Chapter Fifty-Six
Ilona
The driver doesn’t speak on the way to the airport, which suits me perfectly.
I need the silence to process what I’ve just done.
I actually did it.
I got out.
The city lights blur past the window, each one taking me further from the man who’s torn my world apart. Further from the twisted love that’s been slowly destroying me from the inside out. The evening air seeps through the taxi’s windows, carrying the scent of freedom and fear in equal measure.
“Terminal 2, yes?” the driver confirms again in heavily accented English.
“Yes.” My voice sounds foreign to my own ears— hollow, determined.
Just a few more hours and I’ll be gone.
Vanished.
Free.
But even as I think it, I know Osip will come for me. Men like him don’t let go of what they consider theirs. And God help me, despite everything, part of me still belongs to him.
The part that’s been slowly killing me.
The taxi slows as we approach the airport, and my stomach drops. “I’m sorry, miss,” the driver says, pulling to the curb. “I can only park here, a bit further away from the terminal. There are roadworks and I can’t go closer.”
“It’s okay.” I force steadiness into my voice. “I have some time before check-in opens.”
The driver helps me wrestle my suitcase from the trunk— the same suitcase I’d packed in desperate silence.
I shove some notes into the driver’s hand and then the taxi disappears into traffic, leaving me alone on the sidewalk. The wind cuts through my cardigan, and I pull it tighter against my chest. The terminal building looms ahead, its lights promising escape, sanctuary, a new beginning.
I start walking toward those lights. Each step takes me closer to freedom, but the weight in my chest only grows heavier.
Ring. Ring. Ring.
My phone. Shit, where is it? I stop abruptly, nearly losing my grip on the suitcase handle. My purse— of course. The phone keeps ringing, insistent and shrill in the evening air.
I fumble through the contents of my bag, my fingers clumsy with cold and adrenaline. Lipstick, wallet, keys to a life I’m leaving behind— finally, my phone.
Dr. Tamás Varga’s name flashes on the screen.
My doctor. At this late hour?
Shit.
What now?
“Hello?” I answer, pulling my suitcase closer and balancing it against my legs.
“Ilona, I have some news. I’ve reviewed your latest tests,” he says briskly. There’s something in his tone— excitement? Concern? “We now know why your symptoms didn’t go away.”
The world tilts sideways. “Oh. And why?”
“Because you are still pregnant.”
For the second time today, the phone nearly slips from my numb fingers. The words don’t compute, don’t make sense.
I’m… what?
Pregnant?
But the blood, the cramping, the devastating loss I’d mourned—
“I… uh… How is that possible?”
“You carried non-identical twins,” Dr. Varga explains, his voice gentle but clinical.
“Two separate fetuses. You only lost one of them, and now the other has more space and is developing well, even thriving. This is extremely rare, especially with endometriosis. Initially, we mistook it for one of the endometrial tumors we’d been monitoring.
But, Ilona, it’s not a tumor— it’s a living baby!
This little one seems determined to make it. ”
Twins.
The word reverberates through my skull. I had been carrying twins, and one of them… one of them is still alive. Still growing. Still fighting.
Osip’s baby.
My knees threaten to buckle. The cold wind whips around me, but I can’t feel it anymore. Can’t feel anything except the crushing weight of this revelation.
“So… the cramps and the spotting?” I manage to ask.
“They’re consistent with the earlier loss and your endometriosis,” he reassures me.
“But as I said, the remaining baby looks strong.” He pauses.
“I’m truly sorry we didn’t catch it earlier, Ilona.
The second fetus must have been smaller and hidden during the initial scan after your miscarriage.
It’s rare, but it happens in about one in a hundred twin pregnancies.
We just picked it up during your recent examination. ”
I can’t believe it. I stand frozen on the sidewalk like a statue, the suitcase handle cutting into my palm. My mind feels like it’s shattered into a thousand pieces, each one screaming a different truth:
I’m going to be a mother.
I’m having my father’s murderer’s baby.
There’s a piece of Osip growing inside me, and I can never escape it.
I can never escape him.
I’m having a baby.
I’m going to be a mom!
The flight I’m supposed to catch, the new life I’m running toward— it all seems meaningless now. How can I start over when I’m carrying the ultimate reminder of everything I’m trying to leave behind?
“Ilona, are you there?” Dr. Varga’s voice cuts through the chaos in my head.
What am I supposed to tell him?
Sure, I’m here, Dr. Varga, I just need to process this because the baby’s father killed my father and I’m escaping him right now, I’m at the airport and—
Something, or some one , snaps me out of my thoughts, and it’s not Dr. Varga.
Cold metal presses against my spine. I jerk in shock, not immediately comprehending what’s going on.
“What the—?” I blurt. A hand clamps over my mouth before I can call out, fingers digging into my cheeks.
Oh God!
The metallic taste of fear floods my mouth as I recognize the shape pressed against my back— the unmistakable barrel of a gun.
This isn’t happening.
This can’t be happening!
My phone slips from my fingers, clattering to the pavement. Dr. Varga’s voice becomes a distant buzz as terror floods my system.
I try to scream, but the hand over my mouth muffles everything. The area around me is deserted— just empty concrete and shadows. I’d been so focused on the call, so lost in the devastating news, that I hadn’t noticed the car pulling up beside me.
Stupid!
So fucking stupid!
“Get in,” a muffled male voice growls in my ear. “If you want to live, get the fuck inside.”
The piece of metal digs deeper into my back, and I whimper against the hand covering my mouth. My mind races— is this Osip? Has he found me already? But the voice is wrong, unfamiliar.
No.
This isn’t him.
A rough cloth bag is yanked over my head, plunging me into suffocating darkness. Strong hands grab my arms, and I’m thrown forward like a rag doll. My knee hits the car frame hard, sending pain shooting up my leg. The door slams shut behind me, then locks, trapping me inside.
Kidnapped.
You’re being kidnapped, Ilona.
The engine roars to life, and we’re speeding through the night. I’m pressed between two bodies— both larger than me, both silent except for their harsh breathing. The car reeks of cigarettes and something else. Something metallic.
Blood.
My stomach lurches, and not from the pregnancy. These aren’t Osip’s men. I know his security detail, know their scents, their movements. These men are strangers.
Which means they don’t know I’m pregnant.
Which means they don’t care if they hurt the baby.
Panic claws at my throat as the reality crashes over me.
I’m completely alone. Cut off from everything and everyone.
The phone call to Dr. Varga was cut short— he probably thinks we just lost connection.
No one knows where I am. Melor never saw me leave; he probably thinks I’m safe in bed.
By the time anyone realizes I’m gone, I could be anywhere.
I could be dead.
“Please,” I whisper through the bag, my voice muffled and desperate. “Please, I—”
A sharp blow to my ribs cuts off my words. Pain explodes through my torso, and I double over, gasping.
“Shut the fuck up,” one of them hisses. “You speak when we tell you to speak.”
Tears sting my eyes as I curl into myself, one hand pressed against my ribs, the other instinctively protecting my stomach.
The baby.
Oh God, what if that hit—?
What if it hurt—?
I can’t lose another one.
I can’t.
The car takes a sharp turn, throwing me sideways. My head hits something hard, stars bursting behind my eyelids. Everything spins, and I taste blood on my tongue.
I think of Dr. Varga’s words.
This little one seems determined to make it.
“Hold on,” I plead silently to the life growing inside me. “Please, just hold on.”
But as the car speeds into the unknown, carrying me further from any hope of rescue, one terrifying truth takes root in my mind.
I’m completely and utterly alone.
Nobody’s coming to save me and my baby.
And we might never see tomorrow.
End of Part 1.
CLICK HERE to continue to Part 2.
I ran from the Bratva boss whose baby I lost.
Or so I thought.
Now I'm caring for his son... and he has no idea.
I discovered something about Osip that changed everything.
Something dark enough to make me run and leave everything behind.
Even him.
So, I disappear into a new life.
New city.
New identity.
New job as a nanny for a sweet little boy.
Until fate plays the cruelest joke of all.
The child I’m hired to care for?
Those familiar dark eyes.
That stubborn chin.
Osip Sidorov’s son.
The child he's been fighting to get back.
The child I’m falling in love with.
The child who calls me "mama" when his adoptive parents never return.
When Osip walks through that door, the game changes completely.
Because now he’s not just fighting for custody...
He’s fighting for the family he never knew he had.
And me?
I’m about to drop the biggest secret of all.
ONE CLICK - Continue to Part 2.