Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Daisy
"So." The nurse swept in. All smiles and charm that didn’t really reach her eyes, which never once met mine as she busied herself around the room. Finally, she came to a rest at the foot of my bed to check my charts. "The doctors have said you're free to go."
"Oh?" Shock lifted my eyebrows up. Without meaning to, I glanced at my phone. It wasn’t even seven a.m. And I hadn’t seen the doctor yet this morning.
Did they discharge people this early? It didn’t make sense to me.
"Is he on his way?" My fingers clutched the blankets, twisting them in my fists. "He said I had to have some tests and—"
The nurse's head snapped up, and the smile was gone completely, replaced by a frown that pinched her eyebrows together. "I’m only the messenger," she snapped. "If he wants you to have more tests done, then I guess he would call you to arrange them?"
My mouth fell open. What the hell was that?
I knew that nurses were overworked and underpaid, but I had never had one speak to me like this before.
Even the one who had cared for me when Ilya had forced me away after giving birth to Alec had been nice in comparison.
I continued to stare at her even when her eyes dropped again.
"Daisy, I mean, miss," she corrected herself quickly. "We really do need the room, so if you can get changed. I think someone left your clothes." She pointed to the overnight bag on the chair by the window.
Had Ilya sent them? The bag was a deep blue.
Expensive looking, so yeah, it was definitely Ilya.
I just hadn’t noticed it before because, well—I had kind of been in my own bubble of disbelief since I had woken up.
First, because someone had set fire to my father's house, and I wasn’t naive enough to believe they didn’t know I was inside.
Secondly, because Ilya had risked his life to save mine, and that meant he wasn’t the one to set the fire.
And lastly, because I was pregnant.
Again.
I pressed my hand to my stomach, unseen by the nurse.
I didn’t know why, because it was right there on the chart that she had just looked at, but I didn’t want her to realize I was pregnant. Which was silly; if she had read the chart, she would already know.
"Okay, I’ll be as quick as possible." Slowly, because I didn’t feel the greatest still, I swung my legs over the bed and headed towards the bag, rummaging inside. Ilya must have sent it over because these things were definitely mine.
"Is there paperwork to sign?" I asked, bundling some clothes into my arms. I hadn’t spent a lot of time in hospitals, but usually there was paperwork. Insurance and things to sort out.
I lifted my eyes to her expectantly.
"No, it’s all been taken care of."
Turning slowly, I stared at her. "Is Ilya—" I grimaced. "I mean, is Mr. Popovitch here?"
If someone had sorted out my discharge, it would be him.
That was the only thing that made sense. That Ilya had arranged all of this. For some reason, he wanted me home. Maybe there was another hospital or something he wanted me in.
Without meaning to, I pressed my hand to my flat stomach again. It wouldn’t be flat for long, but I had seen Ilya's face when he had told me we were expecting again, and there had been hope in his eyes.
Almost like this was his second chance.
"He’s not here." Her voice was flat and emotionless.
I did a double-take. What did she mean that he wasn’t here? If I was being discharged, then he would be here. It wasn’t like he would let me out of his sight now he knew I was expecting.
I knew that much about the man who kept filling me with babies.
Unless I was just being silly. Maybe Ilya didn’t see this as a second chance, but another chance for him to use me. Would he send me away or worse, and keep our second child for himself as well?
"Please get ready to leave now. We need the room." Without a backward glance, she walked stiffly from the room, leaving me to stare at her retreating back.
Something was wrong.
Ilya would be here, unless—I paused with only one leg in my jeans. Unless he didn’t actually care. And that was a very real possibility. Maybe he wanted me gone.
Maybe even after everything, including him risking his life by running into a burning building to save me, he wanted nothing to do with me and was still planning on marrying Marguerite? Baby or not.
I didn’t want to think about it. But my hands shook as I quickly dressed and tied my mess of blonde hair into a scrunchie without the use of a comb because no one had brought me one.
One final look at my reflection, and I gathered my wits about me. I didn’t even look like myself anymore. My cheeks were hollow, and my face too pale.
There were dark smudges under my glassy eyes.
When had this happened? When had all the life gone from my face?
I looked like someone who had given up. But I had never been that person. If Ilya wanted me out of his life, I would go, but I wouldn’t leave Alec behind. I would fight for him. Even if it was just visitation. Even if that meant I couldn’t go back to my old life.
Not that I could go back anyway. My passport had been back at my father's house. Along with my phone. They would both be ash by now.
I didn’t want to think about that. Or what I was going to do next as I shouldered the bag and headed out. There were no nurses to stop me, no doctors who shouted and asked where I was going, and no Ilya waiting impatiently.
By the time I stepped out into the street, I was beginning to panic. Each breath tightened my chest as I looked down the street and tried to work out which way to go.
I had nowhere to go. No home, no friends or family to take me in, and no money.
"Daisy?"
My head snapped around at the sound of a man’s voice. Dark suit, dark hair; the man was leaning against a sleek black car, smoking a cigarette, which he tossed away as I approached.
He looked familiar, like I had seen him before, but I couldn’t quite place him. Obviously, he was one of Ilya's men. Just one I hadn’t been in much contact with.
"Yes." My heart gave a little pang of relief. Of course Ilya had sent someone for me. Of course he had. There was no way he would just send me away when I was carrying his baby. Even if he didn’t want me, he would want the child.
Ilya was many things, but a deadbeat dad wasn’t one of them.
His eyes swept over me, from head to toe and then back upwards, and his lips twisted in a sneer. "Get in." Stepping forward, he swung the door open.
"Thanks." Gratefully, I gave him my bag and sat down. It wasn’t that the bag was heavy, just that I was so weak still, and I was relieved when it was gone.
The seats weren’t leather, and there was a man on the other side who wasn’t Ilya. In fact, I didn’t recognize him at all.
"Is Ilya—" The words had barely left my lips before the car door slammed, trapping me in the confines of the car with a man I didn’t know.
Any relief I had just felt disappeared. "Is Ilya waiting for us?" I asked hopefully, but my heart was suddenly thundering in my chest. I could feel it knocking against my ribs painfully.
The sound of a gun cocking back was answer enough. Swallowing hard, I turned to him completely.
He wasn’t dressed in a suit. His clothes smelt like old smoke and dirt. Like he hadn’t washed them in quite a while.
"Ilya isn’t here." He pressed the gun against the side of my stomach.
Had Ilya sent these men to me because he wanted me to disappear? Was the past repeating itself again? But if that was true, he wouldn’t do it this way. He would lock me up and wait for the baby to be born before putting me down like a useless broodmare.
There was no way Ilya would kill his unborn baby. He might hate me, but he didn’t hate his children.
"We are going for a drive, Daisy. And you don’t need to worry; if you do as you are told, nothing will happen to either of you."
Either of us? My eyebrows shot down, but I nodded mutely. I didn’t know who "either of us" meant, but I did know one thing. He was lying.
Even if there hadn’t been a muzzle of a gun pressed into my side, I would have known that.
I had everything to worry about.
"You want me to do what?" It was the only time I had spoken since I had gotten into the car and realized that this was all wrong, and my voice cracked with fear.
The man ran his fingers over the scruffy beard, drawing attention to it.
I was such a fool. No one who worked for Ilya would ever look so unkempt.
Even the man driving who was wearing a suit should have sent alarm bells ringing because the suit was so creased and didn’t fit properly.
Ilya's men were always pristinely put together.
Scruffy beard pushed the muzzle of the gun painfully into my side, and I winced back, trying to get away from it. His hands were shaking so much I was worried that it was about to go off.
Not that it would make a difference at this distance. If it went off, I was as good as dead. My baby would die instantly.
"You are to go in there and pick up the brat."
Brat? My eyes narrowed. Was he seriously calling Alec a brat? If I hadn’t known these weren’t Ilya's men before, I did now. His whole organization worshipped Alec. They were all unofficial, overprotective uncles to that little boy, and each one would lay down their lives for him.
"I’m not doing that." Setting my shoulders, I lifted my chin, defiantly staring into his eyes. "You can do what you want to me." I wrapped one arm over my stomach like that would protect my unborn baby. "But you leave Alec alone."
He laughed, the gun scraped against the skin of my stomach as he leant forward to invade my space and lifted my shirt with the muzzle. His foul breath blew across my face, making me feel like I was going to vomit.
"You have two choices, Daisy."
Damn, his breath smelt like rotting things. And the hand with the gun was shaking even more. Was he a drug addict that had missed his fix? It felt like it.
That made him even more dangerous.
"You can go in there and get the brat. We know you can do that. And then we can take a little drive, and we will call that famous Ilya to pay a ransom."
I met his eyes. "Ilya won’t pay shit for me."
More laughter. "Maybe not, but he will for the boy."
The boy? They didn’t know about the baby, and I had to keep it that way.
"If he doesn’t pay for you, then I’m sure we will be allowed to have some fun with you.
" The gun slid up my top, tracing my skin until it was pressed into the side of my breast painfully.
"Heard the only man you have ever been with is Ilya.
" He eyed me hungrily, and I snapped my lips together, trying to school my face into something unreadable.
"If I ask nicely, I am sure we can have some fun with you before—well, before you outlive your usefulness. "
If they were allowed? Something or someone else was in charge here. I schooled my face. "I won’t—" Turning my head, I glared at him. "You can do what you want to me. Rape me, torture me. I don’t care," I spat. "But I won’t take him from school and hand him over to you."
"Then his whole class will die." Jerking his chin to an upstairs window, he grinned with a shrug.
"There’s a sniper across the road. How many of the little shits do you think he will hit before they realize what is going on?
" His calm, steady voice was terrifying.
"But make no mistake, Alexander Popovitch will be the first to fall. "
He was talking about mass murder. Of shooting up a school full of children like it was nothing at all.
The fight left my body; my shoulders slumped.
He chuckled again because he knew he had me.
"I thought that might change your mind. And do not try to alert anyone, Daisy.
Things will go badly for you if you do." Again his chin jerked to the driver, who was swinging his burly body out of the car. "You’ll have a guard. We wouldn’t want you getting brave now, would we? "
I met his eyes one last time before getting out. I wasn’t going to get brave because I was already brave, and one way or another, I would get Alec out of this situation.
It didn’t matter what happened to me. Only that he got back to his papa.