Page 75 of Forced to Marry the Russian Pakhan

I step forward. “Mine.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“I’m not good at saying the pretty version, Yulia. But I brought you into this house to protect you. I gave you the clinic. I gave you power. I gave you my name.”

“And you didn’t give me a choice,” she says, voice sharp. “But fine. I’ve played along. I’ve made it work. I’ve even started to believe that maybe, maybe there was something real between us.”

“Thereissomething real—”

“Then why do I feel like a fuckingorphantonight?”

She’s crying now, the anger giving way to something rawer. Deeper.

And there it is. The real wound. Not my deception, though that cut deep. But the realization that her family—the one she’d built her life around, the one she’d trusted implicitly—had been using her all along.

“I’m sorry,” I say, meaning it. “I’m sorry they failed you.”

She closes her eyes, swaying slightly on her feet. When she opens them, the anger seems to have drained away, leaving only exhaustion in its wake.

“I need to lie down,” she says, turning toward the stairs. “I don’t feel well.”

I reach for her again, unable to stop myself. This time, she doesn’t pull away immediately. “Let me help you.”

“I don’t need your help,” she says, but there’s no heat behind it now. Just weariness. “I need to be alone.”

She takes a step away, and that’s when I notice it. A small, dark stain spreading on her dress. Another step, and a drop hits the marble floor.

Blood.

“Yulia,” I say, alarm sharpening my voice. “You’re bleeding.”

She looks down, confusion crossing her face before realization dawns. Her hand goes to her stomach.

“Oh,” she whispers, and the word carries a weight that stops my heart.

She blinks rapidly, and a hand flies to her stomach.

“Yulia?”

She stumbles into me, and my blood runs cold.

“YULIA.”

She collapses into my arms, a soft cry escaping her lips as I catch her before she hits the floor.

“Call Maksim!” I shout toward the hall for my driver. “Get the fucking car!”

Her skin is clammy. Her breath is shallow.

“I’ve got you,” I whisper, already lifting her into my arms. “I’ve got you. Stay with me.”

But I don’t know if I’m saying it for her or for myself.

Chapter 19 - Yulia

Pain. Sharp and low, like a knife twisting in my abdomen. I drift in and out of consciousness, aware of Trifon’s arms around me, his panicked voice sounding far away even though his lips are at my ear.

There’s blood soaking through my dress. Something is very wrong with me, and for the first time since I’ve known him, I feel Trifon is terrified.