23. Rose
Rose
Ilya hardly speaks to me after he pulls the car to a halt, offering me a hand to help me up the steps. He brushes past the guards, who open the doors for him, and takes me straight to my quarters at the far end of the house.
As soon as the door is shut behind us, he grasps my face in his hands, gazing into my eyes with an intensity I’ve never seen from him before. His gaze blazes with something furious, and I press my hand against his chest, trying to soothe him.
"Stay here," he tells me, his voice low. He leaves no room for argument or debate, and I know better than to fight him on this.
And honestly, I don’t think I want to. Not anymore.
I mean, haven’t I proved to him by now that I have no intention of going anywhere?
I don’t know what it’s going to take to show him that I’m not going to flee the first chance I get.
I came to him when Sergei rubbed me the wrong way; I came to him when Becky texted me about Lisa turning up at the store like that.
I almost want to remind him of it, but I doubt that’s what he needs to hear right now, with his mind so distracted.
"I’m not going anywhere, Ilya," is all I say to him.
For a second, it seems to get through to him.
He presses his forehead against mine and draws in a deep breath, like he’s trying to sate himself on my scent, my presence.
There are times, just brief moments like this, when I could swear he really cares for me as more than just the mother of his child.
He kisses me once, hard on the mouth, and then turns to leave, pulling the door shut behind him.
I hear him conversing briefly with the guards and then footsteps as they follow him down the corridor.
At the back of my mind, something twinges.
I am alone right now. I could just make a break for it, regardless of what I just told him.
And God, despite everything, there is a part of me that wants to.
A part of me that wants to flee and taste my freedom again in any way I can.
But...
But there is something about Ilya that keeps me steady.
Something about him I don’t want to lose, even if it costs me everything.
Because he cares for me, in a way no one else has ever cared for me before, with a depth and certainty that Petar never showed me.
His devotion to me, his downright obsession, might die off when this child is born and he no longer has to worry about me in the same way.
But when he fucks me, it’s hard to believe that he would be able to just leave all of that behind like it was nothing, and I refuse to believe for an instant that he doesn’t feel something for me, too.
I glance around the room, trying to find something to distract myself, and notice that the closet door is slightly open. Approaching it, I realize that there are new clothes inside, and as I pull them out, it hits me that they are maternity wear.
I guess Ilya must have gotten one of the household staff to go out and get these for me, to make sure that I always had something to wear throughout my pregnancy.
I am hardly showing now, but it’s only a matter of time before this bump starts to make itself known.
In truth, I’m kind of looking forward to finding out what I will look like pregnant; I mean, I know it’s never exactly the most flattering time of a woman’s life, but the thought of my body changing to support a whole new life is exciting in ways I can’t quite put into words.
Because I’m going to be a mom. A whole-ass freaking mother.
It’s not something I have really had much time to think about, given the craziness going on around me since I found out, but I can’t help but smile at the thought.
I had always imagined that I would be a little older and more established in my life by the time I had kids, but honestly, the circumstances have just come together in the right way, and I know I will not have to worry about providing for my little one.
Ilya will make sure they have anything and everything they need.
I mean, there’s plenty for me to worry about with the rest of their life, given that they will be born into a Bratva family with more criminal connections than I even know about. But I will cross that bridge when I come to it.
I pull out one of the dresses and hold it up to myself in the full-length mirror on the closet door.
Okay, yeah, I can see how this would look cute, with a little bump there to fill it out.
Maybe I could talk to Becky about adding some maternity wear to the boutique.
Now that Ilya owns the place, maybe I could twist his arm the right way…
Becky!
I promised I would call her when I got back, so I toss the dress on the bed and scramble for my phone in my pocket. And sure enough, when I pull it out, I find a message waiting for me from Becky. I click it open, but my brow furrows when I read it.
Rose. I need to talk to you. It’s about Ilya. Please, I owe you this.
I stare at it for a moment, my heart beating hard in my chest. What the fuck is this about?
What on earth does she know about Ilya? She is not part of this world, is she?
It’s hard to believe that she could know anything about him that I don’t, but her tone seems urgent.
I hover my fingers over the keys, trying to parse out how to respond.
No. This isn’t the kind of thing I can do over text. I want to hear her voice. I dial her number and lift the phone to my ear, pacing as my heart throbs in my chest. Jesus, when does anything turn simple around here?
She rejects the call.
I pull the phone back, wondering if I made some kind of mistake, but another message pops up in my inbox a second later.
Come by the old apartment. I need to talk to you in person. This isn’t the kind of thing we can do over the phone.
I part my lips in shock. The old apartment? The one I’m banned from? It must be serious if she’s willing to risk the landlord’s ire, or maybe she’s confident that he’ll never find out about it. I chew my lip as I stare at the message, going over my options here.
Because there are no guards on the door, I could get out. Tell her to call me a cab, then I’ll meet it outside the mansion, meet up with her, and get back before Ilya even notices I’m gone. Sure, it’s a fiction I’m spinning to myself, the idea that he will not find out, but...
But if I tell Ilya, I know he will try to stop me. Keep me here, where he knows I’m safe. Deny me whatever knowledge Becky might have managed to get her hands on. She sounds desperate, that’s for sure, but what could be so urgent that she needs to see me right now?
My mind reels with possible answers. Because I’m lying to myself if I don’t believe Ilya isn’t involved in some seriously dark shit.
I might have been able to ignore it for a while, pretend that he’s nothing more than the man I see before me when we are together, but there’s something else to him, too.
A side to him that’s dangerous, violent, controlling.
A side that closed off my world entirely, leaving me no choice but to give myself over to him.
And the thought of that, even now, is enough to send a sickening shiver down my spine.
I could call him right now. Get this out into the open before it turns into something I can’t extricate myself from. My head feels overstuffed, the answers not making themselves clear to me, even as I silently plead for them to.
I could go to Becky now, get out of here, get this done, and return before anyone knows I am gone.
Why the fuck am I overthinking this so much? Isn’t this what I wanted—my freedom? A chance to do things my way, no matter how difficult or messy they turned out to be?
I draw in a deep breath, looking to the ceiling to ground myself. An hour. An hour at most. That’s as long as I’ll be out of this place, and then I’ll come back and be sitting pretty by the time Ilya comes to check on me.
But I have to move now if I want to get out of here. Because I don’t know how long it will be before those men return, and I can’t risk getting stuck here.
I rush for the door, firing off a text to Becky to call me a cab and that I will be there as soon as I can. I can feel the thrum of blood in my veins, part of me screaming at me to stop this, turn around, give up before I make a mistake that I will not be able to remedy.
But my feet carry me towards the kitchen, where I know there’s a back door that will lead to the outside world.
I dive out before I can doubt this decision for another instant.
Fresh air fills my lungs, and I try my best to pull myself back down to earth, my entire body seized with the terror of being caught and what might happen if I am.
But I am more afraid of dealing with Ilya if there is something about him that I need to know. I have no clue how Becky was the one to find it out, but she’s been my friend for years, and I know she wouldn’t do anything to hurt me.
That’s what I have to believe, anyway.
Shooting another look around, I ensure the coast is clear before I sprint down the garden towards the gate that leads to the road beyond.
Ilya must have his men gathered somewhere, because I can’t see any guards keeping watch.
Whatever is going on, Ilya is obviously taking it with the utmost seriousness, and maybe I should start acting the same way myself.
Well, I am taking it seriously that my best friend came to me with a concern that sounds like it’s life-or-death.
As I dart through the gate and scan the road beyond, I promise myself that I’ll be back soon.
In just an hour, I will know everything Becky does, and I will be able to make whatever decision I need to with a little more clarity.
At least, that’s what I keep telling myself as I see the cab pulling around the corner and lift a hand to flag it down.