Chapter 27 Valerie
Valerie
Three months.
Three months of relative peace that feels more like suspended animation than safety.
Three months since I told Lev about the baby, since we decided to face this together, since Patrick went silent after Rico's death.
And I'm starting to show.
Not obviously. Not to strangers. But in the mirror each morning, I see the subtle curve of my lower abdomen. The way my clothes fit differently. The physical evidence of life growing inside me.
Lev sees it too. His hand finds my stomach constantly now, unconscious gesture that makes my chest tight. Like he needs to confirm the baby is still there, still safe, still real.
The protective instinct has become overwhelming.
He upgraded security to the point where I've counted seventeen guards on the property at any given time. Cameras in every room except bedrooms and bathrooms. Motion sensors. Reinforced doors. Panic rooms stocked with supplies.
The estate is a fortress.
And I'm not allowed to leave it.
"It's not safe," Lev says every time I ask. "Patrick knows you're here. Knows you're important to me. Probably knows you're pregnant by now. You're the perfect target."
"I'm going stir-crazy," I argue one afternoon. "I need fresh air that isn't the back garden. Need to see something besides these walls."
"No." His voice is flat. Final. "Not negotiable. Not while Patrick is out there."
"It's been three months! Three months of nothing. Maybe he gave up. Maybe he moved on."
"Men like Patrick don't give up." Lev moves closer, cups my face. "They plan. They wait. They strike when you least expect it. And I will not risk you or our baby because you're bored."
I want to argue. Want to push back against the cage he's built around me.
But I understand.
Pregnant women are targets. Especially when they're carrying the child of a Bratva boss whose enemy wants revenge.
Patrick knows I'm the key to destroying Lev emotionally. Knows that hurting me, hurting the baby, would devastate him in ways no business loss ever could.
So I stay. Trapped in luxury. Safe and suffocating in equal measure.
It happens during breakfast.
I'm reaching for the orange juice when my shirt rides up slightly. Just an inch. Enough to show the curve of my stomach that's become impossible to hide in anything fitted.
Mila goes completely still across the table. Fork suspended midair. Eyes locked on my exposed skin.
Then she drops the fork. It clatters against her plate.
"Valerie." Her voice is small. Shaking. "Why is your tummy big?"
My hand flies to my shirt, tugging it down. Lev freezes with his coffee cup halfway to his mouth.
"Sweetheart—" I start.
"Are you sick?" She stands abruptly, chair scraping. "Is it cancer? Is that why you've been throwing up every morning, and Papa won't let you leave, and everyone's being weird?"
"No, baby, I'm not sick—"
Lev and I have delayed telling her because her nightmares have worsened over the past few months, and we've been waiting for them to quiet down so that the news of another sibling doesn't trigger her even more.
"Then why?" She's crying now. Full tears streaming down her face. "Why does your stomach look like that? What's wrong with you?"
Lev sets down his cup. "Mila, Cielo, come here."
"No!" She backs away from the table. "Tell me what's wrong! Tell me why Valerie's sick! I heard Mikhail talking about protecting her and the—" She stops. Eyes going wide. "The baby."
The word hangs in the air.
"You're going to have a baby?" Her voice cracks. "Like Mama did? Before the bad men came?"
Oh God. She thinks this ends the same way. Thinks history is repeating.
I'm around the table before I can think. Kneeling in front of her despite the protest from my lower back. "Mila, look at me. I'm having a baby, yes. But nothing bad is going to happen. Your papa won't let it."
"He didn't stop it before." The words are quiet. Devastating. "The bad men came anyway. And Mama and Dmitri—"
"That's not going to happen again." Lev is beside us now, voice firm but gentle. "I promise you, Mila. What happened to your mama won't happen to Valerie."
"How do you know?" She's sobbing. "How can you promise that?"
"Because I'm not that man anymore." He pulls her into his arms. "The man who lost your mama wasn't prepared. Wasn't paranoid enough. Wasn't ruthless enough. But I am now. And I will burn the entire world down before I let anyone hurt Valerie or the baby."
She cries against his chest. I stay kneeling beside them, hand on her back, letting her process.
After several minutes, the sobs slow. She pulls back enough to look at me. "You're really having a baby? Papa's baby?"
"Yes."
"How did it get in there?"
Lev's eyes go wide. "Mila—"
"Did you swallow a seed? Is that how babies work?" She tilts her head. "Because Elena said babies grow from seeds, but I don't understand how you eat a seed, and it becomes a person. That doesn't make sense."
Despite everything, I almost laugh. "It's not exactly a seed—"
"Then what is it? How did the baby get inside you?" She's genuinely curious now, fear temporarily forgotten in favor of seven-year-old logic. "Did Papa put it there? Can he make babies appear?"
"This is not a conversation for breakfast." Lev looks mildly panicked. "We'll explain when you're older—"
"I'm seven! That's practically grown up!" She crosses her arms. "And if there's going to be a baby, I should know how it works so I can help."
I bite my lip to keep from smiling. "Your papa and I will explain more when you're a bit older. But yes, we made the baby together."
"Like a project?"
"Something like that."
"And it's growing in your tummy right now?" She reaches out tentatively, hand hovering over my stomach. "Can I feel it?"
"Of course." I guide her hand to the small bump. "The baby is very tiny still. About the size of a lemon."
"A lemon?" Her eyes light up. "That's so small! How does a whole person fit in a lemon?"
"They grow. Over time. By the time the baby is born, they'll be much bigger."
"When will that be?"
"August. Late summer."
She does mental math on her fingers. "That's five more months! That's forever!"
"It'll go faster than you think."
She's quiet for a moment, hand still on my stomach, processing. Then, quietly: "Am I going to be a big sister?"
"Yes, Cielo." Lev strokes her hair. "You're going to be a big sister. Is that okay?"
"Will the baby love me?" The question is small. Vulnerable. "Even though I'm not their real sister?"
My heart cracks. "You are their real sister. You’ll have the same blood flowing through both of you, Mila. And you're going to be the best big sister in the world."
"I am?" She looks up with watery eyes.
"You are." I pull her into a hug. "You're going to teach them everything. How to be brave. How to make your papa laugh. How to sneak extra cookies when Elena isn't looking."
That gets a small giggle. "Papa says I'm not supposed to do that."
"Papa does it too when he thinks no one's watching." Lev shoots me a look but doesn't deny it. "So you're going to be an excellent teacher."
She's quiet again, then: "Will you leave? After the baby comes? Will you go away like Mama did?"
The question breaks me. "No, baby. I'm not going anywhere. I'm staying right here with you and your papa and the baby. We're a family."
"Promise?"
"I promise."
She hugs me tighter. Then pulls back and looks at my stomach with new wonder. "Hi baby. I'm Mila. I'm going to be your big sister. And I'm going to teach you everything important."
Lev watches us with an expression I can't quite name. Soft. Tender. Terrified and hopeful in equal measure.
"Can I tell the baby stories?" Mila asks. "So they know my voice when they come out?"
"Absolutely. The baby can hear you already, actually. Not clearly yet, but they can hear sounds."
"Really?" She leans closer to my stomach. "Hi baby! Can you hear me? I love you already! I can't wait to meet you!"
The sweetness of it makes my eyes burn.
This is what we're fighting for. This moment. This family. This chance at something good.
Mila chatters to my stomach for several more minutes before Lev gently redirects her to finish breakfast.
Later, when she's playing in her room, he finds me in the library.
"That went better than expected," I say.
"She thought you were sick and dying." His voice is rough.
"But now she knows the truth, and she’s so excited."
“All thanks to you?”
“No, not to me. But thanks to us. We did this together.”
That evening is the ultrasound.
Dr. Hale arrives at eight PM with portable equipment. An older woman, gray hair pulled back, kind eyes that have seen everything. She's worked with Bratva families for decades. Knows discretion is part of the job.
"Too risky for hospitals," Lev had explained when booking her to come in."
She sets up in our bedroom, everything looking professional and efficient.
Mila holds my hand because she insisted on being present. Wants to see her sibling on the screen. Lev sits beside me, trying to look calm and failing spectacularly.
I lie on the bed, shirt pulled up, while Dr. Hale squirts cold gel on my small bump.
"This will feel strange," she says. "But it doesn't hurt."
The wand presses against my skin. The monitor flickers to life.
And there it is.
Our baby.
Tiny. Barely recognizable as human yet. But moving. Growing. Alive.
The heartbeat fills the room. Fast. Strong. Steady.
Mila gasps. "That's the baby?"
"That's your little brother or sister," Dr. Hale confirms with a smile.
"It’s so small!" Mila moves closer to the screen. "But I can see them moving! Look, Papa! The baby is waving at us!"
Lev is frozen. Staring at the monitor. I see his throat work as he swallows hard.
Then tears start streaming down his face.
"That's the heartbeat," Dr. Hale says gently. "Very strong. Very healthy."
"It's so fast," I whisper, my own tears falling.
"Normal for this stage. Around 160 beats per minute." She moves the wand slightly. "And here, see this? That's the head. These are little arms beginning to form. Legs here."
"They have arms already?" Mila is riveted. "Can they wave at me?"
"Not yet. But soon they'll be able to move more. In a few months, Valerie will be able to feel the baby kicking."
"That's so cool!"
Lev moves to my side. Takes my hand. His grip is almost painful, but I don't care.
He's crying openly. Lev Volkov. The Pakhan. The man who terrifies grown men without effort.
Crying while watching an ultrasound of our baby.
"Everything looks perfect," Dr. Hale continues. "Development is right on track. The due date still looks like late August. Do you want to know the sex?"
I look at Lev. He's staring at the monitor, devastation and wonder mingling.
"Not yet," he says finally. Voice rough. "Not yet.”
Dr. Hale nods in understanding. Takes measurements, and prints images.
Mila gets her own copy of the ultrasound photo. Clutches it like treasure. "I'm going to show the baby when they're born. I'm going to say 'look, that’s you in mommy’s tummy!'
When Dr. Hale leaves, it's just the three of us.
Mila hugs me carefully, mindful of my stomach. "Thank you for giving me a baby brother or sister."
"You're welcome, sweetheart."
She kisses my bump. "See you in a few months, baby!"
After Lev tucks her into bed, he returns to our room. Sits on the edge of the bed holding the ultrasound photos with shaking hands.
"That's our baby," I whisper.
"Yes." He sets down the photos carefully. "That's our baby. Real. Growing. Alive."
More tears. I've never seen him cry like this.
"I love you." It bursts from him like a confession. "I've loved you for a while now, but I was too scared to say it. Too scared to be that vulnerable again. But watching that heartbeat, seeing that tiny person we made together, I can't keep pretending I don't."
My breath catches. "Lev—"
"I love you, Valerie. Love you despite the betrayal. Despite the lies. Despite every reason I shouldn't. You're it for me. You and Mila and this baby. My family. My reason for everything."
I'm sobbing now. "I love you too. So much. Even when I was lying, even when I was supposed to be your enemy, I was falling for you."
He kisses me. Gentle. Reverent.
When he pulls back, his forehead rests against mine. "We're going to survive this. Patrick. The threat. All of it. Because I will not let anything happen to you or our baby."
"I know."
We hold each other. Both crying. Both terrified and hopeful.
This is real. We're building something real from ashes and betrayal.
If we can just survive Patrick.
The door slams open.
Mikhail. Face grim. Urgent.
"We found him." He's breathing hard. "We've located Patrick. And boss, you need to hear this. Now."
Lev is on his feet immediately. "Talk."
"He's planning to hit the estate. Within forty-eight hours. This isn't speculation. This is confirmed intelligence from three separate sources."
The room goes cold.
"How confirmed?" Lev's voice is deadly calm.
"Intercepted communications. Surveillance footage. A source inside his organization." Mikhail pulls out his phone. "This is happening, Lev. The final confrontation. Patrick is making his move."
Lev studies the screen. His expression hardens. "Forty-eight hours."
"Maybe less."
"Then we prepare." Lev turns to me. "Valerie, you and Mila go to the safe room. Now."
"Lev—"
"NOW." He's already in combat mode. "Mikhail, full lockdown. Every man we have. I want this place turned into a kill box."
Chaos erupts. Men moving. Weapons being distributed.
Lev pulls me close. Kisses me hard. "Stay in the safe room. Protect Mila and our baby. No matter what you hear, you stay there until I come get you."
"Yes." I'm shaking. "Please be careful—"
"I love you." He says it fiercely. "Remember that."
Then he's gone.
Elena escorts me and Mila to the safe room. Mila is confused. Scared. I hold her while Elena secures us inside.
"Is Papa going to be okay?" She asks in a small voice.
"Yes." I stroke her hair. "Your papa is the strongest man I know."
Outside, preparations continue.
Patrick is coming.
And in forty-eight hours or less, this ends.
I press my hand to my stomach. To the baby who deserves to be born into peace.
"We're going to be okay," I whisper.
Mila curls against me. Elena stands guard.
And we wait for the storm to break.