Page 68 of The Russian Pakhan's Forced Bride
Something about that honest admittance stirs a hint of warmth within me, and I extend a hand to gently stroke his hair. “Now you get to see me.”
The corner of his lip just barely pulls upward. “And I plan to take full advantage of that fact.”
We sit like that for a while as he closes his eyes, and I gently brush my fingers along his hair, seeing him as something more than the Pakhan…more than the dangerous front he puts up.
After a time, his voice gently breaks the silence while his thumb strokes along the very faint swell of my belly.
“The pregnancy has made me think a lot about my upbringing…and it made me realize I’ve never mentioned anything of my past to you,” Roman murmurs, sounding more pensive while his eyes open again, but he doesn’t look focused on anything in particular. “But I feel I should at least give you something to work with.”
I’m briefly surprised, but I hum and lightly brush against his ear. “I wouldn’t mind hearing it.”
With a breath, he nods against my thigh, then finds his words.
“My parents were poor while we lived in Russia, and despite trying to make things work, my mother eventually died, and her passing pushed my father into the business. He became connected with local families, then with time, he saw more opportunities in America and moved us here,” he explains, taking his time. “Here, he found more success than any of us could’ve anticipated. While he built our family’s empire, I took care of my siblings until I was old enough to join him…then the day arrived when he too passed, and I took his place as Pakhan.”
I take in every word, finding myself more interested than I anticipated.
“It sounds like success came easily to your family.”
A quiet, vaguely bitter sound escapes him. “It might sound that way, but that was far from the truth in the beginning. There were many hurdles, and along the way, we’ve both built and burned many bridges…but that’s how the game is played.”
Without needing to divulge more on the topic, I have every reason to believe that claim. I can only imagine what he has seen.
“Taking care of my siblings after our mother passed wasn’t easy, but I did whatever I could to keep us together…even when social workers were trying to dig into what was happening with us.”
Understanding that fear, my heart lurches at the memories of my own.
“I had my fair share of experiences with social workers; you were right to want to keep them away, at least for the sake of staying together,” I say gently, glancing down at him to meet his gaze. “I guess we share some overlap there.”
Roman’s expression softens at the connection, and he carefully reaches for my hand. “I suppose we do…it feels familiar in a way…”
Nodding to myself, my mind wanders as that thought takes me with it.
I think about my upbringing, then the baby, and how their life will hopefully be different.
With Roman’s head in my lap and a quiet tenderness exchanged between us, I feel even more at odds with myself.
Before, I wanted nothing to do with him or this marriage I was forced into. But now…after seeing more of him and the vulnerability he rarely exposes to anyone, along with knowing we have a baby on the way, it all kicks up that confusion within me.
I feel caught between two versions of myself, but I know I can’t stay that way forever.
Not while I have a baby to take care of… a new life to nurture and protect, even if I hardly felt either of those things growing up.
I can either become a complacent zombie going along with everything Roman has planned for us, or I can accept things for what they are and try to make the most of it. I can cling to my old life as Victoria Evans, or I can be Victoria Lukov.
Either way, a baby is bound to be caught in the middle of it all.
Chapter 23 - Roman
Victoria absently pushes the roasted vegetables around her plate, and I can’t tell if she isn’t hungry because of the pregnancy hormones or because of something else she hasn’t shared with me.
Either way, she hasn’t taken a bite in ten minutes, and something about the way her jaw’s set tells me things aren’t as great as I thought they were.
It was supposed to be a simple, relaxing dinner for us at a quiet restaurant to give us a break from eating at home.
Despite the few guards lingering at a separate table, should anything go wrong, it’s just us. It should feel normal and peaceful, but the faint, unidentified tension between us is getting in the way.
She seemed happier earlier in the day and was more open to being affectionate with me. I assumed that would only get better as the night went on, but now, there’s silence. A distance I wasn’t prepared for.
