Chapter 21
Hazel
Time flew by.
Five months had passed since I'd moved into Gromov Manor.
My belly was massive now.
It hung heavy in front of me, completely shifting my center of gravity. I had to lean back slightly when I walked, hands braced against my lower back, just to stay balanced.
The varicose veins in my legs stood out clearly, and my ankles stayed swollen. Standing for more than ten minutes sent an aching throb creeping up from my calves.
Even sitting on the couch, I needed two thick velvet cushions wedged behind me to ease the constant pain in my lower spine.
But none of these physical discomforts could touch the joy I felt inside.
Especially after that night on the roof. Viktor had officially proposed to me, sliding the ring onto my finger.
In that moment, every trace of anxiety and fear had dissolved.
Even these pregnancy burdens felt sweet sometimes. Because these heavy changes made being a mother feel real.
But I'd discovered there was someone even more excited than me.
Right now, Anya sat cross-legged in the middle of the living room Persian rug, surrounded by boxes, shopping bags, and torn delivery packages piled everywhere.
I adjusted the cushion behind me and sighed, staring helplessly at the mountain of items.
"Anya, you've bought way too much. Babies grow fast—most of this stuff won't even get used. You're just wasting money."
Anya didn't look up as she tore into another massive package.
"Please, Hazel. Don't be so cheap."
I shook my head at her stubborn profile. Before, Anya had loved buying me expensive clothes and jewelry, but I'd always firmly refused, and she'd eventually given up.
But that strategy didn't work when it came to the baby.
"At this rate, even if I were having quintuplets, they couldn't wear it all," I tried reasoning with her.
"Listen up, Hazel." Anya stopped and turned to face me. "You can refuse gifts for yourself, but you absolutely cannot take away my rights as a big sister."
Faced with this completely unreasonable dominance, I could only raise both hands in surrender.
"Hazel, you have to see this! It's absolutely adorable!" Anya suddenly shrieked.
She finally got the cardboard box open, yanking out masses of packing paper.
Then she excitedly pulled something out and held it high, waving it in my face.
A onesie.
More precisely, an impossibly tiny pale yellow cotton onesie. The collar had delicate white lace trim, with three tiny pearl buttons on the chest. The craftsmanship was exquisite.
But the size was ridiculously small—the whole thing was shorter than Anya's forearm.
"Isn't it adorable?" Anya's eyes sparkled as she held the onesie against her cheek. "This is the perfect birth gift!"
I stared at it helplessly and held up my fingers to measure. "Anya, that's way too small. That's for a kitten or a puppy. No human baby could fit in that."
"That's impossible!" Anya immediately protested, staring wide-eyed at the onesie.
"You'd better double-check," I said, fighting back laughter.
Anya frowned and grabbed the cardboard box, pulling out the long receipt. Her eyes scanned it quickly. Then she froze.
"What's it say?" I leaned forward deliberately.
"Pet clothing..." Anya bit her lip and read the product name awkwardly. She looked up and crumpled the onesie into a ball. "Damn it."
I burst out laughing on the couch. "I told you the size was wrong. How did you manage to buy pet clothes thinking they were for babies?"
"Shut up, Hazel!" Anya snapped, embarrassed, and grabbed a stuffed toy off the floor to throw at me. "It's the seller's fault for making pet clothes look so much like baby clothes!"
I caught the toy, laughing until I couldn't breathe.
We horsed around in the living room, the atmosphere light and happy.
Just as I was gasping for air, I felt movement in my belly. The baby kicked hard, the force creating a small bulge visible through my clothes.
I stopped immediately, both hands covering my stomach.
"The baby just kicked me," I said to Anya, delighted.
"Really?" Anya instantly dropped everything, eyes wide with shock. She scrambled across the carpet on all fours and pressed her ear against my belly, holding her breath.
"Quiet, quiet. Let me hear."
We stayed frozen like that, waiting for the next movement.
A knock suddenly shattered the living room silence.
Anya and I both turned toward the door.
The instant I saw who it was, Anya's smile vanished completely, replaced by extreme wariness.
I followed Anya's gaze.
An elegant, aristocratic woman had walked through the door into our line of sight.
She was a strikingly beautiful woman with an aggressive edge. She looked about thirty, with golden waves styled to perfection.
Her outfit was bold, but every detail screamed luxury. Four men followed close behind her.
All four wore black suits, built like brick walls, expressionless. They had professional communication earpieces, and obvious bulges under their jacket hems—guns.
Anya stood up from beside me, blocking me, muttering under her breath.
"What's she doing here?"
"Long time no see, Anya." The blonde woman stopped, red lips parting in a casual greeting.
But her eyes didn't linger on Anya. She looked past Anya's shoulder, her gaze locked firmly on me.
More precisely, on my swollen belly.
The woman stared at my stomach unabashedly for several seconds. Then she looked up and flashed me a dazzling smile.
"You must be Hazel Brooks."
Out of politeness, I instinctively started to stand to greet her, but the moment I moved, Anya grabbed my arm and pushed me back down on the couch.
The blonde woman completely ignored my silence and Anya's hostility. She kept smiling and introduced herself.
"I'm Valentina Rossi." She lifted her chin slightly. "I'm the daughter of the Rossi family on the East Coast. I've known Viktor for twenty years. We're old friends."
She paused, then winked playfully at me, her tone turning bright.
"And I'm also Viktor's fiancée."
Fiancée?
The word exploded in my head. I wondered if I'd heard wrong.
This couldn't be real.
Viktor had proposed to me himself not long ago. How could he have a fiancée he'd known for twenty years?
I stared hard at Valentina, trying to find any trace of a joke on that beautiful face. But she looked serious. There wasn't a hint of humor in her eyes.
"What the fuck are you talking about..."
Anya exploded. She jumped up from the carpet, pointing toward the door, her voice full of furious impatience.
"Who gave you a key? Who let you in? Take your guard dogs and get the hell out of here! Now!"
Facing Anya's rage, Valentina showed no panic or anger. She didn't even frown.
"Watch your language, Anya." Valentina's tone remained calm, carrying an elder's authority. "Is this how you treat your future stepmother? Your father clearly neglected your etiquette education."
"Stepmother? What kind of serious delusion are you suffering from, Valentina?" Anya laughed coldly, fighting back without retreating an inch. "Viktor already proposed to Hazel. Everyone in the manor knows. Stop spouting this ancient history nonsense."
"Proposed?" Valentina laughed lightly. She raised one hand to tuck a golden curl behind her ear, the gesture dripping with condescending mockery. "Viktor told me about that. I don't mind."
Valentina walked around Anya and took two steps forward, closing the distance between us.
She looked down at me, her gaze sweeping over my pregnant belly again.
"I know all about it." Valentina's voice dropped lower. "Before I came, Viktor told me everything."
My breathing quickened. Everything felt unreal, but Valentina's voice kept pounding in my ears, mercilessly shattering my defenses.
"You're carrying his child. He feels responsible for you, so he proposed." Valentina looked directly at me, her tone absolutely confident. "But our engagement was established years ago. That's also an undeniable fact."
"Shut up!" Anya turned, trying to push Valentina.
But Valentina's two bodyguards reacted instantly. They stepped forward, their massive frames blocking Valentina, hands on their holstered guns, eyes full of lethal warning toward Anya.
Valentina waved them back.
"Hazel, you don't need to be afraid." Valentina smiled at me, her tone full of that superior condescension the powerful showed the powerless. "I'm a very rational woman. I completely understand Viktor's arrangement."
She paused, continuing in that calm voice to dissect my existence. "Men have physical needs, and mafia families need heirs who carry their blood. You've provided him both those things. I absolutely won't interfere with that transaction between you."
I gasped for air, my throat feeling packed with coarse sand. I couldn't make a sound.
I looked down at my left ring finger.
The ring still gleamed coldly in LA's bright sunshine. But now it looked like a huge, mocking joke.
If Viktor already had a fiancée, what was that rooftop proposal? What did those words he'd said mean? What was I to him? A tool for venting desire and producing heirs?
"This can't be..." I finally made a sound, but it came out trembling, almost a moan.
"Let's just get along, Hazel. I think we'll be good friends." Valentina gave me a perfect smile.
Then she reached out and placed her palm flat on her own flat abdomen, stroking it lightly.
"Because I'm pregnant too."
She was pregnant too.
I stared at Valentina's flat stomach, my brain going blank.
If Valentina was pregnant, that meant Viktor had slept with her.
I rapidly calculated the timeline in my head.
Since I'd moved into the manor, Viktor had slept beside me every night. When had he been with Valentina? Those nights he'd come home late claiming gang business? Those days he'd gone to the East Coast on business trips?
He'd proposed to me on that roof, kissed me, told me he loved me, then turned around and climbed into this woman's bed, even gotten her pregnant too.
A wave of intense nausea hit me. Stomach acid surged violently up my esophagus. I bit down hard on my lower lip, and the thick taste of blood flooded my mouth.
"You're fucking lying!"
Anya completely lost it. She screamed.
"My father would never touch you! You lying bitch! Evelyn! Jack! Someone! Drag this woman out of here!"
Anya's roar echoed through the entire first-floor hall.
Seconds later, urgent footsteps came from the end of the corridor.
Head butler Evelyn arrived with several of the manor's armed guards, striding quickly into the living room.
"Miss Anya." Evelyn took in the tense scene and bowed slightly, his tone maintaining a butler's precision.
"Get her out! Now!" Anya pointed at Valentina, ordering harshly.
Evelyn turned to look at Valentina standing in the center of the living room, and the four armed bodyguards behind her. No surprise showed on Evelyn's face. He just maintained his professional composure and bowed slightly.
"I apologize, Miss Anya." Evelyn lowered his head, avoiding Anya's gaze. "Miss Rossi is a guest personally authorized by Mr. Gromov to enter the manor. Mr. Gromov instructed that from today on, Miss Rossi will reside in the manor in her capacity as his fiancée. I have no authority to remove her."
Evelyn's words shattered my last shred of hope.
Personally authorized by Viktor.
Anya stood frozen. Her lips trembled as she slowly turned to look at me, her eyes full of helplessness and deep heartbreak.
Valentina removed her hand from her abdomen, resuming that superior, elegant posture.
"Evelyn, my luggage is in the car." Valentina addressed the butler like the lady of the house. "Have it brought to the second-floor guest suite. I need to redecorate the curtains and carpet. I don't like the current colors."
"Yes, Miss Rossi. I'll arrange it immediately." Evelyn answered respectfully, then withdrew with the guards.
Valentina turned and gave me one last look.
"I'll be living here as Viktor's fiancée for a while, taking over the manor's social functions. I hope we can coexist peacefully."
After delivering that speech, Valentina ignored Anya and me. She turned and walked toward the staircase in her eye-catching red-bottomed heels, surrounded by her four bodyguards.
Her figure quickly disappeared around the corridor corner, but that suffocating oppressive feeling still lingered in the living room air.
The room fell into deathly silence.
I sat on the couch in the same position, my body rigid as stone.
The pet onesie Anya had bought by mistake slipped from my hand and fell on the carpet, mixing with the torn packaging boxes.
The bright pale yellow looked unbearably garish now.
I felt the baby kick hard again.
But this time, the movement brought no joy. It became a sharp pain that tore along my nerves straight to the deepest part of my heart.