Chapter 9 Vera #2
So I watch as shapes appear on the grainy black and white screen and Dr. Petrov’s expression shifts from uncertain to certain. He adjusts something, focuses on a specific area, and then—
A sound fills the room.
Thump-thump-thump-thump-thump.
Fast and strong and unmistakable. A heartbeat. Tiny and perfect.
My baby’s heartbeat.
“There we are,” Dr. Petrov says softly, and there’s warmth in his voice. Wonder, even. “Approximately eight weeks gestation, by the size and development. Strong heartbeat—around 170 beats per minute, which is perfectly normal for this stage. Congratulations, Mrs. Volkov. You’re pregnant.”
The words seem to echo in the silent room. Pregnant. Pregnant. Pregnant.
I finally force myself to look at Dimitri.
He’s frozen. Completely still. He’s staring at the ultrasound screen with an expression I can’t read. His face has gone pale, his jaw so tight I can see the muscle jumping. Those gray eyes are fixed on that tiny flickering shape on the screen—the baby, our—no, my—no, Alexei’s—
Oh God. Oh God.
“Mr. Volkov?” Dr. Petrov ventures. “Are you—”
“Get out.”
The doctor blinks. “I’m sorry?”
“Get. Out.” Dimitri’s voice is barely above a whisper, but it's more terrifying than if he’d shouted. “Now.”
Dr. Petrov looks aghast. “Mr. Volkov, I really should discuss the pregnancy with your wife, go over prenatal care, and make sure—”
“I said get out.” This time there’s no mistaking the threat in his voice. “Take your equipment and leave. Now.”
Dr. Petrov looks at me, clearly torn between his medical duty and self-preservation. I manage a tiny nod. He needs to leave before he gets caught in whatever is about to happen.
“I’ll... I’ll come back tomorrow to check on you,” he says quietly, quickly gathering his equipment.
“To discuss next steps. In the meantime, try to eat something, stay hydrated, and rest.” He pauses at the door, looking back at Dimitri with something like concern.
“Be gentle with her. Stress isn’t good for the baby. ”
Then he’s gone, closing the door softly behind him.
Leaving me alone with Dimitri.
The silence stretches out, painful and suffocating. I can hear my own heartbeat, fast and panicked, competing with the memory of that other heartbeat still echoing in my ears.
Dimitri hasn’t moved. He hasn’t looked away from the spot where the ultrasound was. His hands are clenched into fists at his sides, and I can see him breathing—slow, measured breaths like he’s trying to maintain control.
Then he speaks, and his voice is so cold it makes me shiver.
“You’re eight weeks pregnant.”
It’s not a question, but I nod anyway. My throat is too tight to speak.
“Which means you were pregnant when we got married.” Still that eerily calm voice. Still not looking at me. “When I…” His jaw clenches. “When we consummated the marriage.”
“Yes,” I whisper.
“You’ve been pregnant this entire time. Two weeks of marriage, and every single day, you’ve been carrying someone else’s child.”
The words hurt and they’re meant to hurt but they’re also true, so I don’t defend myself. I sit here, waiting for the explosion I know is coming.
“Who?” The question is quiet. “Who’s the father?”
This is it. The moment I’ve been dreading since the wedding, the moment I found out I was pregnant, and when I saw Alexei’s casket.
I can’t tell him. If I tell him, everything—everything—will be destroyed.
But I can’t not tell him either. Not anymore. Not now that he knows I’m pregnant.
“Vera.” My name on his lips is a warning. “I asked you a question. Who is the father?”
My hands fist in the sheets so tightly I’m afraid I’ll rip them. I shake my head. “I can’t—”
“You will tell me.” His voice rises slightly, the calm starting to crack. “You’re my wife. You’re carrying someone else’s child. I have a right to know who—”
“It doesn’t matter—”
“It MATTERS!” The shout makes me flinch, pressing back against the headboard. He takes a step closer to the bed, and for the first time since I’ve known him, I’m genuinely afraid he might hurt me. “Tell me who the father is. Right now.”
I’m crying. When did I start crying? Tears course down my face, hot and fast, and I can’t stop them. I can’t stop any of this.
“Please,” I sob. “Please don’t make me—”
“WHO?!”
The word explodes from him, so loud and violent that I actually cry out. His face is twisted with rage now, all that careful control completely shattered. He’s breathing hard, his chest heaving, his hands clenched so tight I can see the half moons on his skin where his nails dig into his palms.
I’ve never been so terrified in my life.
“Alexei,” I whisper.
Dimitri goes completely, utterly still. Every muscle in his body frozen. His eyes lock on mine with an intensity that makes me want to disappear.
“What did you say?” His voice is dangerously soft and my self-preservation is screaming for me to run.
“It’s—” My voice breaks. “It’s Alexei’s baby.”
For a long moment, nothing happens. He just stands there, staring at me, and I can see him processing my words.
Then he erupts.
“YOU WERE SLEEPING WITH MY brOTHER?!”
The roar is so loud, so full of rage and pain and betrayal that I actually scream. He lunges forward, and I press myself flat against the headboard, certain he’s going to hurt me.
But he stops inches away, his hands gripping the footboard of the bed so hard the wood creaks.
“Answer me!” Spittle flies from his mouth and his face is red, twisted with fury. “Were you FUCKING my brother?!”
The crude word makes me flinch violently. “Yes,” I sob. “Yes, I was with him, I loved him, I—”
“You LOVED him?” He laughs, wild and bitter. “You loved my brother. My dead brother. And you never thought to mention this? That you were spreading your legs for a Volkov while our families were at war?”
“I didn’t know there would BE a war!” I’m shouting now too, through my tears. “I didn’t know he would—that they would—”
“How long?” He releases the footboard and starts pacing like a caged animal. “How long were you with him?”
“Eight months,” I whisper.
He stops dead. “Eight—eight months. EIGHT MONTHS. You were with my brother for eight months, and no one knew? Not your family, not mine, no one?”
“We kept it secret. We had to. If anyone found out—”
“If anyone found out, WHAT?” He spins to face me. “If anyone found out that an Ashford was fucking a Volkov? That you were betraying both our families? That you were—” He stops, his expression shifting to something even worse than rage. Understanding. Horror. “You were with him when he died.”
I nod. “I loved him. I would have done anything for him. We were going to—” The words choke off in another sob and a snarl of rage erupts out of him.
“Going to what? Run away together? Start a life?” His laugh is ugly. “Did he know? About the baby? Did he know he’d knocked up an Ashford before he died?”
“No,” I gasp. “I found out three days before and I never got to tell him. I never—” I can’t finish from the force of my sobs.
“So he’s dead. My brother is dead, and he died not knowing he was going to be a father.
And YOU—” He points at me with a shaking hand.
“You knew. You’ve known this entire time.
You stood in that courthouse, married me, let me touch you, let me—” His face contorts with disgust. “You let me fuck you while you were carrying my brother’s child. ”
The words are like knives, each one cutting deeper.
“I didn’t have a choice!” I scream back.
“You think I wanted this? You think I wanted to marry you, to be in this situation? My family sold me to you! They SOLD me like I was property, and I couldn’t say no because if I did, everyone would die!
You would have started a war and killed everyone I love! ”
“So you just didn’t mention it?” He shouts, his face red with rage. “You just thought, what? You’d hide it? That I’d never fucking notice when you started showing? When you gave birth to a baby that wasn’t mine?”
“I don’t know! I don’t know what I was thinking!” I’m sobbing so hard I can barely breathe. “Alexei was dead, my family gave me away, and I was pregnant and alone and I didn’t know what to do!”
“You should have told me,” he says through gritted teeth. “The first day. The first moment. You should have told me the truth.”
I laugh hysterically but there’s no humor.
“Are you serious right now? So you could what? Kill me? Kill the baby? Use it as a weapon against my family?” I wipe at my face with shaking hands.
“Why would I trust you with this when you made it clear from day one that I was your enemy and I was only here to be punished?”
I see it on his face the moment he realizes I’m right. I had every reason not to tell him and he’s given me no reason to trust him with this, with anything. But it doesn’t make him less angry. If anything, it makes it worse.
“He lied to me.” His voice breaks slightly. “My brother. The person I trusted most in this world. He looked me in the eye every day for eight months and lied about where he was going, what he was doing, and who he was seeing. He was with YOU. The enemy.”
“I wasn’t his enemy,” I say, my heart twisting at the memory of Alexei. “We were just... us. Two people who fell in love before we knew what our names meant.”
“And now he’s dead, and you’re here, pregnant with his child, and I—” He runs both hands through his hair, pulling at it like he wants to rip it out. “I married you. I married you to punish your family, to get revenge, and the whole time you were carrying my brother’s baby.”
He starts laughing and it makes the hairs on the back of my neck raise. It’s a terrible sound, broken and wrong.
“The joke’s on me, isn’t it?” He looks at me, and his eyes are wild. “All this time, I’ve been torturing you, making your life hell, and you were pregnant with Alexei’s child. With the last piece of him. And I didn’t even know. He’s been here the whole time, and I didn’t even KNOW.”
“Dimitri—” I reach out before I realize what I’m doing, but he jerks away like my touch would burn him.
“No.” The word is venom. “Don’t touch me. Don’t speak to me. Don’t—” He backs toward the door, his breathing ragged. “I can’t. I can’t even look at you right now.”
My heart seizes. “Where are you going?” I ask desperately.
“I don’t know. Anywhere but here.” He grabs the door handle, yanks it open. “Anywhere that isn’t near you and that—” He can’t even say it. Can’t even acknowledge the baby. “Just stay away from me.”
He slams out of the room, and the sound is like a gunshot.
Then I hear more crashing from somewhere in the house. Glass shattering. Something heavy hitting a wall. A roar of pure rage that makes my blood run cold.
He’s destroying something. Maybe everything. Maybe the whole house.
I curl up on my side, wrap my arms around my stomach, and sob into the pillow until I can’t breathe.
He knows. He finally knows.
And it’s even worse than I imagined.
Because it’s not just about me lying to him. It’s not just about being pregnant with someone else’s child.
It’s about Alexei. His brother.
And now he knows that Alexei kept this huge secret from him. That his baby brother, who he trusted completely, was in love with an Ashford. He was sleeping with the enemy. He was lying to him every single day for eight months.
The betrayal he feels isn’t just from me. It’s from Alexei too.
And Alexei isn’t here to explain, to apologize, or make it right. He’s dead, which means all that rage, all that hurt, all that betrayal has nowhere to go except at me.
I press my hand harder against my stomach. Alexei’s child. Our child.
The last piece of him.
And Dimitri hates us both for it.
More crashes echo through the house. Closer now. Right outside my door.
I hear his voice, roaring something incomprehensible. More breaking. The sound of fists hitting walls.
I’m more terrified than I’ve ever been because the man destroying things on the other side of that door isn’t the cold, controlled Dimitri I’ve come to know. That man was dangerous, but predictable.
This man is something else entirely. Something primal and wounded and furious beyond reason.
This man could do anything.
And I’m trapped in here, pregnant and defenseless, with nowhere to run.
So I just cry. I cry for Alexei, who I’ll never see again. I cry for this baby, who will grow up in a house full of hatred. And I cry for myself, for the impossible situation I’m in.
I don’t know what happens next.
I don’t know if Dimitri will ever forgive me.
I don’t even know if he’ll let me live.
All I know is that the secret I’ve been carrying for eight weeks is finally out.
And everything is broken.