Page 81 of Twisted Pact

The sudden change of topic makes me blink. “What?”

“We’re getting married. Before the baby comes. Before anything else happens.”

“That’s not a proposal; that’s a command.”

“Marriage legitimizes this relationship. Makes you family in ways that matter legally and socially.”

“And gives you permanent claim over me.”

“Yes.”

The brutal honesty should be refreshing. Instead, it makes my stomach clench.

“I need time to think about this.”

“There’s nothing to think about. You’re pregnant with my child. We’re getting married.”

“See? You’re doing it again. Making decisions for us.”

“I’m making the only decision that makes sense.”

“For you.” I wave my hands in his general direction. “It makes sense for you.”

“We are trapped by circumstances. The question is whether we make the best of it or fight reality.”

I stare at this man who wants to marry me for protection instead of affection. He sees our relationship as a strategic alliance that needs legal backing.

Understanding hits me like cold water. Being with Alexei means accepting that my independence will always be secondary to his need to protect what he considers his. Marriage won’t change that. It will only make it permanent.

This isn’t about building a life together or getting a fairytale happy ending. This is about him securing his claim to me and our baby. Whether that’s enough to build a marriage on remains to be seen.

22

Alexei

Everything I knew about priorities just went out the window.

I stand in my study staring at intelligence reports that feel meaningless. Territory disputes, shipping contracts, revenue streams… none of it matters anymore. Not when Mila is carrying my child.

The documents run together as I think about what Dr. Orlov confirmed last night. Such a small amount of time to reshape my understanding of what matters. I set the papers down and rub my temples where a headache is building as the weight of everything that needs to change presses down on me.

My phone buzzes with an incoming call. Dmitri’s name flashes on the screen, and I know that when my brother calls this early, it’s never good news.

“What’s up?”

“Word on the street is that you got Leonid Andreev’s daughter pregnant and haven’t told me yet.”

I clench my jaw and feel the muscles in my neck go rigid. Of course, he knows. Nothing stays secret in our world for long, especially not something this important. Information travels faster than common sense in criminal organizations.

“How did you find out?”

I lean back in my chair and close my eyes, dreading the network of contacts and observations that led him to this conclusion.

“Boris mentioned Dr. Orlov made a house call to your location. Medical visits usually mean one of two things in our world: Someone got shot or someone got pregnant. Since there was no blood, I made an educated guess.”

Smart bastard. Sometimes, I forget how observant my brother can be when he wants to focus on something other than his new wife. Years of running this organization have trained him to notice patterns and draw conclusions that most people would miss.

“She’s six weeks along,” I confess with a sigh.