Page 70 of The Russian's Arranged Pregnant Bride
“This isn’t about tradition,” Rafael said quietly. “It’s about survival. Yours. Hers. The baby’s. If she’s unprotected, if she’svulnerable, someone will exploit that. And I won’t let that happen to my people.”
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak, and walked out.
***
I didn’t go back to my office.
Didn’t trust myself to sit at a desk and pretend everything was normal.
Instead, I walked. Down the hallway, through the building, out into the cold morning air.
Marry her.
Rafael’s words echoed in my head, relentless and inescapable.
I’d thought about it, of course. Thought about what it would mean to make Cassandra my wife, to bind her to me in a way that went beyond a baby, beyond desire.
But I’d never said it out loud. Never let myself believe it was possible.
Because how could I marry someone I didn’t trust?
Someone who might be betraying everything I cared about?
I pulled out my phone, dialed Kirill.
“Talk to me,” I said when he answered.
“Vance Donovan,” Kirill said immediately. “Forty-one. Former FBI. Clean record until about three years ago, then he disappeared. No termination papers, no reassignment, just…gone.”
“Why?”
“Working on it. But from what I’m piecing together? He was dirty. Got too close to something—or someone—he shouldn’t have, and the bureau cut him loose.”
“Connected to Bratva?”
“Maybe. I’m still digging. But Drew?” Kirill’s voice dropped. “This guy’s dangerous. Not just because he’s got skills,but because he’s got nothing to lose. Men like that don’t stop until they’re dead.”
“Find him,” I said. “I don’t care what it takes. Find him.”
“On it.”
I hung up, stared at my phone, then pulled up a text thread.
Cassandra.
Her last message was from this morning.Are you okay?
I hadn’t responded.
My thumb hovered over the keyboard, but I didn’t know what to say.
So I shoved my phone back in my pocket and kept walking.
Because the truth was coming.
And when it did, I didn’t know if I’d be able to save her.
Or if I’d have to destroy her instead.
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