Chapter 21
LILIANA
Ihave no business being this calm after Anton cornered me in the alley and fingered me. I definitely have no right to dismiss what he said, about how he always gets what he wants. It’s a fact of life. He has the power, money, and means to get anything he wishes for.
Except me.
That’s also a fact of life, one that he is not going to change through any magic of sheer willpower alone.
His claim should have me freaking out, worrying he’ll escalate from having me watched to something worse.
But I don’t have the time or energy to dwell on it.
If he were that serious about forcing his way back into my life, he wouldn’t play nice.
He’d just do what he wants and have me hauled off somewhere.
He hasn’t, so I have no reason to panic.
Even if I wanted to, I simply don’t have the downtime or energy.
“I can’t believe that of all the bakeries in the city, we got this order.” Jenni is all smiles as she says it, busy stacking more boxes onto the counter.
I grin, nodding as I continue counting and double-checking the parts of the massive order that I’ve been waiting to complete.
And that is the reason why I can’t dwell on what Anton said or what he did to me in the alley.
This massive order came in so unexpectedly that at first, I worried if Jenni and I could pull it off.
It’s an overnight boon for us, one that we’d be fools to turn down.
With Margarita and Rob helping, we barely pull it off. Keeping up with our regular orders while turning out enough for this one feels like a marathon, but it’s worth it.
“Maybe someone saw the ads for the delivery service that’s coming up,” Rob says, hustling more dough over to Margarita. The sweet smell of yeasty bread isn’t bothering me too much, but skipping lunch is going to cost me later, given the morning sickness. The all-day sickness.
Ugh.
Don’t think about it.
“I’m not sure the ads could’ve gotten the bakery this much notice,” I admit.
“I only started running those ads yesterday.” I am glad for this mega order though.
It will more than pay for the cost of the preliminary ads I recently made up as a test to announce the upcoming delivery service.
“However this company found out about us is a godsend.” That’s all that matters.
“Oh, I agree,” Jenni says, unable to wipe the smile off her face as she works. “No matter how overwhelming this is right now, it’s good. It’s a step in the right direction.”
I want to believe her, but I’m too practical to get my hopes up. We won’t land orders like this often. Still, even a one-time windfall helps. Whatever it takes to get the bakery closer to surviving.
I twist to set another box on the counter, ready for Margarita to load up when the oven’s done. Moving too fast, I pull a muscle in my upper back. I wince, breathing through the twinge. It hits so suddenly I can’t mask it.
“Liliana!” Jenni notices, of course. “Take it easy.”
I sigh at her mothering. She’s still the only one who knows about the pregnancy, and she’s kept her word. She hasn’t told anyone. But scolding me now is just one more sign of how closely she’s watching my status and the changes I’m going through.
“I’m fine,” I tell her.
I am. That little flare of pain isn’t from the pregnancy.
It’s from sleeping on her couch, which isn’t comfortable at all, but I’d never open my mouth to complain.
I’m far too grateful for her. For her friendship, her willingness to work hard, her openness to let me stay. Her secrecy is a blessing too.
I have to wonder when the guilt will catch up to me for taking advantage though.
Because as I stand here and shift my weight on my feet, so tired from the long day already, I imagine how much worse I’d feel when I actually start to show. And when the baby comes.
I can’t be in this predicament then. I refuse to burden her with the expectation to offer me her apartment with a newborn. And the bakery can’t afford to be short-staffed again. I need to be here, to work, especially with my parents unable to be here.
Something will need to give, though.
I need to project further ahead and be prepared to welcome this baby on my own. Even with Jenni’s help, I’ll be forced into the situation of being a single mother.
Because the alternative is just not happening.
Any time I try to rehearse how I’d tell Anton I’m pregnant with his child, I’m dragged right back to the memory of him complaining about Roman. About how he can’t trust him with the leadership of the Bratva. How he wants an heir he can rely on, a child who wouldn’t disappoint him.
That’s how Anton would see our baby. Not as a precious life, but as a thing, an employee, someone to expect servitude from. It’s sort of what I’m doing here, busting my butt for my parents’ bakery, but they never forced this on me. They never ordered me to do it to appease them.
If I had wanted to go into something else in college, they would’ve supported me going after my dreams. That’s how I want to raise my child, too, with unconditional love. Something that Anton hasn’t ever shown Roman.
Then again, I can’t blame him.
Roman shouldn’t necessarily have to earn his father’s love.
No child should. But that doesn’t absolve him of how he’s taken advantage of his father either.
By never respecting him, never trying to do anything for himself while he waits for an easy way through life, Roman hasn’t deserved anything from Anton.
I shake my head, catching myself from spiraling down with these thoughts again.
I can’t focus on Anton. Or how he still makes me miss his touch.
Or how often I drift into naughty what-ifs, daydreaming about how good my life could be if I weren’t so nervous about starting a family with him.
It’s foolish to get this far ahead of myself.
I can’t picture him letting me have any control when he’s so set on owning all of it.
I can’t tease myself with fantasies where he welcomes my opinions on raising this child when he’s so firmly the boss.
Margarita and Rob move toward the other side of the kitchen, laughing and in too deep with the music playing to hear what Jenni and I could say. She sidles up to me then, as if waiting for a chance to speak with me.
“Are you okay?” she whispers.
I nod and smile at her, then start back over with recounting the desserts in this box I’m on.
“Like really?” she asks again.
“Yes. What’s worrying you?” I glance at her, not losing my place in counting.
She shrugs. “I don’t know. It’s just… I’m thinking ahead. If business stays like this, you can’t be working harder or more. Soon, you’ll need to anticipate a maternity leave, and…” She furrows her brow. “It’s got me thinking about if you’ve reconsidered telling Anton about the baby.”
Since she’s talking so quietly, I’m not anxious about the other two overhearing. But her saying those words out loud puts it out there. It’s a secret, but it can’t stay one indefinitely.
“I’ve already reconsidered. I almost told him yesterday, when he followed me home.”
Her brows pop up high. “Seriously? You saw him?”
I nod.
“And you didn’t say anything?”
I wince. “Not yet. But…I will. I have to.”
“What are you waiting for?” She laughs lightly, crossing her arms. “When I went to that first checkup with you, I kept thinking that it wasn’t my place. That he should have been there with you.”
“I’m waiting for the right words to come to me.” I set my clipboard down and sigh, facing her fully. “I don’t want him to take this over. To make all the decisions. Yes, he can know about the baby, but he’s not taking him or her from me.”
Her eyes go wide. “You think he would really do that?”
I shrug. “Just the possibility of it bothers me. And that’s what I’m stalling on. I need to figure out how to tell him this news on my terms, and make sure that he understands he’s not going to be the boss in this regard.”
“Well, you can’t wait too long,” she says.
“No, I can’t.”
“As much as I’m here for you and want to help, it’s not sustainable to do this alone.” Her cringe as she says it proves that she wishes it doesn’t have to be this hard. “Not when we’re doing all we can to save the bakery, you know?”
I nod, lowering my gaze.
“Because I can’t stop wondering about how it’d be if, you know, he relaxed on the loan for this place.”
I jerk my head up and frown at her. “I don’t even want to go there.” It’s bad enough that I’m dealing with the taboo circumstances of being knocked up by my ex’s father, a man twice my age. It’s also that he’s a Bratva boss I owe money to.
“I’ll figure it out,” I repeat, knowing I sound like a broken record saying that.
“Hey, Liliana?” Rob approaches.
I turn toward him, wondering why he looks so confused.
“There’s some dude out front asking for you,” he says.
I narrow my eyes.
He holds his hands up. “No. It’s not Roman.” He furrows his brow, as if he’s rethinking what he said. “But he kinda looks like him.”
Oh, shit.
Anton and Roman don’t look that alike, but the familial resemblance is there.
There’s no avoiding him when he’s actually here, in the bakery. I step around the counter and shoot Jenni a glance to keep her mouth shut.
After passing another stainless-steel counter, I head toward the front.
He’s there, all right.
Tall. Handsome. Patient, almost. And sexy as hell in that suit as he watches me come to him.
“It’s a little busy here,” I say as a greeting. But a deep and stubborn curiosity simmers inside of me. A little thrill of knowing this powerful man has come here seeking me out.
“Looks like it.” He doesn’t budge, watching me hungrily as he keeps his hands in his pockets. “But it’s time for you to get busy preparing for tonight.”
I arch one brow and cross my arms.
“You need to get ready for the Grayson Ball,” he states, like it should be perfectly obvious. “As my date.”
A gasp comes behind me, and I want to roll my eyes at Jenni’s theatrics.
“Anton…” I warn slowly, shaking my head.
“She’s just about to leave now,” Jenni says, butting in.
“I am not,” I tell her without looking away from him.
“You are,” she insists. As she gives me a stern look, goading me into it, I want to groan at her pushing me like this.
I should tell him no.
Yet, as I watch him and notice the start of a mischievous smile tugging at his lips, I want to join him in this naughty, bad idea.
Me, going to a ball that his son expected to take me to?
Roman would react poorly. It’s almost too much to pass up on, the inevitable expression of pure shock on his face if he were to see me arrive with his father.
It’s easy to get carried away with the delight of wondering how everyone would react if they were to see me with Anton Sokolov. Any other woman would kill to be in my position. To be his date.
Instead of arguing with me or trying to bargain with me, he extends his hand and stares me down.
“You are coming as my date,” he states, matter-of-fact.
Following the same pull of awareness and stubborn attraction that lured me into his arms months ago, I sigh and set my hand in his.
It’s not my wisest choice, but perhaps I can justify being in his presence a little longer just to tell him that I’m having his baby.
Without his control hovering over me.
He smiles slowly, wrapping his fingers around mine and pulling me toward him.