He trusts me not just with information or responsibilities, but with his reputation among men who’ve served his family for decades. He’s willing to challenge tradition and risk their disapproval because he believes in my abilities.
The realization should make me happy. Instead, it fills me with a strange kind of pressure. What if I can’t live up to his faith in me? What if his trust is misplaced, and I end up proving Viktor and Dmitri right?
I’m so lost in my thoughts that I don’t notice the conversation in the sitting room has ended until the door opens wider and Viktor emerges. He sees me standing in the hallway and stops short, his weathered face registering surprise and something that might be suspicion.
“Mrs. Belsky.” Viktor’s tone is polite but wary. “I didn’t realize you were there.”
“I was just finishing my Russian lesson,” I say, holding up my phone and earbuds as evidence. “I didn’t want to interrupt your meeting.”
Dmitri appears behind Viktor, his expression equally cautious. Both men study my face, probably trying to determine how much I overheard. Tigran emerges last, frowning when he sees me. “Your Russian lessons are going well?”
“Slowly but surely.” I manage a smile despite the awkwardness of the situation. “I’m starting to recognize more words when people speak around me.”
“Good.” There’s approval in his voice, but also something else that suggests he knows exactly how much of their conversation I heard. “Viktor, Dmitri, we’ll continue this discussion tomorrow.”
The dismissal is clear. Both men nod respectfully and head toward the main part of the house, leaving Tigran and me alone in the dimly lit hallway. “How much did you hear?” he asks once they’re out of earshot.
I meet his gaze directly. “Enough to understand that you’re taking significant risks by including me in your business.”
“Are you sorry I am?”
The question catches me off-guard. “Are you asking if I’m sorry you defended me, or if I’m sorry I’ve put you in a position where you need to defend me?”
“Both.”
I consider the question seriously, weighing the warmth I felt at his advocacy against the pressure of living up to his expectations. “I’m not sorry you defended me. I’m grateful that you see value in what I bring to this organization.”
“And the second part?”
“I’m not sorry I’ve forced you to reconsider how this business operates,” I say after a moment, “But I am concerned about the consequences for you if I fail to prove myself worthy of your trust.”
Something shifts in his expression, surprise giving way to something softer. “You’re worried about me?”
“I’m worried about what happens to your authority if your wife turns out to be a liability instead of an asset.” I swallow a lump in my throat. “I’m worried about what happens to us if I can’t be the partner you need me to be.”
He steps closer. “You heard Viktor and Dmitri’s concerns.”
“I heard their concerns, and I heard you dismiss them without hesitation.” I search his face for any sign of doubt. “I heard you defend me against men whose opinions you value.”
“I defended you because everything I said was true.” He cups my face. “You are different from other wives. You do bring valuable perspectives, and you’re strong enough to be my partner in this.”
“How can you be so certain?”
“Because you’re standing here worried about my reputation instead of running from the responsibilities I’m offering you.” His smile is small but genuine. “You’re learning Russian on your own initiative instead of expecting me to translate everything for you.”
The observation makes my throat feel full again. “You noticed.”
“I notice everything about you, including how hard you’re working to understand this world. You’ve stopped looking for ways to escape this marriage and started looking for ways to improve it.”
“Is that what I’m doing?”
“Isn’t it?” He studies my expression carefully. “Unless you have some other reason for learning the language and asking to be included in business decisions?”
I shake my head. Somewhere between our wedding and now, I’ve stopped seeing this marriage as a prison and started seeing it as an opportunity. The realization should frighten me, but it feels warmly reassuring instead. “I want to be worthy of your trust.”
“You already are.” He traces the line of my jaw with his thumb. “There’s another meeting soon.” His expression grows serious. “I want you there.”
My eyes widen. “Viktor and Dmitri won’t approve. Neither will the others.”
