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While she sleeps, her head nestled against my shoulder, I find myself wide awake. My mind races with thoughts about our future, the dangerous path we've chosen to walk together, side by side. But there's no turning back now—we're in this together, for better or worse.
The sudden buzz of Robin's phone on the nightstand startles me out of my thoughts. I glance over at the screen, curious about who could be texting her at this hour.
Thinking it might be urgent, like her young brother needing her, I check to see if I should wake her. I know it's an invasion of privacy, but I can't help myself. She’s pregnant and needs all the rest she can get. So, if I can avoid waking her right now, I’ll do all I can.
"Uncle, please don't ask me for more money," the text reads. "I'm barely making ends meet as it is, and Boris doesn't know about any of this."
"Come on, Robin. You know I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important," her uncle replies. "You owe me, remember?"
A bitter taste floods my mouth as I scroll through their conversation, my stomach tightening into knots. Robin has beensending her uncle money for months, even before our arranged marriage. The fact that she's kept this hidden from me stings—but why? Does she not trust me?
I know she’s sending her brother money. If I knew she needed to do the same with her uncle, I would have helped out.
"Damn it," I mutter under my breath, feeling torn between anger and sympathy. I understand the importance of loyalty to one's family, but I can't help feeling betrayed by her secrecy. And yet, a part of me admires her strength, her determination, to shoulder this burden alone.
I don’t know why this hurts, though. We’re married. We’re having a child together. I’m always the first to tell her about everything going on with Anoushka, Lev, and Damien if it’s not a secret.
Is Robin sending her uncle money supposed to be a secret? But what secret could it be? What is she keeping from me? The last thing I want to do is confront her now while we're still basking in the afterglow of our newfound connection. But I can't let this fester inside me—it'll only drive a wedge between us.
I need to know why she hasn’t told me about this, but I need to clear my head to understand how to broach this topic.
I can't bring myself to wake Robin up just yet; the weight of her secret still sits heavy in my chest. Instead, I quietly slip out of bed and pull on a pair of jeans and a black jacket. The night air is cool as it brushes against my skin when I step outside, offering some temporary relief from the emotional turmoil swirling inside me.
As I walk through the deserted compound, I feel all alone in the world.
"Damn it, Robin," I mutter under my breath, feeling a mix of frustration and concern. "Why didn't you tell me?"
My thoughts race as I consider the various reasons why she might have kept this part of her life hidden from me and why it hurts so damn much to not have known.
The rational part of my brain tells me she has a right to keep secrets. I know she's fiercely independent and has been taking care of herself and her younger brother for years. But we're married now—even if it was a forced union—and I want to be there for her, to support her and protect her from the burdens she carries.
After all, one doesn’t keep such secrets from a husband they love.
The realization hits me like a ton of bricks: I'm in love with her. I’m in love with her, and that is why this small little revelation is causing me so much distress. It's not something I ever expected, especially given the circumstances of our relationship. But here I am, walking the gardens alone at night, grappling with the fact that I've fallen head over heels for this woman.
"Jesus Christ, Boris. You're really in deep, aren't you?" I say to myself, chuckling bitterly. The thought is simultaneously terrifying and exhilarating. What does this mean for us? For our future?
I need to talk to Robin about her secret, but I also need to be honest with her—and myself—about my feelings.
"Alright," I whisper, steeling myself for the conversation ahead. "Time to face the music."
With renewed determination, I turn back toward our home, ready to confront the truth and lay my heart on the line.
Chapter 20 - Robin
My eyes fly open, heart pounding. Where am I? My surroundings look unfamiliar, and then it all comes flooding back. I’m in Boris’s bed. I reach over to his side with a smile, hoping to snuggle before falling back to sleep. But the bed is cold and empty beside me, and Boris is gone.
Maybe he was hungry for a snack. Or went to use the washroom. I await his return, but many minutes pass, so I decide to wander through the house to look for him.
When I can’t find him, panic rises in my chest. Usually, if it’s a Bratva emergency, he lets me know, but there’s no note.
I grab my phone to check if he sent a message One new voicemail. Uncle. My stomach drops.
“Robin, we’re in trouble. Some other collectors came for what your wretched mother owed them. Bring me $20,000 to The Crescent Inn by tonight. If you don’t, they’ll take Adam. These men won't wait much longer. If they don't get paid by tonight, your precious brother might be dead.”
Ice floods my veins. They have Adam. Rage boils inside me, hot and venomous. That bastard put my brother on the line to save his own skin. He could have hidden Adam and kept him out of all this.
I'm out of bed in an instant, throwing on my clothes.
