Velvet Devil: A Russian Mafia Romance (19)

I can practically hear her frown. “What do you mean?” I don’t know why I let that slip. Brianna is sharp—she’d never miss a subtle tell like that.

“Nothing,” I say quickly. “Nothing at all. It’s just, he’s a busy man.”

“Too busy for you?”

“Bree,” I say, rapidly backpedaling for damage control, “I’m just a little nervous, okay? I didn’t mean that. He’s been better to me than I deserve.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“It means I… I didn’t tell him,” I finally admit. I cringe as soon as the words pass my lips. I’m a coward. A weak, pathetic coward.

“Oh.”

“Oh?” I say. “That’s it?”

“Cami, there’s a reason you were told to keep Jo a secret,” she says. “Of course you’d be nervous to tell anyone about her.”

“We’re not talking about just anyone, Bree,” I remind her. “This is Alex. In less than four hours, he’s going to be my husband.”

“And once he’s your husband, you can tell him.”

“It’s going to feel like a betrayal. He’s going to hate me for keeping a secret this big from him.”

“He knows you’re in the Witness Protection Program. That was a pretty big secret you trusted him with.”

“It’s not the same thing, Bree.”

“Cami, it comes down to one thing: do you think Alex is a good man?”

I shouldn’t hesitate. It’s way too late for that.

But I do.

“… Cami?”

“Of course I think he’s a good man,” I say. “It’s just, I’ve only known him for a year and a half. Is that long enough to know anyone? Much less someone you’re planning to commit to for the rest of your life?”

“You’ve been overthinking again.”

“Always.”

“Then let me ask you another question: do you believe he loves you?”

I think about the last eighteen months with Alex. How aggressively he wooed me. How lavishly he showered me with one expensive present after the next. He was generous and intent and charming.

But were any of those things love?

Three months after we first met, he told me he was falling in love with me. He’d held my hand over dinner, and said that no woman had ever made him feel like all his dreams and goals were finally within reach.

It was a beautiful sentiment. I’d gotten caught up in the moment, and it was easy to fall for him. Easier still after more than four years of isolation and loneliness since my old life was wrenched away from me in the blink of an eye.

Being with Alex Royston felt like I was getting a small part of my life back.

I guess I just never expected things to move so fast. I never believed I would be enough to hold his attention. Not long-term. Is that self-hatred of some kind? Self-sabotage? Self-something-not-so-nice, at the very least.

Maybe that’s why I shared the first secret when I told him my real name—because I thought it would bring down the whole house of cards. I wasn’t Emily Kunis. I was Camila Ferrara. And I had lied to him for as long as we’d known each other.

I was so sure he’d run in the other direction. But he stood his ground. Insisted he still wanted to marry me. Not just that, he swore he would give me the protection that was currently provided by the United States Marshals Service. He was rich and powerful and he could do what he said.

He could keep me safe.

We could move back to the States.

We could be happy.

After that, how could I have turned him down? More to the point—how could I risk all of that by telling him about Jo? No, it wasn’t worth it. That secret would stay buried until I could figure out what to do next.

“I think he does love me,” I say into the long silence.

“Okay then. So he’ll understand.”

But I’m not so sure.

Alex has never been anything but amazing with me. But I know he has a temper. I know he has high standards. I know he values loyalty above all else.

I’ve eavesdropped on enough of his business calls to understand that he has some darkness in him. He’s never shown it to me, but I know it’s there. I fear what will happen if I drag it to the surface.

Being in the Witness Protection Program is one thing.

Having a secret daughter is another.

“Just asking here, so feel free to ignore me,” Bree says, “but what happened? I thought you were going to tell him last week.”

“I chickened out,” I admit. “I just kept thinking about all the other questions I’ll be forced to answer.”

“I know, honey. It’s hard.”

“He’s going to want to know who her father is, Bree.”

“That secret you need to take to your grave,” she says immediately. “You know that, right? He can’t ever know. No one can.”

I nod, then I realize that Bree can’t see me. “I know,” I say. “But it means another lie.”

“A necessary one.”

“Yeah, a necessary one,” I repeat, but it doesn’t lessen my guilt. “Bree?”

“Yes, love?”

“You don’t think I’m making a mistake, do you?”