heading downstairs. Jerome’s already waiting for me there, of course, with one of my guards in tow. The back door is opened for me and I’m led inside, praying that whatever goes on tonight doesn’t end with everything blowing up in my face.

Lucia and Sierra are already at the table when I arrive. They picked one at the very back, obscured by the fake trees in the restaurant just in case Jerome or anyone else walks in looking for us. I give Lucia a hug as I slide into the seat beside her, facing Sierra.

She’s just as beautiful as the day before. Her face is glowing, completely devoid of makeup. She’s pretty in a way that would make most women self-conscious.

“Thank you for coming, Anastasia,” she tells me. “And I’m really sorry for bothering you with this.”

“It’s fine,” I assure her. “This can’t be easy for you, either. I just want to understand. Why did you decide to approach me? And why now? You said it’s been more than three years since you and Mikhail broke up.”

She nods. “My son just turned three last month.”

I suck in a sharp breath at that. A three-year-old little boy.

“What’s his name?”

“Jalen. Jalen Colby,” she says softly.

“That’s a wonderful name,” I tell her.

She smiles, staring at me for a couple of seconds. “You know, you’re much nicer than I thought you were going to be. The people I talked to said you were a bitch.”

“Who says I’m not?” I drawl, smiling too. “If you thought I was a bitch then why did you come to me?”

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