Because it isn’t fake.
Not all of it.
Not what just happened in the office this afternoon or the concern Viktor has for me and for Theo. Or the concern I have for him.
Despite the marriage being fake, our feelings aren’t. So, I just nod.
“Yes, I fell in love.”
“Oh man,” Hannah says, shaking her head. “That’s the scariest part of everything you just told me. A woman in love makes the stupidest decisions.”
Despite the raw ache in my chest, left there by Viktor’s announcement that I can leave once Fedor is dealt with and by Hannah’s kindness, I laugh. I wipe my nose with my sleeve and shake my head.
“I’ve definitely made some stupid decisions.”
Hannah wraps her arm around my shoulders and presses her cheek against mine. “That’s okay. I’ll be here for you. You aren’t in this alone anymore.”
I’m so relieved I feel like I could cry more.
10
Viktor
It has been two days since Molly and I were together in her office, and nothing has gone right since.
She told me she didn’t want to do this anymore. This. Us.
I knew that she had doubts about our arrangement, but I always assumed she’d come around eventually. The way she looks at me makes it obvious there is a connection there. Something more than just the physical. I assumed once Fedor was taken care of, we would have time and space for that connection to grow.
Now, I’m not sure.
She expressed her desire to leave, so I compromised. My big stupid mouth said she could leave when this was over if she wanted.
I can’t hold her against her will. I mean, I can … but I shouldn’t. I won’t.
So much of Molly’s life has been without her consent, and I don’t want to be responsible for any other bad memories for her. Telling her she can leave was the right thing to do, but now there is a time bomb ticking over my head.
Between it and the actual bombs Fedor has been setting off, it’s a wonder I haven’t lost my mind.
Three Kornilov Bratva hangouts have been targeted in just two days. The warehouse where Fedor was staying before is empty now, and I have no idea where he is or where he is launching these attacks from. The only thing I know for sure is that he is ruthless. Men, women, and children have been caught in the crosshairs, and he doesn’t seem to mind.
He is a far cry from the boy I remember screaming at me the night our parents died.
Fedor fought my tight hold around his middle, digging his fingernails into my arms to try and free himself to get inside and save them. He was so angry at me for holding him back, for sacrificing our parents to save them. I’m not sure when that little boy lost his humanity and became the Fedor I know today, but I wish more than anything I could go back and fix it.
My men have avoided their regular haunts and are keeping a low profile while I try to figure things out, but morale is low. This dinner with the Irish couldn’t have come at a better time. We need allies. Now.
I park along the curb in front of Molly’s apartment and just before I turn off the car, my phone rings.
It’s George.
“What do you need?” I ask shortly, not wanting to chitchat. “I have plans tonight.”
“And I have information.” His voice is gruff. “I’ve been monitoring Petr the last few days, and I’ve seen him driving into an Italian stronghold every day.”
“To see who?”
“I don’t know.” He sighs. “The damn streets are so narrow that I have to keep my distance to avoid him seeing me, and I lose him every time.”
I curse. “That isn’t good, but I need more than a suspicion. If I cast doubt on Petr, the entire Bratva could fall apart. If even my right-hand man is betraying me, what would keep everyone else from deserting me? I have to be absolutely certain Petr has turned his back on me before I do anything rash.”
“I’ll keep tailing him,” George says.
We hang up, and I take a deep breath, trying to release the tension building in my neck and shoulders. I look over and see one of my men parked across the road to keep eyes on the street outside Molly’s apartment. He rolls down his window an inch and sticks a finger out in a small wave. I tip my head in his direction, straighten my suit jacket, and head inside.
Molly told me she’d need a new dress, so I had one sent over for her this morning. She isn’t far enough along in her pregnancy to be showing yet, so the measurements I had taken after she first came to live with me still work. Eventually, I’ll need to buy her maternity clothes.
For our baby.
How can I let her walk away with my baby?
The question has been floating around in my brain for two days, and I’m no closer to having an answer. Perhaps we can arrange some kind of custody deal, but I’m not sure Molly would agree. Being close to me at all puts her and the kids in danger. She might want to cut ties with me completely, and I have to figure out whether I’m okay with that. Whether I can live knowing my child is out there in the world without me.
I knock on Molly’s front door three times in the specific pattern I devised with the guards and then unlock the front door with my key. One of the guards peeks his head around the corner to be sure it is me and then disappears, worries assuaged.
The living room is empty—Theo is with the nanny, and I’m not sure where Molly’s house guest is—so I mount the stairs to her room. I’m just about to knock when I hear voices.
“You don’t have to go.” I recognize the voice as Hannah’s. “Tell him you’re sick. Or that you are nauseous. You’re pregnant. He can’t argue with a pregnant woman.”
“I’m always nauseous,” Molly says. “Even before the pregnancy. This life gives me anxiety.”
I fight back the flare of anger and concern that rises up in me.
“That is why you need to get out of here,” Hannah says. “Let’s do it. Right now. We’ll leave, pick up Theo, and run. Who is better at living under the radar than a formerly homeless woman and a current one? We are society’s undesirables. Let’s embrace our invisibility and run.”
There is silence for a long time, and I start to worry Molly is considering the offer. But she wouldn’t … would she?
Running now would be so foolish. Fedor would find her in a second, and with no one to protect her or Theo or the baby, she’d be killed. Or worse.
“I can’t,” Molly says at last. “I have to think about Theo. Plus, I’m pregnant.”
“We were both pregnant the first time we slept under a bridge,” Hannah says. “We can do it again.”
Molly doesn’t say anything, but her answer must be clear enough because Hannah sighs. “Okay, but just know I’ll support you no matter what you decide.”
She sounds so sincere, but she is also trying to convince my (fake) wife to run away with her and take Theo and my baby with them, so I don’t think it is a good idea to let them spend anymore alone time together. I push open the door without knocking and stand in the doorway, arms crossed.
Hannah jumps back, yanking her arm from Molly’s shoulder, and Molly yelps, her eyes going wide.