Page 58 of The Russian's Arranged Pregnant Bride

And I hated that I couldn’t trust her.

Hated that every time I looked at her, I saw two versions of the same woman—the one I was falling for, and the one who might’ve betrayed everything I cared about.

“Did you tell him?” I asked, my voice quiet but cutting through the rain and the silence like a blade.

She froze. Her hand stilled mid-reach for a glass.

“Vance,” I clarified, keeping my tone even. Not angry. Not suspicious. Just... aching. “Did you give him intel that led to the ambush?”

Her jaw tightened. She set the glass down carefully, deliberately, and didn’t turn around.

Silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating.

“Cassandra.” I stood up, moved closer, stopped at the threshold between the living room and kitchen. “Did you?”

“Does it matter?” Her voice was low, controlled.

“Yes.” I took another step forward. “It matters.”

She finally turned to face me, her brown eyes guarded, her expression carefully blank. “Why?”

“Because I need to know if you’re lying to me.”

Her eyes flashed. “You think I caused it?”

“I think you’re hiding something.” I kept my voice calm, even though frustration was coiling tight in my chest. “And I think whatever you told Vance is part of it.”

She crossed her arms, her jaw set. “I didn’t. I didn’t give him anything that would’ve caused that.”

“Don’t do that.” I took another step, closing the distance between us. “Don’t lie to me, Cassandra. Not about this.”

“I’m not—”

“Do you think I’m a fool?” The words came out sharper than I intended. “Do you think I don’t know when someone is lying to me?”

Her eyes narrowed, fire sparking to life. “I never said you were a fool.”

“Then stop treating me like one.” I stopped just a few feet away, close enough to see the pulse hammering in her throat. “I’ve been doing this a long time, kitten. I know when someone is hiding something. And you? You’re drowning in secrets.”

She flinched, just slightly, but recovered fast. “If you don’t trust me, then why am I here?”

“Because I care about you.” The admission tore out of me, raw and unfiltered. “Because despite everything—despitemy better judgment, despite knowing you’re hiding something—I can’t walk away.”

Her breath hitched. Her hands tightened around her arms, like she was physically holding herself together.

“I’m asking because I care, Cassandra. Not because I’m trying to trap you. Not because I’m looking for a reason to turn you in to Rafael.” I held her gaze, willing her to see the truth. “I’m asking because I need to know if you’re in danger. If we’re in danger.”

Her lips parted, and for a moment, I thought she might actually tell me. Might let down the walls she’d built so high I couldn’t see over them.

But then her expression hardened. Her eyes went cold.

“Just because I’m carrying your baby doesn’t mean you own my life.”

The words hit like a punch to the gut.

I knew she was deflecting. Knew she was throwing up barriers to keep me out. But it still stung like hell.

“I never said I did,” I said quietly.