Page 74 of Forced to Marry the Russian Pakhan
I wait for her to say something. I know I surprised her tonight, and I expect her to be furious.
But she doesn’t say a word. Her arms are folded. Her spine is rigid. Her eyes are fixed on a point far away, and I know she’s seeing everything but the road.
“Yulia,” I begin, not sure what I’m even going to say.
“Don’t.” The word is ice.
So I don’t. I let the silence stretch between us, watching as the city lights slide across her face, her eyes brimming with unshed tears.
I realize with a sinking feeling that I’ve miscalculated. I thought she’d be angry, yes. But this absolute withdrawal? I didn’t prepare for this.
I let the silence stretch. Let her sit with it. I need her to calm down before I speak. To see that I did what I had to.
The ride seems endless. By the time we pull up to the house, the tension in the car is thick enough to choke on. I follow her inside, watching as she moves through the foyer, straight for the stairs.
“Yulia,” I try again. “We need to talk about this.”
She whirls on me.
“Yulia—”
“You brought me there to show them off. Like a trophy. Like a fuckingpawn. You stood there and declared to my family that I’m yours—without ever asking me if I wanted to be used like that.”
My jaw clenches. “I didn’t use you. I made a power move to keep them in check.”
“Exactly.” She laughs bitterly. “A power move. That’s all this was to you.”
“That’s not true.”
“No?” She stalks closer. “Then why didn’t you tell me they’d be there? Why didn’t youwarnme?”
“Because I was afraid you’d react like this,” I say, stepping closer. “And I needed to let your family know what was happening because the Zakharovs are dangerous. If your familyallies with them, it puts all of you in danger! I needed to protect you, Yulia. Don’t you—”
“Protect me?” she cuts me off with a bitter laugh. “Don’t twist this on me. You don’t care about me, because if you did, you wouldn’t have sprung this on me.”
I hesitate. “Yulia—”
Her mouth parts. “You needed meblindsidedso you could make a stronger statement. This wasn’t about protecting any of us!”
“Please, let me explain.” The guilt twists in my chest. Now? When I look back at it, I realize I should have told her. Of course I should have told her. I was too much of a coward, not wanting to ruin the peace we had built. But before I can put any of this into words, she cuts me off.
“No.” She holds up a hand. “You don’t get to talk right now. How long?” she demands. “How long have you known they were coming to Boston?”
“A week,” I admit.
Her face crumples for a fraction of a second before hardening again. “And you didn’t give me even a moment to prepare?”
“I thought—”
“You thought what?” she cuts in. “That it would be better to watch me fall apart in public? You claimed to care about me. And tonight, you paraded me in front of the people who raised me without a single word of preparation—like I was nothing but proof of your reach.”
“That wasn’t my intention, I promise you that. All I was thinking was that your family was bound to come for you eventually and that the Zakharovs know we’re connected,”I explain gently. “I couldn’t let your family align with the Zakharovs because the Zakharovs? They would have used you against me. Before your father could try to drag you back for their deals, I made it clear they can’t.”
“They don’t care about me,” she says, quieter now. “They never did. I saw it tonight. Ifeltit. They were furious because I cost them abusiness deal. That’s what I am to them.”
Her voice breaks.
“And to you?” Her eyes lift to mine. “What am I to you?”
