Page 27 of His Ruthless Vow

"I'm working with Alana to stop this stupid wedding. You and Father seem to have your heads up your asses and you don't fucking care how it's going to affect our men. So I'm putting an end to it. I've got evidence from her side and ours that I plan to show the council."

Alexei rakes a hand down his face and chuckles darkly, then rests his head back and grumbles, "Can you just fucking come off it already?" When he lifts his head, he's glaring. "This wedding is going on whether you want it to or not. Leave the past buried where it belongs."

This is his typical response, something I already knew he was going to say. It puts me even more at ease because this is an old argument I know I can handle. I'm used to it. I've fought it out more times than I remember.

"Well, when you start seeing how it will destroy your men's faith in you, you'll want to stop it too." The beer is sweating, making my hand wet, and I watch him go from anger to defeat. He sighs and runs a hand over his face again.

"You're never gonna pull this off, Brother. That thing is so buried, so many people paid off."

"And I'm uncovering it all."

The familiar tension doesn't ease but he leans forward, scowling, and says, "Does Father know you're doing this?"

"No, and I appreciate it if you don't tell him. He'll just try to stop me and cause more fighting." If Alexei opens his trap, it will blow this wide open before I'm ready. I have a few more visits to make and more concrete proof to collect. I need time. My hope is to do this all at once right when the council is gathered again.

"You really expect to pull this off?" I know Alexei is sold hard on the fact that the marriage will end the fighting, and it might for a while. Then our family will fracture internally and half will hate what my father has done.

"Yes, and I expect you to respect it when it happens. Father went against the council and hid things. He should own up to that." I've never backed off this point and I don't ever intend to.

Alexei stands and stalks to the door, still angry with me but ready to put this fight down. My chest, however, is pounding, adrenaline so thick I can literally feel it in my veins. That ass had no right to barge into my house, and now there’s a risk my father will find out about my plans.

"I'll keep your stupid secret, but you're going to fail. We’ll be married in fourteen days, Brother. Start adjusting yourself to the idea that things will change."

He slams the door on his way out and my hand is already on my phone, dialing Alana's number. I'm furious. She has to know what's going on because the instant my father finds out, her father will. And mine might try to seriously silence me, but hers will play the disappointed card, lock her away from the world for a while. I might not get to talk to her.

But her phone goes to voicemail three times in a row. Then I text her with so many typos and flying thumbs, only to get zero response after pacing for ten minutes and downing another beer. Where is she? Why is she not responding to me?

My chest is heaving now, a hot ache burning behind my sternum at the idea that she might be ignoring me. Or worse—maybe my brother has already told her father about this. I know they're cozy now because of this stupid marriage alliance happening. I'll never forgive him if he got her in trouble.

But the problematic part isn't that Alana might get pinched by Alexei for sneaking out. It's that I can't control my anger right now. I can't calm myself. Alana is what I want, and I can't touch her or reach her by phone, and more than anything, I want to hear her voice. It's what my nervous system needs to calm down. And she's not responding.

How the fuck did I let this happen? She was just a means to an end, then she became something more. Now she's my fucking anchor and I can't reach her in this storm.

This is bad. This is very bad. If I don’t get this under wraps and figure it out, I might not be able to finish this task of stopping the wedding. I'll be too irrationally emotional, fly off the rails, and make mistakes.

I've got it bad for her. So bad, I confessed to this plot in front of my brother just to protect her. I'm losing it already.

18

ALANA

The hammer is about to come down.

I can feel it.

My stomach has been churning every time I let myself get the slightest bit hungry for the past few days. I'd dismiss it as a flu bug creeping up on me because it's that time of year, but I'm also late—by four days. This isn't good.

Dimitri and I had sex in that cabin so many times, and the only time he used protection was the first time. He only had one condom in his wallet and after that, I drank more and didn't care what he did. If I'm pregnant…

I pace to my window anxiously, watching the street below from behind the wispy curtains. Natalia heard me throwing up this morning and insisted she go to the pharmacy for me. I didn't tell her anything except that I don't want our parents to know and that it wasn't the flu. When she gets back she's going to have a million questions, and I'm not sure how to answer them.

How do I explain the situation when I'm the one who's advocating to end this entire situation? Natalia should not be marrying Alexei—and it's honestly not a matter of the arranged marriage thing. I think we're all old enough to understand contract marriages and agree or disagree with them. My stance is solely based on what that family did.

Yet here I am falling for one of them.

The conflict in my chest causes more bile to rise in my throat and I rush to the toilet and drop to my knees. My stomach clenches so hard it hurts, but nothing comes up. There's nothing to come up. I skipped dinner last night feeling too sick to my stomach to manage an appetite, and this morning, all I've done is sip some water to get the taste of vomit out of my mouth.

Tears well up in my eyes and I blink them back as I hold my hair out of the way and wait for the dry heaves to pass, staying put right by the toilet so I don't mistake them for empty, violent contractions of my stomach and accidentally spew on the carpet.