Forced Marriage Vows

19. Anastasia

CHAPTER 19

Anastasia

I ’m the type of person to look a gift horse in the mouth. Leah said that to me once. She said I didn’t know how to trust something that feels too good to be true. I get defensive and a part of me starts to believe that I don’t deserve it.

It’s why half of my previous relationships ended. Because I was scared, because I’d rather push them away before they inevitably hurt me. It’s like an illness, and I can recognize the signs. They creep up on me until I have no choice but to acknowledge them.

That argument with Mikhail was blown completely out of proportion, and I know it’s my fault. My head is just all over the place. It has been all morning. Ever since Sierra approached me. After she delivered that bomb, Lucia suggested we head into the café to talk about it, away from the prying eyes of the guards. We did, but I was in so much shock that Sierra suggested meeting another day so she could explain everything.

Mikhail has a son.

A son he has no clue about. It sounds insane. But I only had to take one look into Sierra’s eyes to know she was telling the truth. She even showed me proof at the restaurant, proof that she and Mikhail dated. It was a picture of them together. He had his arms around her waist, hugging her from behind. They were on a beach. They looked happy. It hurt, seeing them together like that.

I asked her how long they were together for and she said a year. He dated this woman for a year and I’ve never even heard him say her name. Which made me angry. Because he knows everything I could possibly tell him about myself. And the truth is, I don’t really know all that much about him.

Still, I know he’s trying his best. And what I said to him before he left was unfair. My phone dings with a text an hour after Mikhail leaves.

Sierra: Can we meet for dinner tomorrow night?

Me: Of course.

My heart pounds in my chest as I consider what’s to come. One thing’s for sure. Everything is about to change.

Mikhail hasn’t said a word to me since our fight yesterday. And while I understand his anger, I also think he’s been a really big baby. He’s in the living room when I step out later that night, dressed to leave the house. He arches an eyebrow as he takes in my outfit, a simple black gown and stilettos.

“That’s a little much for a night in, don’t you think?”

“It is,” I agree. “It’s a good thing I’m actually dressed to go out. I’m having dinner with Lucia.”

She’s my excuse, my cover story. And thankfully, she agreed to be at the restaurant with Sierra and me just in case Mikhail thinks to ask her husband.

His jaw tightens. “Since when?”

“Since I made plans with her. I would have told you but you were too busy giving me the silent treatment. I’m meeting her at a restaurant.”

His eyes narrow and I can tell he’s gearing for a fight. Then he seems to think better of it, turning around to face the TV in front of him.

“Jerome will drive you to this restaurant,” he informs me. “Don’t stay out too late, Anastasia.”

He’s suspicious. I can tell. There’s no reason for him to send his assistant to come with me otherwise. I hate that I’m hiding this from him, but until I have all the facts, I’m not sure it’s a good idea to tell him the truth. I have no idea how he’s going to react and Sierra seems so scared. The entire situation is way too delicate.

The urge to give him a hug or at least to touch him hits me, but I ignore it. We slept in separate bedrooms last night like a proper couple in a fight. I hated it. After only a couple nights in his bed, I couldn’t get any sleep away from him. It’s scary, how much I’ve come to depend on him in such a short time.

After one last look at the back of his head, I leave the apartment, heading downstairs. Jerome’s already waiting for me there, of course, with one of my guards in tow. The back door is opened for me and I’m led inside, praying that whatever goes on tonight doesn’t end with everything blowing up in my face.

Lucia and Sierra are already at the table when I arrive. They picked one at the very back, obscured by the fake trees in the restaurant just in case Jerome or anyone else walks in looking for us. I give Lucia a hug as I slide into the seat beside her, facing Sierra.

She’s just as beautiful as the day before. Her face is glowing, completely devoid of makeup. She’s pretty in a way that would make most women self-conscious.

“Thank you for coming, Anastasia,” she tells me. “And I’m really sorry for bothering you with this.”

“It’s fine,” I assure her. “This can’t be easy for you, either. I just want to understand. Why did you decide to approach me? And why now? You said it’s been more than three years since you and Mikhail broke up.”

She nods. “My son just turned three last month.”

I suck in a sharp breath at that. A three-year-old little boy.

“What’s his name?”

“Jalen. Jalen Colby,” she says softly.

“That’s a wonderful name,” I tell her.

She smiles, staring at me for a couple of seconds. “You know, you’re much nicer than I thought you were going to be. The people I talked to said you were a bitch.”

“Who says I’m not?” I drawl, smiling too. “If you thought I was a bitch then why did you come to me?”

She shrugs. “It just seemed easier to approach you rather than the Pakhan of the Russian mafia.”

My lips part. “You know.”

“Yeah, I do. I knew when we were dating, too. My brother used to work for the Bratva as well. He trained with Mikhail, but he got out a couple of years ago. Mikhail and I met through my brother at a party.”

“He has a habit of going after his friend’s sisters,” I say, rolling my eyes.

Sierra laughs. “Actually, I went after him. I was pretty relentless back then. Mikhail never chases after anyone. The things he wants tend to come to him. Especially women. I’d heard a lot about him before then. The ice prince. He was already building up a reputation of being ruthless. My brother warned me to stay away from him, but I didn’t listen. I pushed until we started dating. And things were going well, at least until we broke up. I found out after that I was three months pregnant.”

“That must have been so scary,” I say sympathetically. “Why didn’t you tell him?”

“Two reasons—the first being that he had moved to L.A. by the time I found out about the baby. I could have called or texted him, but I was terrified. I had no idea how he would react. He’s always so closed off, I didn’t know if he would be open to the idea of a baby.”

I know what she means. When I asked Mikhail about kids yesterday, there was nothing encouraging about his answer. He said he’d be down for it if I wanted it, but that’s not how life works. It should be partnership.

“Plus, he’s in the mafia,” Sierra continues. “I wasn’t sure I wanted my child to be raised in an environment like that. My brother left because he almost lost his life. I don’t know if I could live with the threat of danger over my child’s life.”

“Mikhail’s the Pakhan now,” I point out. “It’s dangerous now more than ever before.”

“I know. But I don’t think I have much of a choice. Jalen’s asking about his dad. He’s such a smart, sweet kid. We were taking a walk through the park the other day and he saw a kid being lifted on his father’s shoulder. I could see how sad he was that he didn’t have that. And I know better than anyone how it feels to grow up without a father. I just want to give Jalen a chance to experience what other kids do.”

“I don’t know if Mikhail has it in him to be that kind of father, though,” I say softly.

Sierra looks pained at the statement. “I was hoping you wouldn’t say that.”

“Excuse me,” Lucia cuts in, drawing our attention. She’s been quiet all this while; I’d almost forgotten she was beside me. “The two of you incredible, smart women do realize that people are capable of change, right? I don’t know much about Mikhail, but I’m pretty sure he’s a man who rises to any challenge thrown his way. He became the leader of an entire organization, and you think he’s incapable of becoming a father?”

I feel a little chastened by that. “It’s not the same thing, Lucia.”

“Of course not. Being a parent is hard. You weren’t prepared to be one when you had Jalen, were you, Sierra?” she asks, and the other woman shakes her head. “But you did it. You rose to the occasion. I think it would be so unfair if you didn’t give Mikhail the chance to do the same.”

Silence follows that statement. I immediately feel like a horrible person. I’m supposed to be Mikhail’s wife and yet it’s pretty clear that I don’t trust him. Lucia’s phone rings, disrupting the silence. She gets to her feet.

“I have to take this. I’ll be right back,” she informs us before walking away.

“She’s pretty feisty,” Sierra says once she’s gone.

“Yeah, she is,” I say on a laugh. “But that was a much-needed wake-up call. She’s right. Mikhail deserves a chance to know his son.”

“And I want to give him that chance. I’m just scared of what he’ll do when she finds out I kept the truth hidden for this long.”

“He won’t hurt you,” I assure her.

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because I’m starting to realize that I need to give my husband a little more credit. And I need to start trusting him, as well.”

Sierra studies me for a couple of moments. “You care about him a lot.”

“It’s hard not to,” I say self-consciously. “I never expected that I’d be in this deep.”

“Falling in love is a slippery slope. Especially when it comes to Mikhail,” she confesses quietly. “He makes it easier.”

I try to ignore the pang of jealousy in my chest.

“Don’t worry, Anastasia,” Sierra states, reading the expression on my face accurately. “I’m completely over Mikhail. Our relationship was nice, but it always felt stunted. I think he dated me simply because he could, not because he cared. I was chasing him the whole time we were together. Does it feel like that for you?”

I shake my head. If anything, he’s been the one to chase me, while I’ve been a brat. He must be sick and tired of my shit by now.

“That’s how you know it’s real,” Sierra says simply, her mouth flicked up in a smile. “Id be lying if I said I wasn’t jealous. It must be pretty special to be loved by a man like Mikhail.”

Love is a strong word. But I’d be lying if I said my heart didn’t speed up at the possibility.

“Can I see a picture of Jalen?” I ask, just to change the subject.

She eagerly shows me one on her phone and I gasp when I catch a glimpse of the little boy. Any thoughts of a paternity test fly from my mind when I stare down at the adorable kid with bright blue eyes and dark hair.

He looks so much like Mikhail.

We talk for a little while longer and then it’s time to head back home. Sierra follows Lucia and I out of the restaurant. It doesn’t matter anymore if anyone sees her.

“I’ll tell him tomorrow morning,” I say, giving her a warm hug.

He deserves to know the truth as soon as possible, but I want us to have tonight. Just one night for me to make amends. I need to fix our relationship before trying to help him create one with his son.

“Thank you, Anastasia.”

She leaves, and I hug Lucia goodbye as well before walking to my car where Jerome is waiting. It’s clear from the look in his eyes that he caught sight of Sierra.

“If I may ask, who was that, Mrs. Morozova?” he asks a few minutes into the drive.

A friend,” I reply breezily. “You’re not doing a very good job as a spy, Jerome.”

“My apologies, ma’am,” he says quickly, then seems to realize his mistake. “I mean… I’m not a spy. The boss just asked me to bring you home.”

Watching him stammer his way through an excuse is pretty funny.

“It’s fine, Jerome. I’ll just take it up with him,” I say to put him out of his misery.

He lets out a relieved breath before turning his full attention to the drive. I glance at him, wondering exactly what he’s doing in this world. A person only has to take one look at him to know he doesn’t belong here, and yet Jerome seems completely comfortable. It makes me curious.

“Jerome, can I ask you something?”

“Of course, ma’am,” he replies.

“Why are you so loyal to Mikhail? You used to work for him when he was still at the company, right? Why didn’t you just stay there? The Bratva’s really dangerous.”

He smiles and I see his eyes grow warmer through the rearview mirror.

“Trust me, Mrs. Morozova. I know exactly how dangerous the Bratva is,” he says vaguely.

“What do you mean?”

He seems to consider his words before speaking. “I grew up in Chicago. I used to live here with my family—me, my older brother, and my parents. We were incredibly poor. My mom took any job she could find to put food on the table, but my father spent all of his money recklessly. He used to work back then, a few odd jobs for the Bratva, like drug runs or moving equipment in the warehouses. The thing is, my father was extremely abusive towards us,” he says bitterly.

“I remember always having to hide when he came home. Listening to him throw my mother around, and my brother as well. His name was Eli, my brother. And he always made sure to bear the brunt of the abuse. He protected me. And he ended up dying because of it.”

My hand flies up to my mouth in surprise. “Oh God, Jerome. I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah, it was hard. Especially after Eli died, there was no one to protect us. I was a scrawny seventeen-year-old kid going to school with broken ribs and a busted lip nearly every day. But I got lucky. You remember I said my father used to do odd jobs for the Bratva? Well, one day he fucked up and misplaced some drugs. Which garnered the attention of some of the people at the top. I’m guessing Mikhail was sent to investigate him, and that opened a whole can of worms. I never got to meet him, but my mom told him he visited her once at the restaurant and coaxed the truth from her. She told him everything, how he killed Eli, the things he’d done to us. He told my mother he’d take care of it. And he did.”

“Mikhail killed your father?” I ask, feeling my heart rate speed up.

“Yes, five years ago.”

“Where?” I ask. “Where was he found?”

“In some dark alleyway a couple miles from the restaurant my mom worked at. He was shot and left for dead.”

My lips part as realization hits me. The man I saw Mikhail kill was Jerome’s father.

Oh my God.

Anthony was right. He had deserved it. I’d seen him kneeling on the ground, begging and pathetic, and I’d assumed he was innocent, when really he’d been a monster who should have been killed a long time ago.

“Are you okay, Mrs. Morozova?” Jerome asks.

I exhale a shaky breath and nod, feeling lighter than I have in a very long time.

“I’m fine, Jerome. I’m perfect, actually,” I murmur, feeling a heaviness behind my eyes. “Just take me home to my husband.”

It’s time I stopped fighting what I can feel so acutely. Especially when I know without a doubt that if I fell, he’d catch me without hesitation.

He’s in the same spot I left him at, blue eyes meeting mine as soon as I walk through the doors of the house.

“Hey,” I say softly. “Are you done being mad at me?”