Chapter Nine
Lauren
It’s crazy how quickly time goes by.
It’s been weeks since Nikolai Rogov’s unsolicited visit to my apartment. We haven’t spoken since and I no longer feel his presence looming over me. But I do feel queasy, and I’ve been like that for a few days now.
I stare at the white walls in the doctor’s office as he taps away on the computer.
“It started about a week ago,” I explain, swinging my legs from the table. “It was light at first, but it’s started to get more intense recently.”
The doctor nods and returns to the computer. There’s more typing.
I exhale as I wait and run a slightly frustrated hand through my hair. I’m hoping it’s some sort of virus or a stomach bug, but deep down, something gnaws at me.
Nikolai and I didn’t use protection.
But there’s always a possibility that it could be something else—stress, for example.
Ever since Sophia’s wedding, my life hasn’t exactly been stress-free.
It takes its toll on you. All I’ve been able to think about since the wedding ceremony is how my bestie is going to be just another victim of the Bratva.
And then, there’s Timur. The mystery around Mom’s death.
Even if Timur is not directly responsible, there has to be some sort of connection.
Nikolai’s determination to stop me makes that very clear.
The only problem is that I just can’t seem to find anything.
The doctor turns away from the computer to face me. “Have you taken a pregnancy test?”
Shit.
Exactly the question I didn’t want to hear. Hearing those words aloud is freaking me out.
“Um. Should I?”
He shuffles around in his drawer and hands one over to me. “Take one now. You can use the bathroom.”
I stare at it in my hands for a while before heading to the bathroom, analyzing the packaging.
Since Mom’s death, I haven’t been trying to control things as much as I used to.
I learned my lesson that although the Universe doesn’t always have your best interests at heart, its will tends to be even stronger than mine.
But this?
I just hope and pray that the Universe can give me one line instead of two.
Locking myself into the bathroom, I unpack the stick, follow the instructions, and leave it on the counter to develop.
I stare at myself in the mirror as the seconds count down. Dark shadows hang under my eyes, visible beneath the layer of concealer I applied this morning. It’s not just the sickness that’s been keeping me awake.
It’s other things, too.
Our time on the couch with Nikolai still haunts me. I see his face. Still hear his deep, guttural moans. I can still recall the feeling of his length inside of me, thick, hot, and almost unnaturally hard.
I don’t know what I was doing that night, but my body betrayed me completely.
When an intruder enters your property, you’re supposed to kick them out and call the cops. Instead, I eagerly participated in jumping his bones, like we were in a crappy porn movie.
Scratch that.
‘Crappy’ isn’t exactly the word I’d use for the earth-shattering sex we had.
Besides, even though he technically broke into my flat, I know calling the cops wouldn’t have done much.
Not with someone like Nikolai Rogov. The only thing it would have achieved was getting Sophia into even more trouble.
With a Bratva ring on her finger, she’s part of the syndicate now. That puts her in the firing range.
Soph and I have only spoken a few times since.
She keeps saying things are ‘good’ with Timur and he respects her well enough to give her space whenever she needs it.
I don’t even know what that means. Perhaps I’m only getting farther away from the truth.
What if Nikolai is right about Timur not being involved in Mom’s murder?
Not that I trust Nikolai, no. I simply don’t see what interest he’d have in lying to me.
And then, there’s the thing he told me about my father. That he brought friends to the scene. What the hell is that supposed to mean?
Ping!
The timer startles me from my thoughts.
I pick up the pregnancy test.
And my eyes deceive me.
I blink a few times to make sure I’m not imagining things.
Because not one, but two lines are staring back at me.
Two freaking lines!
It can’t be.
I rush out of the bathroom and head back to the doctor’s office. “Can I have another one, please? I think I took the test wrong.”
He re-opens the drawer, hands me another test, and flashes me a knowing look. I rush away again, and repeat the procedure, silently praying for a different result.
Positive.
Again.
No!
My breathing becomes shallow. Anxiety presses into my chest. I toss both sticks in the trash, unsure whether I want to cry or scream or vomit.
What about my job? My freedom? I’m not ready for a baby, especially not from a mobster like Nikolai Rogov. What the hell was I thinking when I slept with him?
You were not thinking, girl.
You were too busy giving in to your body’s treacherous desires.
Dammit!
Whether I like it or not, I must face the consequences of my actions. I’m pregnant. And with Nikolai Rogov as the father, that tangles me up with the Bratva. How could I have been so stupid? Why did I have to go and sleep with him?
I don’t want anything to do with him.
Yeah, right.
Keep telling yourself that.
Admittedly, he’s a very good-looking guy who knows his way around the bedroom, but that’s about it.
I don’t know why I’m so drawn to him. It’s been over three weeks already and time is supposed to be the biggest healer.
But not for me, apparently. A small part of me wishes he was still around, lurking in the shadows.
Some nights when I’m sitting on my couch digging into the archives of Watson and Co.
Holdings, trying to put puzzle pieces together, I find myself hoping that he’s behind me, watching.
But he’s not.
He must have grown bored of trying to stop me.
It’s a shame, really. His presence brought something exciting into my life that I can’t explain. I’m drawn to him like a moth to a flame and I just can’t explain why. I have had a couple of boyfriends; I even had a stupid one-night-stand once, but no one compares to Nikolai Rogov.
I felt feral with him, and his cock reached places inside of me that no man has gone before. It’s no surprise he’s the lucky guy that knocked me up. He was so big that the tip was probably in my womb.
Shit, what are you thinking, Lauren?
I hate to admit it, and I will never admit it aloud, not to Sophia and certainly not to Nikolai, but there’s something inexplicable pulling me towards him.
Something cosmic. Something even stronger than my will.
When you’re sexually drawn to someone of the opposite gender, it usually means you like them.
But I don’t like the man. I’m just drawn to him like a compass needle to the magnetic north—helpless, inevitable, and completely against my better judgment.
And now, I’m carrying his baby.
I take a moment longer in the bathroom to fix up my appearance, and then head back to the doctor’s office, dazed. It feels like a dream. Like I’m floating through life instead of living it.
Actions have consequences, I suppose.
What would be the consequence of telling Nikolai?
Does he even deserve to know?
The doctor immediately registers my expression, typing the positive results into the computer. “In three weeks’ time, pay the hospital a visit for an ultrasound.”
I open my mouth to protest, to ask what makes him assume I'm keeping the baby, but at the last minute, I change my mind. I nod, thank the doctor, and leave, blowing out a breath when I exit the building.
The sun blinds me, the warmth of it hitting me with another dose of realization.
Pregnant.
Fucking knocked up.
What about work? Do I tell Father?
I silence the thoughts and try to get myself to think logically. Sophia needs telling first. She’s the only person I trust.
I slip out my phone and type out a text.
“Are you free to meet?”
The response comes in less than a minute.
“Yeah, I can come over to yours now.”
Thank God. I’m relieved that, despite being married to a dangerous Bratva criminal, I can still count on my bestie when I need her.
I pocket my phone and head to the parking lot. It’s empty, the late afternoon sun casting shadows onto the pavement. I glance at my watch, surprised to see the time nearing 5 PM.
Jesus.
How long was I freaking out in the bathroom for?
I scan my surroundings. Seeing nobody around, I quicken my pace, something uneasy crawling into my gut. Maybe another wave of nausea, but this one feels different. It’s the feeling of being watched. My body seems to sense when somebody is lurking, just like it did when Nikolai visited me.
Since Mom died, I developed a sixth sense for this kind of thing.
Her death was tragic, and it reminded me that there are bad people out here, only waiting for the right opportunity to do something evil.
When you’re related to a man like my father with dangerous friends and business partners, you can’t afford to walk through life assuming that you’re safe.
Mom’s tragic death proved that point perfectly.
I quicken my steps and I’m almost at my car when I feel something. The hair on my arms stands up, my skin prickling with awareness.
There’s a shift in the air. A change in frequency.
Shit!
I whip around, and carefully scan my surroundings. The shadows between parked cars seem darker, creating perfect hiding spots. Still empty. Except I know it’s not.
You are not alone.
My pulse spikes. The distance to my car suddenly feels endless, each step echoing louder than it should in the empty lot. Could it be Nikolai again, stalking me like before? A part of me wishes that to be the case. But it could also be somebody else.