Chapter 21 Mila
Mila
I’m pregnant with a criminal’s baby, and there’s no way out.
The thought circles through my mind like a broken record as I stare at the concrete ceiling of the underground bunker. Six weeks. Dr. Orlov’s words replay in my head on repeat. Six weeks ago, Alexei took my virginity without either of us knowing what we were starting.
Now, I’m carrying his child.
A knock on my bedroom door interrupts my spiral. “Mila? Can we talk?”
Alexei’s voice carries through the reinforced steel. I’ve been hiding in here since Dr. Orlov delivered the news, trying to process what this means for my future.
“Go away,” I demand with a childish whine.
The door handle turns. Of course, he has keys to everything in this place.
Alexei steps inside, carrying a tray with soup and crackers. “The doctor said you need to eat.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“You’re eating for two now. That changes things.”
I sit up in bed and glare at him. “Don’t start with the ‘eating for two’ crap. I just found out I’m pregnant. Give me five minutes to process before you start making decisions about my nutrition.”
He sets the tray on the nightstand and sits in the chair by the window. “How are you feeling?”
“Terrified. Angry. Trapped.” I pull my knees to my chest. “How do you think I’m feeling?”
“I think you’re overwhelmed. But this doesn’t have to be a disaster.”
I sputter my lips. “I’m pregnant with a baby I didn’t plan, while hiding in an underground bunker because people want to kidnap me. My entire life just got derailed.”
“Your life isn’t derailed; it’s just taking a different direction.”
I want to throw something at his head. “A different direction? Alexei, I’m twenty-three years old, and I only have one semester left before I get my doctorate because I’ve busted my ass to get it done early. I was supposed to graduate. Now what? I drop out of school to raise a baby in this world?”
“You don’t have to drop out. You would graduate before the baby comes.”
“And how can I finish my degree while pregnant and dealing with constant security threats? How can I attend classes or defend my thesis while hiding from people who want to use me as leverage?”
His shoulders slump as he replies, “What do you want me to say?”
“I want you to acknowledge that having your baby means I can never go back to my normal life. That I’ll be permanently tied to your world whether or not I want to be.”
“Would that be so terrible? Being permanently tied to my world. To me. Would it really be the worst thing that could happen?”
“That’s not the point.”
“It is the point. You’re acting like this pregnancy is a prison sentence. Like being connected to me is a punishment.”
I stare at him in disbelief. “You’re missing the point. This isn’t about whether being with you is good or bad. It’s about choice. About having control over my future.”
“You have choices.”
“My choices are to accept this life or raise a child alone while constantly looking over my shoulder for your enemies.”
“That’s not—”
“That’s exactly what it is. This baby makes me a permanent target. Anyone who wants to hurt you can use our child to get to you. Anyone who wants to control you can threaten us. My independence just became impossible.”
Alexei stands and stuffs his hands in his pockets. “I’ll protect you.”
“For how long? Forever? What kind of life is that for a child?”
“My father protected me and Dmitri. We survived.”
“Survived isn’t the same as thrived. Do you want our child to grow up the way you did? Locked away from the world and taught to be afraid of everyone outside the family?”
“I want our child to be safe.”
“Safe and free don’t have to be mutually exclusive.”
“In our world, sometimes they do.”
I push myself off the bed. The room is too small for proper pacing, but I need to move. Need to do something with the restless energy building inside me.
“I can’t live like this,” I tell him. “With you making decisions about my life based on what you think is best for me.”
“I know this world better than you do. I know what the threats are and how to handle them.”
“And I’m supposed to just trust your judgment? Just accept that you know what’s best for me better than I do?”
“Yes.”
The blunt answer makes me stop pacing. “Just like that? No discussion? No consideration for what I want?”
Alexei crosses the room and grabs my shoulders, shaking me just enough to get my attention. “You don’t understand the kind of people we’re dealing with. The things they’re willing to do.”
The accusation makes anger flare in my chest. “I’m writing a dissertation on organized crime families. I understand the risks better than you think.”
“Understanding the theory isn’t the same as living the reality.”
“So, I should just defer to your superior knowledge and experience? Accept that you know better than me about everything?”
“About this? Yes.”
I wrench away from him. “That’s not how relationships work, Alexei. Equal partners don’t just submit to each other’s judgment on everything. Your decisions could get me killed, too, you know. The restaurant proved that. Your need to publicly claim me put us both in danger.”
He flinches like I hit him. “That was different.”
“How is your lack of control different from my supposed naivety?”
“I was protecting what’s mine.”
“And there it is. I’m something you own. Something you get to control because you’ve decided I belong to you.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“It’s exactly what you meant. You can’t help yourself. Everything comes back to possession with you. Let me ask you something: When’s the last time you trusted someone to make their own decisions about their safety?”
“Trust has nothing to do with this.”
“Trust has everything to do with this. If you trusted me, you’d let me make informed choices about my life instead of making decisions for me.”
“Trust gets people killed.”
Something in his tone makes me look at him more closely. There’s pain there, an old pain that goes deeper than our situation.
“What happened, Alexei? Who did you trust that got someone killed?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It matters to me. It matters to help understand why you can’t let anyone make choices.”
“Drop it, Mila.”
“No. If I’m going to spend the rest of my life dealing with your control issues, I deserve to know where they come from.”
“You don’t need to know anything except that trust gets people killed.” He stands abruptly. “We’re getting married.”
The sudden change of topic makes me blink. “What?”
“We’re getting married. Before the baby comes. Before anything else happens.”
“That’s not a proposal; that’s a command.”
“Marriage legitimizes this relationship. Makes you family in ways that matter legally and socially.”
“And gives you permanent claim over me.”
“Yes.”
The brutal honesty should be refreshing. Instead, it makes my stomach clench.
“I need time to think about this.”
“There’s nothing to think about. You’re pregnant with my child. We’re getting married.”
“See? You’re doing it again. Making decisions for us.”
“I’m making the only decision that makes sense.”
“For you.” I wave my hands in his general direction. “It makes sense for you.”
“We are trapped by circumstances. The question is whether we make the best of it or fight reality.”
I stare at this man who wants to marry me for protection instead of affection. He sees our relationship as a strategic alliance that needs legal backing.
Understanding hits me like cold water. Being with Alexei means accepting that my independence will always be secondary to his need to protect what he considers his. Marriage won’t change that. It will only make it permanent.
This isn’t about building a life together or getting a fairytale happy ending. This is about him securing his claim to me and our baby. Whether that’s enough to build a marriage on remains to be seen.