Chapter 3
Chapter Three
LYAH
H earing Niko finally come back, I push up into a sitting position on the bed and brace myself for the conversation we need to have.
“I need to speak to you.” I say when he comes into the room.
I wish my voice held a little more confidence, but it comes out soft and unsure.
Niko grunts, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it onto his bedside chair.
His eyes are bloodshot, his movements sluggish.
I can smell whiskey on his breath, which I know is a bad sign.
"Can't it wait?" he grumbles, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "It’s 3am and I’m tired."
I swallow hard, wringing my hands. "No, it can't." My heart pounds in my chest as Niko turns to face me, irritation evident in the set of his jaw.
“What is it then, that can’t even wait until morning?” he demands coldly, making me shrivel inside. This isn’t going to go well, I can already tell.
"I... I'm pregnant."
The words hang in the air between us, heavy and suffocating. Niko's expression doesn't change, doesn't soften. He just stares at me, his gaze unreadable.
"Are you certain?” he finally asks, his voice flat.
I nod, blinking back the tears that have sprung from nowhere. I guess somewhere deep inside, I was hoping for… something. "I only took one test, but it was positive. The literature says it’s more likely to give a false negative than a false positive."
Niko exhales sharply, turning away from me. "Fuck," he mutters under his breath.
I guess, to him, it’s not good news then.
“How did this happen? You have an implant. I know it hasn’t expired; I have a memo on my phone.”
I don’t know how to respond to that. He’s keeping tabs on my contraception that closely? This is worse than I feared.
He paces the length of the room, tension radiating off him in waves. Apparently, it was a rhetorical question, because he doesn’t seem to require an answer, which is just as well, since I don’t have one to give him.
"So, what are we going to do about it?" Niko asks, his voice cold and detached.
The question hits me like a slap. Do about it? As if this isn't a child but simply a problem to solve. I wrap my arms around myself, suddenly feeling very small and alone.
"I - I didn’t think we needed to do anything about it," I whisper, my voice trembling. "But, umm... I guess, ah, maybe we should talk about it."
Niko scoffs, shaking his head. "There's nothing to talk about. This can't happen, Emylyah. Not now."
My heart sinks, a heavy weight settling in my stomach. "What do you mean, it can't happen?"
He turns to face me, his eyes hard. "You know what I mean. My life, our life - it's not set up for a kid. It's too dangerous, too unpredictable. That’s why you had the implant."
Tears blur my vision as the full impact of his words hit me. He doesn't want this baby. He doesn't want our baby.
"But-" I start, but Niko cuts me off with a sharp gesture.
"No buts. We'll deal with this tomorrow. I need to sleep." He turns away, but instead of undressing and climbing into our bed, he leaves the suite we share without another glance in my direction.
I sit there, frozen, my arms wrapped tightly around myself as if I could somehow hold all the broken pieces together.
The silence in his wake is deafening. My hand drifts to my stomach, a protective gesture for the tiny life growing inside me - a life Niko seems to view as nothing more than an inconvenience.
Sinking back onto the mattress, I curl into myself, letting the tears flow freely now.
How did I imagine this moment would go? Certainly not like this.
Not with Niko's cold dismissal, his refusal to even discuss it.
The warmth of hope I'd been nurturing since seeing those two pink lines has been extinguished, replaced by a chill of uncertainty and fear.
I don't know how long I lay there, lost in a haze of hurt and confusion. The sky outside begins to lighten, the first hints of dawn creeping through the windows. I haven't slept, can't sleep. My mind races, replaying Niko's words over and over. 'This can't happen.'
But it has happened. This baby is real, growing inside me, whether Niko wants it or not. A fierce protectiveness surges through me, pushing back against the despair. I may not have much, but I have this child. And I'll fight for it with everything I have.
Several hours later, I drag myself out of bed, my muscles aching from the tension of the night.
The compound is silent as I pad down to the kitchen.
Niko and his men must have left already, or perhaps he never came back after storming out.
I try not to dwell on where he might be, who he might be with.
As I mechanically go through the motions of making coffee, my mind whirs with possibilities.
Could I raise this child on my own if Niko refuses to acknowledge it?
Do I have the strength, the resources? The thought terrifies me, but a small voice whispers that it might be better than the alternative - forcing a child to grow up with a father who resents its very existence.
The coffee maker gurgles, and I pour myself a cup, inhaling the rich aroma. As I take my first sip, nausea rolls through me. Right. No caffeine. I set the mug aside with a sigh, feeling utterly lost. Even this small comfort is denied to me now.
I wander aimlessly through the vast, empty space, my footsteps echoing in the silence.
I’m not alone, of course; far from it. Eyes watch my every move.
I feel them even if I can’t see them. This place is crawling with unseen soldiers, there for the protection of those who reside here.
Every luxurious room feels cold and unwelcoming, and I mostly stay in our suite.
If it had a kitchen, I’d probably never venture out of it.
This place has never felt like home, and the location, in Brighton Beach, even though it’s at the heart of the Eastern European community, cuts me off from my Manhattan friends. Right now, it feels downright hostile.
My hand drifts to my stomach again, a gesture that's quickly becoming a habit. "It's okay, little one," I whisper. "We'll figure this out."
But how? The question looms large, threatening to overwhelm me.
I have no family to turn to. There’s my mother, Lenka, but I know better than to take this to her.
As crazily overprotective as she’s always been, I have no doubt she’d encourage me to do whatever my husband thinks best and not make waves.
And except for Roisin, I have no real friends.
Well, that’s not entirely true. There’s Maricella.
We’ve become closer since she married Roisin’s brother Ciaran, but not close enough to confide in.
My whole life has always been mapped out for me.
Primarily under the strict control of my mother, until she handed me into Nikolai Radaevea’s care.
I’ve never been allowed to make my own decisions…
Unless you count the times Roisin and I used to sneak out as teenagers, under the guise of being at each other's house. The memory makes me smile. It’s probably the most freedom I’ve ever had.
Maybe that’s sad, but it’s not like I know any different.
Truth is, my world has revolved around someone else’s whims for so long, I'm not sure who I am any more.
A sudden, wild thought strikes me. I could run. Just pack a bag and disappear. It wouldn't be the first time I've started over with nothing; that was an enduring part of my childhood.
But the idea fades as quickly as it came. Where would I go? How would I support myself and a baby? My mother came from money, but I have none of my own. And more importantly, how long would it be before Niko found me? He's not a man who easily lets go of what he considers his.
Yeah, I really need to talk to my bestie and gain a little perspective.
I reach for my phone, my fingers hovering over Roisin's number. But I hesitate. It's early, and she has a baby to care for. I don't want to burden her with my problems, but I don’t know what else to do. I need someone to talk to before I spiral completely.
Taking a deep breath, I press call. It rings several times, and I'm about to hang up when I hear a groggy "Hello?"
"Roisin? I'm sorry to wake you. I just... I shouldn’t have called. Go back to sleep."
There's a rustling sound, then Roisin's voice comes through clearer. "Lyah? Are you okay? What's wrong?"
The concern in her voice breaks something inside me. Tears spring to my eyes again as I struggle to find the words. "It’s okay. I’ll talk to you later.”
Silence stretches between us for a moment.
Then Roisin says, "Get your skinny ass over here. I’ll be up by the time you get here.
" The way the Irish in her voice has become so pronounced, I know she means business.
It loosens everything inside me, and relief washes over me. "Are you sure? This can wait until…"
"Don’t keep me waiting," she interrupts, already sounding like her usual brash, bouncy self. “I’ll be more pissed if you’ve woken me for nothing.”
“I’ll be there,” I whisper, my knees weak with gratitude. I truly won the friend lottery when I found Roisin.
I hang up and quickly throw on some clothes, not bothering with makeup.
My hands shake as I grab my keys and purse and hurry to my car.
I know there’s a tracker on it which will telegraph my whereabouts to Niko or his men.
Just like one of them will silently follow me, even though I never inform anyone.
But it’s not like this is an unusual trip, and they keep their distance, at least. I’d hate having to live with a damn bodyguard constantly by my side.
I have little enough freedom. That would be the last straw.
The early morning streets are quiet as I drive to Roisin's place. My mind races, rehearsing how to tell her about the pregnancy, Niko's reaction, my fears. By the time I pull up to her house, my stomach is in knots.