Chapter 23 - Roman
Victoria absently pushes the roasted vegetables around her plate, and I can’t tell if she isn’t hungry because of the pregnancy hormones or because of something else she hasn’t shared with me.
Either way, she hasn’t taken a bite in ten minutes, and something about the way her jaw’s set tells me things aren’t as great as I thought they were.
It was supposed to be a simple, relaxing dinner for us at a quiet restaurant to give us a break from eating at home.
Despite the few guards lingering at a separate table, should anything go wrong, it’s just us. It should feel normal and peaceful, but the faint, unidentified tension between us is getting in the way.
She seemed happier earlier in the day and was more open to being affectionate with me. I assumed that would only get better as the night went on, but now, there’s silence. A distance I wasn’t prepared for.
While things have improved between us in most ways, her hot-and-cold attitude has persisted, and I still can’t fully wrap my head around it.
After a moment, I glance at her again and keep my tone light as I murmur, “Is the food not to your liking?”
Victoria doesn’t look up at me. “It’s fine.”
Obviously, it isn’t fine, but I don’t press. As much as I want to believe our recent bonding has been a salve to our previous issues, I can’t ignore how this has been the situation more often than not.
Just when I think I’ve earned her trust and managed to bring us closer to being an actual couple, she pulls back again.
Part of me wonders if it’s me…
Rather, it has to do with the secrets I can’t reveal to her, or the way I operate things at work. As open as I am about my business with her, I can’t divulge every detail, which forces me to dance around certain topics.
As much as I don’t want to hide anything from her, there’s a glaring topic that has been weighing on me recently, and I have the feeling she may have picked up on it already.
I received absolute confirmation just a few days ago that she is Viktoria Nikolaev…or at least, she used to be.
Mikhail pulled some strings and got his hands on some old medical records that were collecting dust somewhere. The files of her family members helped to paint a better picture, and all of the pieces have fallen into place.
Apparently, the Nikolaevs came to Las Vegas even before my family, and my father happened to be in cahoots with them.
When a deal went sour, my father killed theirs, and as a result, their mother fled.
According to the records, both Maxim and Victoria were placed in various homes before they were split up, and along the way, her name was Americanized, hence the confusion.
She was far too young to remember her family.
As made-up as it sounds to me, there’s no denying it. No avoiding it.
Our families have been entangled for years, and in some strange twist of fate, I managed to marry the lost Nikolaev princess.
And I still haven’t told her. I don’t know when or how to…or what that truth would do to her.
She has already known enough pain surrounding her upbringing…Can I really bring more into her life?
Over the last few days, I’ve been contemplating just how much I’m willing to expose her to my world, if I should tell her everything or keep her away from it for her own safety.
I keep leaning towards the latter, but in a way, it still doesn’t feel right.
Eventually, when Victoria decides she has had enough, I pay the bill without mentioning the amount of food left on her plate.
Instead, I guide her outside, keeping a hand pressed against the small of her back. She stiffens under my touch, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by me.
With nightfall setting in, the city awakens with its bustle and neon signs as we get into the back of the SUV.
The drive is quiet and just as prickly as before, but again, I keep my thoughts to myself, even if I should be sharing them with her.
As the driver stops at a red light, I catch his questioning glance through his mirrors, but he doesn’t say anything.
Then, he continues through once the light changes, and that confusion doesn’t leave him.
Once he hits the open highway, that’s when the squeal of tires surrounds us, and the gunfire begins.
Those loud pops echo behind us, causing the driver to swerve as the adrenaline kicks in.
I glance behind us, feeling Victoria clenching up beside me.
Trailing us, a chromed-out sports car fires at us, ricocheting bullets off the armored vehicle. Right behind them, another follows, creating somewhat of a convoy.
When my eyes meet Victoria’s to see the confusion and raw fear in her eyes, reality sets in at once, kicking my instincts into overdrive.
Despite the chase, the driver keeps moving, focusing on the road ahead while picking up the speed to maintain some distance.
“Duck down—don’t bring your head up until I say!” I tell Victoria, grabbing her and keeping her close to shield her body as best as I can.
She curls up against me with panic rippling through her, arms over her head defensively. Despite her labored breaths, she doesn’t say anything.
With several guns firing at the SUV at once, I grit my teeth and try to protect us both. But the scales are far too uneven.
Taking the risk, I slide the pistol out of my waistband and roll the window down before firing at the assailants.
Their driving is reckless as they swerve and dodge other vehicles on the road, not paying enough mind to where they’re going. At the same time, it makes it even harder for me to meet my target.
With enough bullets reaching us, one sinks into the back window, causing a spiderweb of cracks to erupt throughout. The sight makes my heart drop.
When they start gaining on us, I bark at the driver, “Throw them!”
Wordlessly, the driver presses the gas harder, turning off onto another street. At the same time, I continue to fire, unsure if any of my shots are making it.
With my stomach in knots, I watch as the cars continue to pursue us, leaving me to question what else I’m supposed to do—how else I can keep Victoria safe.
Finally, two of our cars fall into line, surrounding the assailants and giving us some backup. They open minimal fire, but do more to put on the pressure as the tables shift.
Meanwhile, the driver hooks multiple turns, going down streets we wouldn’t normally take and meshing in with the other traffic.
With the shift in dynamic again, I withdraw my pistol from the window and surround Victoria, silently hoping the gunfire will stop for her sake.
After taking enough turns, I glance out the rear window and watch as the firing stops and those cars turn off in opposite directions while our men follow, surely prepared to keep close tabs on them.
Before long, the streets return to their normal noise and action level, and the car fills with tense silence.
The driver takes care to wind around a few different neighborhoods to make sure we’ve fully shaken them, and by then, he eases on the gas.
“We’re clear,” I murmur, loosening my grip on Victoria as she sits up again.
Wide-eyed still, she glances between the splintered window and me. “What the hell was that?”
I hesitate to answer, and then I rub my face before grabbing my phone and furiously texting Mikhail. “Goddamn Nikolaev…”
We’re quiet through the rest of the drive home, with Victoria shell-shocked and me sitting in that boiling anger.
Maxim has done his fair share of truly idiotic things…but to put Victoria’s life in danger like that…his own sister…
That was too close—far too close.
He never should’ve had the chance to fire a bullet anywhere near her or our growing child.
That was a bigger risk than I’ve ever been willing to accept.
By the time we get home, my mind is so wrapped up in all the ways that the chase could’ve gone wrong, and I catch myself getting stuck in a loop I never would’ve found myself in before.
Before…it was just me and my siblings. I didn’t have to worry about protecting a precious life, or that of my wife.
Now, I have too much at stake. Too much to lose.
With the tension coming to a head as we reach the living room, I feel Victoria’s questioning gaze on me.
Meeting her eyes, I can see the deeply troubled expression there…the fear and the confusion of it all.
With a hand against the back of the couch, I rub my eyes before looking at her again. “It wasn’t my intention for this kind of thing to reach you…But it’s too late.”
Victoria’s brows furrow slightly. “What do you mean? Tell me what that was back there, Roman.”
Trying to gather my thoughts and words, I sigh and debate myself once more.
If she doesn’t know, then that knowledge can’t hurt her.
But if she does know, then she can be vaguely prepared. At the very least, she won’t be so in the dark about everything going on.
“Those were Maxim Nikolaev’s men. Things have escalated beyond my control, and he’s looking for you.”
Her confusion deepens even further. “Me? Why me? I’ve never met him before…”
Dread trickles into my system, but I have no choice.
“You have…you just don’t remember.”
“What are you talking about?”
This is it…
“This might be hard to believe, but you were born Viktoria Nikolaev…Maxim is your brother—your real brother.”
Immediately, she stares at me, blinking through astonishment. “No…that isn’t possible. I told you a hundred times that I have no siblings.”
“You did—you do,” I murmur, trying my hardest to be as concise as possible for her. “When your father died, and your mother vanished, you and Maxim went into the foster system, but you were too young to remember any of it. I assume your name was Americanized once you were taken in.”
Victoria doesn’t move a muscle, and she doesn’t look away from me for even a moment.
I take another breath and continue, “I know it’s hard to believe, but it’s the truth…Originally, I thought I had the wrong woman when I captured you, but now I know my intel wasn’t wrong…you are Maxim’s sister.”
While Victoria stands there in complete shock, I watch as the reality of it all sets in, and I already know she’s losing herself to that spiral.
I never wanted to burden her with this, but here we are…and it feels even worse than I imagined.