Page 44 of Marrying the Silver Fox

It’s so absurd, I almost burst out laughing.

How fucking dare he? How dare he act like we have any kind of connection at all, when he knows damn well it’s bullshit? He’s talking like this is just a patch job, like he can cover up the truth of everything if he just finds the right way to spin it. Some sleazy journalist, working overtime to make sure the only story that’s out there is the one that most benefits him.

“I’m not going to lie to your father,” I reply, trying a different approach. “I respect him too much. And besides⁠—”

“Oh, you’re going to do exactly what you’re told,” he replies, and he reaches down, pushing his jacket aside and letting me see the glint of a gun pressed against his hip.

Cold dread runs through me. It’s not the first time I’ve seen a gun—God knows my parents got us into some shady situations at times—but it’s the first time I have been on the receiving end of a threat, and it feels very, very different.

I need something big. A big swing, to prove to him that this isn’t the right idea. Even to him, this must sound crazy, and I can’t believe for an instant that he would be willing to go through with this if he knew he was bringing a child into this mess. If there’s one thing he seems to be committed to, it’s his family, and I have to try and appeal to that in any way I’m able.

“Max, I’m…I’m pregnant.”

There it is. I blurt out the words, staring at him, reading his face for some kind of reaction.

At first, he looks surprised. I wonder if he thought it was just a game to his brother, being married, that he’d make no attempt to build a family of his own. But then a smile spreads further over his face. “Perfect,” he murmurs, pushing his face close to mine. “Then I won’t have to get you pregnant myself.”

Tears spring to my eyes, defeat clutching at me. So he would have done it himself if I wasn’t already with child. The thought sickens me. He would have raped me, given the chance, and God knows I might not be entirely safe from that, even if I am pregnant. If he wants more children, after this…

“But it’s not your child,” I protest desperately. “You can’t keep this child from their father⁠—”

“They’re not going to know a father other than me,” he spits back. “I’ll raise them. My heir. The next generation will belong to me. If that isn’t enough to seal the deal for Dad, I don’t know what will.”

He reaches out to touch my face, and I twist my head away from his, closing my eyes and swallowing hard. I hate this. I hate the way he touches me, the way he almost feels tender, even though I know there’s not an ounce of that in him.

“You’ll learn to care for me,” he tells me. “Trust me, Andie.”

“I’ll never care for you,” I spit back at him, before I can stop myself.

But he just smiles, amusement flicking in his eyes. “You’ll find a way,” he replies, and he glances down to my belly—a threat, though he doesn’t speak it out loud. And with that, he turns on his heel and steps out the door, pulling it shut behind him with a loud crack.

I run over to it, trying to wrestle it back open, but the heavy padlock thuds against the wood before I can. Tears brim in my eyes, then go racing down my cheeks as I sink to my knees, wrapping my arms around myself.

I don’t know what he’s going to do to me now that he has me here. But I know the only thing I care about right now is ensuring that my little one is safe.

And keeping my child from the clutches of that monstrous creature who thinks he has some kind of claim to me.

22

NIKOLAI

My phone buzzes on the dashboard of the car, and I snatch it up at once, glancing down at the message waiting for me.

Cleared the West side. No sign of his car here.

I grimace. No closer to finding the fucker, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to make it easy for him to run from me. I drop the phone into my pocket and reach for the coffee sitting in front of me, taking a long sip, though it tastes more like ashes in my mouth right now.

I’m telling myself that I need the caffeine to keep myself awake, but I know it has nothing do to with that. I couldn’t sleep now even if I wanted to, head overstuffed with all the thoughts of what Max could be doing to Andie.

I doubt he would have killed her—maybe I just don’t want to believe that I could have lost her, but surely, he must see that my father is too fond of her to be able to risk something like that. If he takes her out, he’ll have to be the one to explain what happened to her, and I won’t hesitate in making it known that he was the one who took her from us.

But whatever he has planned for her….fuck, it could be so much worse than that. It makes me sick to my stomach to think of what he might have in store for her. She’s a strong woman, that much is obvious, but that doesn’t mean she’s going to be able to handle just anything that he throws her way. Especially now that she’s⁠—

Especially now that she’s pregnant. My mind hollows for a moment when I remember that aspect of all of this, the cold, hard shock of knowing that my child is a part of this too. No matter how Andie feels about me, I know she would rather have me raising that baby than Max. Not that I’m going to let him keep her locked up long enough to allow something like that, but still…

I have my men spread out across the city, after we tracked down the car that he used to drive down here and put out the license plate to pretty much everyone in New York. I’ve made it clear that there’s a reward in it for anyone who wants to hand Max over to me, but I don’t know how much help that’s going to be.

If he already has Andie somewhere outside the city, I might not have the connections to ensure I can get hold of her again. The thought makes my palms itch with an emotion I can’t quite name, the weight of it all more than I can take. I sip the coffee again, as though more caffeine will go some way to soothing the turmoil within me right now.