Chapter 44 Mikhail
MIKHAIL
The phone call from Elena shatters my world in three words. “She’s collapsed in the garden!”
I’m already moving before my brain fully processes the information, my chair crashing backward as I bolt from my office.
The drive to the compound takes twelve minutes that feel like twelve hours.
My hands grip the steering wheel so tightly my knuckles turn white, and I barely register the traffic lights I run or the cars I cut off.
The only thought pounding through my skull is “Please let her be okay, please let them both be okay.”
I screech to a stop in front of the mansion and sprint through the entrance. Elena meets me in the foyer, her face pale and tear-streaked.
“Where is she?” The words come out as a growl.
“The medical suite. The doctor is with her now.” Elena’s voice shakes. “There was so much blood, Mr. Artyomov. I found her in the garden and—”
I don’t wait to hear the rest. I take the stairs three at a time, my heart hammering against my ribs. The medical suite I installed weeks ago suddenly feels like the best decision I’ve ever made, even as terror claws at my throat.
The OB GYN doctor I hired to remain on call just for Sopia looks up when I burst through the door.
Her expression is grave, and my stomach drops to my feet.
But then I see Sophia on the examination table, conscious and crying, and relief floods through me so intensely I have to grip the doorframe to stay upright.
“Mikhail.” Her voice breaks on my name, and I’m at her side in an instant.
I gather her into my arms, careful of the IV line running into her hand.
She’s trembling, her face buried against my chest, and I can feel her tears soaking through my shirt.
My own eyes burn as I hold her, one hand cradling the back of her head while the other rests protectively over her stomach.
“I’ve got you,” I murmur into her hair. “I’ve got you both. You’re safe now.”
The doc clears her throat, and I reluctantly pull back enough to look at her.
She’s in her fifties, with steel-gray hair and kind eyes that have seen too much suffering.
Right now, those eyes are filled with concern that makes my blood run cold.
“Mr. Artyomov, we need to talk about your wife’s condition.”
I nod, my jaw clenched so tightly it aches. Sophia’s hand finds mine, her fingers threading through mine with desperate strength.
“Mrs. Artyomov has been experiencing severe pregnancy complications for several weeks now.” Her voice is professional but gentle. “Cramping, spotting, abdominal pain. The bleeding today was significant enough to cause her to lose consciousness.”
Several weeks. The words echo in my mind, and I turn to look at Sophia. Her blue eyes are red-rimmed and filled with guilt.
“You’ve been hiding this from me?” My voice comes out rougher than I intend. “For weeks?”
“I didn’t want to worry you.” Fresh tears spill down her cheeks. “You were already dealing with so much, and I thought I could handle it, and I’m so sorry, Mikhail. I’m so sorry.”
The apology breaks something in my chest.
She’s been suffering alone, terrified and in pain, because she thought she needed to protect me.
Because my overprotective behavior made her feel like she couldn’t come to me with her fears.
“The baby?” I force the question past the lump in my throat.
“The fetal heartbeat is strong still,” Dr. Petrov says, and I feel Sophia sag with relief against me.
“But Mrs. Artyomov needs complete bed rest for the remainder of her pregnancy. No stress, no physical exertion, no excitement of any kind. I’m prescribing medication to help prevent further complications, but this is serious.
The threatened pregnancy then this? If she doesn’t follow these instructions exactly, we could lose the baby. ”
The words hit me like bullets.
Lose the baby.
Our child, the tiny life we’ve created together, could be gone because I’ve been so focused on external threats that I missed the one happening right in front of me.
“Whatever she needs,” I say, my voice steady despite the fear coursing through my veins. “Whatever it takes. Money is no object.”
“It’s not about money.” The doctor meets my gaze directly.
“It’s about rest and reducing stress. Which means, Mr. Artyomov, that you need to create an environment where your wife feels safe enough to tell you when something is wrong.
Where she doesn’t feel like she has to hide her pain to protect you. ”
The accusation stings because it’s true.
I’ve been so busy building walls around Sophia, so consumed with keeping her physically safe, that I’ve made her feel emotionally isolated.
She couldn’t come to me with this because she was afraid of adding to my burden.
I’ve failed her in the worst possible way.
After the doctor leaves with instructions for medication and follow-up appointments, I carry Sophia to our bedroom. She’s exhausted, her body limp in my arms, but she clings to me like I’m her lifeline.
I settle her carefully on the bed, propping pillows behind her back and pulling the covers up to her waist.
Then I sink down beside her, taking her hand in both of mine.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” The question comes out quieter than I intend, all the anger drained away and replaced by hurt. “Did you really think I wouldn’t want to know?”
“I thought I could handle it.” She won’t meet my eyes. “I thought if I just rested more, if I was careful, it would get better on its own. And you were already so stressed about the business, about keeping us safe. I didn’t want to be another problem you had to solve.”
“You’re not a problem.” I lift her hand to my lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “You’re my wife. The mother of my child. You’re everything to me, Sophia. Don’t you understand that?”
“I understand that you’ve been drowning.” She finally looks at me, and the pain in her blue eyes makes my chest ache. “I see it every day. The weight of responsibility crushing you. The impossible choices you have to make. I didn’t want to add to that.”
“So you suffered alone instead.” I stroke my thumb across the back of her hand. “You were in pain and scared, and you didn’t think you could come to me.”
“I’m sorry.” Her voice breaks. “I’m so sorry, Mikhail. I should have told you. I should have trusted you.”
“No.” I shake my head, the guilt settling over me like a shroud.
“I should have made you feel like you could trust me. I’ve been so focused on protecting you from external threats that I didn’t realize I was becoming a threat myself.
My overprotectiveness, my need to control everything, it pushed you away when you needed me most.”
I stand and pace to the window, my hands clenched into fists at my sides.
The compound stretches out below, all the security measures I’ve put in place to keep her safe.
But what good are walls and guards if she doesn’t feel safe enough to tell me she’s in pain?
“Things are going to change,” I say, turning back to face her. “Starting now.”
“Mikhail—”
“I’m stepping back from day-to-day operations.” The decision crystallizes as I speak it aloud. “Tony can handle most of it. Viktor and the others can manage the rest. My priority is you and our baby. Nothing else matters.”
“You can’t do that.” Sophia struggles to sit up straighter. “Your organization needs you. Your men depend on you.”
Ever since she heard me talking about the dirty councilman weeks ago, Sophia’s position on my work has changed somewhat.
She no longer thinks I’m out to kill anyone who gets in my way and she knows I’m trying to go legit, but that it will take a while.
“And my wife needs me more.” I return to the bed, sitting on the edge and taking her face in my hands. “I’ve been trying to be the pakhan and the husband and the father-to-be, and I’m failing at all of it. Something has to give, and it’s not going to be you. Not again.”
Tears stream down her face, and I wipe them away with my thumbs. “I love you,” she whispers. “I love you so much, and I’m terrified of losing you to this life. But I’m also terrified of asking you to give it up.”
“You’re not asking. I’m choosing.” I lean forward, resting my forehead against hers. “I’m choosing you. I’m choosing our family. The empire can survive without me for a while. But I can’t survive without you.”
She kisses me then, soft and desperate, and I pour everything I can’t say into that kiss.
All my fear and love and determination to be better, to do better, to be the man she deserves.
When we break apart, I help her lie back against the pillows. “Rest now. I’ll handle everything.”
“Promise me something,” she says as her eyes start to drift closed. “Promise me you won’t disappear into your office. That you’ll actually be here, with me.”
“I promise.” I press a kiss to her forehead. “I’m not going anywhere.”
I stay with her until she falls asleep, her hand still clutching mine.
Then I carefully extract myself and head downstairs to make the calls that will reshape my organization.
Tony first, to explain the new chain of command. Then Viktor, to ensure security remains tight even with my reduced involvement.
I’m in the middle of my third call when my phone buzzes with an incoming message from Viktor.
The words on the screen make my blood run cold.
Boss, we have a problem. The Volkovs are making moves on our territory. Three of our warehouses hit in the last hour. They’re testing us.
I stare at the message, my mind racing.
The Volkovs are one of the most dangerous families in the city, and they’ve been waiting for any sign of weakness to move against us.
I glance up the stairs toward our bedroom, where Sophia sleeps, trusting me to keep my promise.
Then I look back at the phone, at the crisis that demands my immediate attention.
The choice should be simple. I just told her I was choosing family over empire.
But if I don’t handle this now, if I let the Volkovs gain a foothold, the resulting war could destroy everything I’ve built, putting Sophia and our baby in even more danger.
My finger hovers over the call button, and I realize with sinking certainty that no matter what I choose, I’m going to fail someone.