9. Aria #2
He won’t let me lift anything heavy or let me go outside without guards. He won’t let me out of his goddamn sight for more than an hour.
“I’m pregnant, not dying,” I snap one morning when he tries to help me down the stairs.
“You’re carrying my child.” His hand is firm on my elbow. “I’m not taking any chances.”
I feel like I’m disappearing and becoming a womb to carry his heirs. I’m not a person with thoughts and feelings and fears of my own.
I’m just an incubator.
And through it all, Alexander keeps visiting.
It’s a beautiful and balmy afternoon when Alexander corners me.
Maksim has been busy all week with organization business, but he’s somehow had the time to order our son the most elaborate playground equipment I’ve ever seen.
It arrived yesterday. It’s a massive colorful structure with multiple levels, tunnels, a rock climbing wall, swings, and a slide that spirals down from fifteen feet up.
There’s a sandbox at the base with toy trucks already waiting.
A tire swing. Monkey bars. Everything a seven-year-old could dream of.
The expense makes me sick.
But Daniel is in heaven. He’s been out here for hours, running from one element to another, his laughter carrying across the lawn.
I’m sitting on a bench nearby, watching him play, one hand resting unconsciously on my stomach.
I had read that women show earlier with subsequent pregnancies and the books weren’t wrong.
I’m showing just slightly, a small curve that I can still hide under billowy shirts.
But I know it’s there. I pull my hair off my neck and quickly braid it, trying to cool myself down.
“Beautiful day.”
I jump at the voice. Alexander has appeared beside the bench, silent as a ghost. He’s wearing a charcoal suit despite the heat, perfectly groomed as always.
“Mr. Morozov.” I stand quickly, putting distance between us. “I didn’t hear you arrive.”
“I have that effect on people.” His smile doesn’t reach his cold blue eyes. “Your son seems to be enjoying his new playground.” He inclines his head toward my son.
“He is.” I glance at Daniel, who’s climbing the rock wall with fierce determination. He’s too far away to hear us. “If you’re looking for Maksim, he’s in his office.” God, I need this man to get the fuck away from me.
“Actually, I wanted to speak with you.” He moves closer, and every instinct screams at me to run. “I’ve noticed you’ve been unwell lately. Is everything alright?”
My blood goes cold. “I’m fine. It’s just a stomach bug.”
“A stomach bug that’s lasted weeks?” His head tilts slightly, like he’s studying a puzzle. “You should see a doctor and make sure it’s nothing serious.”
“I have,” I say quickly. “I’m fine. But I appreciate your concern.”
His eyes drop to my stomach for just a moment and I feel caught. He knows. Or he suspects. And if Alexander figures out I’m pregnant, it gives him another way to hurt me.
“I should go,” I say abruptly. “It’s very warm outside and Daniel needs to cool down.”
“Of course.” He steps aside, that cold smile still in place. “Do take care of yourself, Miss Delano. Pregnancy can be so…delicate.”
The word freezes me in place. Pregnancy. He said it. He knows.
I shake my head, not wanting to confirm it. “I’m not pregnant.”
“I have three children of my own,” he continues. “I recognize the signs. The pallor. The exhaustion.” His eyes meet mine, and my stomach seizes at the depthless void in them. “Congratulations. I’m sure Maksim is thrilled.”
I can’t do anything except stand there while he smiles that terrible smile.
“Excuse me,” I finally manage. “I really need to get Daniel inside.”
I flee—there’s no other word for it. I grab Daniel’s hand and practically drag him toward the house, even though Daniel protests. My heart pounds so hard I’m sure Alexander can hear it.
He knows. He knows I’m pregnant. And now I’m not just worried about myself. I’m worried about the life growing inside me.
Maksim confronts me that evening after Daniel is in bed.
“Alexander mentioned you were rude to him this afternoon.” His voice is cold as he closes the bedroom door behind him and leans against the wall, arms folded across his broad chest. “Care to explain?”
I grit my teeth. Of course that fucking bastard said that to Maksim.
“I wasn’t rude.” I’m sitting on the edge of the bed, exhaustion weighing me down. “I just didn’t want to talk to him.”
“You practically ran away from him.” Maksim raises a brow. “What’s going on, Aria?”
“Nothing’s going on.” But my voice wavers.
“Bullshit.” He takes several steps toward me and I stiffen. “You’ve been acting strangely around Alexander and now you’re pregnant and even more paranoid. What is it about him specifically that terrifies you?”
“He makes me uncomfortable.” I stand, needing to move, needing to not feel so cornered. “I don’t want him around while I’m pregnant or around Daniel.”
“This shit again?” Maksim’s angry. “We’ve been through this. Alexander is Nikolai’s most trusted man. You can’t just—”
“He knows I’m pregnant,” I say loudly, cutting Maksim off. “He figured it out today. He said pregnancy can be so delicate, like he was—like he was threatening—”
“Threatening?” Maksim stares at me in disbelief before throwing his hands up in irritation. “Oh for fuck’s sakes, Aria. He was congratulating you. That’s what people do when someone is pregnant. They offer congratulations.”
“It wasn’t congratulations,” I snap, irritated he’s treating me like I’m an idiot. “It was—” I stop, because how do I explain the look in his eyes and the feeling of being hunted?
“It was what?” Maksim’s patience is clearly wearing thin by the way his jaw ticks. “You’re once again being paranoid.”
“I’m not paranoid!” I shout, sick of Maksim making these cutting remarks. “There’s something wrong with him! He’s dangerous! Why won’t you believe me?”
“Because you won’t give me a reason to!” he shouts back. “You say he makes you uncomfortable, but you won’t say why. Of course he’s dangerous, Aria. He’s part of the fucking Bratva. You want me to exclude one of my brother’s closest advisors based on nothing but your feelings!”
“My feelings should be enough!” To my horror, I start crying. “I’m pregnant with your child! I’m the mother of your son! My feelings should matter!”
“They do matter.” His voice drops. “But so do facts and evidence. And so does trust.” He gives me a cold smile. “Which you don’t trust me with any of it.”
“Because I can’t!” I nearly scream, my nails digging into my skin.
“Why not?” he snarls. “What are you so afraid of, Aria? What do you think will happen if you tell me the truth?”
Because I don’t know if he was involved in whatever Alexander is planning.
“I can’t,” I whisper.
Maksim’s face closes off. “Then we have nothing more to discuss.” He turns away from me. “Alexander will continue to visit this house. He will continue to be part of our lives. And you will be civil to him. Understand?”
I refuse to answer.
Maksim leaves the room, and I’m alone with my fear and my secrets and the life growing inside me.
I realize with crushing certainty that Maksim will never believe me without proof.
And I have no proof. Just memories of overheard conversations and a body on the floor. And I’m the only one who knows.
I sink onto the bed and press my hands to my stomach, feeling the slight curve there. Another life. Another person depending on me to keep them safe.
And I have no idea how.
I’m trapped in this house with a man who won’t believe me and a traitor who’s figured out my weakness.
And there’s nothing—absolutely nothing—I can do about it.