Chapter 38
Zoya
Recently, my back has been hurting a lot, and so has my foot. This pregnancy is already starting out hard, and it’s not even been five months yet. One more symptom to add to the list. I should have stuck with the list, but noooo, I wanted dick so badly.
Alexei,” I moan into the pillow.
“Yeah?”
“My feet are killing me.”
Instantly, he’s awake and upright, stripping the blanket away to get at my feet.
“I’ll check,” he says, already shifting to the end of the bed.
I flip onto my back while his hands begin to massage my feet.
The sensation is so perfect I might start crying from relief alone. “That okay?” he asks quietly.
“Yes.”
His hands travel higher, moving to my ankles, then up to my calves. “Is your back bothering you?”
“Yeah. My lower back, especially.”
“Let me get it.” He moves me gently, shifting me onto my stomach, or as much as he can with the bump in the way. His palms settle on my lower back, pressing firmly while his thumbs dig into the knots. I groan into the pillow.
“Tell me if it’s too much.” He eases up slightly, waiting for my answer.
I turn my head so I can speak properly. “It’s perfect. Keep going.”
Silence falls except for my sighs, his hands finding every pain point, knowing precisely where I ache. He completes his work and guides me into a sitting position. “Should I run you a bath?” He makes a move to get off the bed.
“Yes, please,” I almost sigh in pleasure.
Alexei rises from the mattress and goes into the bathroom, turning the faucet on. He reappears moments later, angling his head. “The bath is ready. I checked the temperature, so you know it’s just right.”
I push myself up carefully with a grateful smile and make my way to the bathroom at a snail’s pace. The tub is full of steam rising from the surface and the scent of lavender oil hanging in the air. Alexei starts undressing, his shirt coming off as he heads toward the tub.
“No. Absolutely not.” I point at him. “Don’t you dare get in here with me.”
“I was going to use the shower,” he protests.
“Don’t lie to me. You were definitely about to climb in.” I sigh. “This overprotective thing is driving me crazy.”
“The doctor said you need to rest…”
“I get it. But I’m begging you to give me some breathing room. Please.”
“If that’s what you want.” He sounds hurt, but he’s moving toward the shower stall.
“I appreciate it.” Relief floods through me. I sink into the tub and close my eyes.
The shower starts up, and I listen to him washing, the sounds familiar and comforting. At least he’s giving me this much, even if he’s still close enough to reach me in two steps. I finish soaking and begin the process of getting myself out.
“Wait a second,” Alexei says, turning off the showerhead and coming towards me. He takes my waist in both hands and guides me out. Keeping me balanced on the wet tile.
“I’m capable of standing up by myself.”
“I know.” He wraps a towel around me. “But let me help anyway.”
Even though I don’t exactly like this, I let it go. He’s been like this for over two weeks now, and it’s only gotten worse. At this point, he might think I’m like Cinderella's slippers that break easily. I appreciate the gesture. But it’s smothering me.
We leave the bathroom, and Alexei heads straight for his clothes.
I walk into my side, which is big enough to be its own room.
Everything from my past is in here - my father made sure to move it all in after the wedding.
I’ve got bags from high school and old jewelry sitting right next to the expensive things Alexei buys for me.
It’s like two different people live in this closet at the same time.
“You didn’t use the belly oil, did you?”
I pause. “Not yet.”
“Okay, but don’t forget.”
I glance over my shoulder to see his expression, and what the hell!
He’s serious about this. Ever since he found out I’m pregnant, he’s been on Google non-stop.
Two weeks ago, he came home with this fancy belly oil.
It’s some expensive French brand I’m pretty sure exists just to rip rich people off.
He told me it helps my skin stay stretchy, so I don’t get marks.
He even thinks it’s supposed to calm the baby down.
Like the oil is just going to soak through my skin and everything else until the baby feels it. I can just imagine the baby in there thinking, ‘Oh, good, finally some relaxation time!’
But Alexei means well. So I let it go.
“I’ll apply it now.”
I head to the dresser and grab the bottle, pumping a few drops into my palm, and watching the oil shimmer.
It’s hard to believe this tiny bit of liquid is supposed to do so much.
Once I'm done with the oil, I go back into my closet and grab a black mesh dress.
I pull it on and look in the full-length mirror.
In this position, the bump is clearly visible.
I rest my hand over the swell, holding it there for a long moment.
In the reflection, I see Alexei staring at me. He stopped getting dressed halfway through - one of his buttons is still undone. He walks over and pulls me against his chest, wrapping his hands around my waist. "How did I get so lucky?" he whispers into my hair. "I don’t deserve you."
He stays quiet for a beat, then asks, "Is it too late to take back my word about you going back to school?"
I pull away and spin around to face him. "It’s definitely too late. You gave me your word, and you’re keeping it."
I grab my bag and double-check the top. I’ve got my textbooks and notebooks arranged perfectly to hide what’s underneath. I even left my laptop and pens where they're easy to see. Deep at the bottom, hidden under everything, are the dark jeans and hoodie I actually need.
"All set?" Alexei asks.
"All set," I answer, nodding, even if I don't feel set at all. We head downstairs in the elevator. The house is still mostly empty, except for Maria and my mother who I may or may not be avoiding. She’s already setting out breakfast in the dining room. She smiles when she sees me.
"Good morning, dear. Sit. I made your favorites."
The table is covered in food. There’s fresh bread, steaming eggs, and fancy yogurt. I take a seat, and Alexei immediately claims the chair right beside mine. He could have picked any of the other six, but he wants to be close.
I chew my food carefully so I don't get sick. When I’m done, Alexei walks to the sideboard. My shoulders tense up instantly. He comes back and puts four pill bottles in a row. "Prenatal. Iron. Folic acid. Calcium."
I stare at them and make a face. "Do I have to?"
“Yes,” Alexei says immediately. He stays in his seat and lines up the bottles until they're perfectly straight. Maria comes over and puts a warm hand on my shoulder. She’s being sweet, but she's totally on his side.
“Come on, dear,” she says. “Just take them. It’ll help you feel less tired.”
I stare at the four pills. They look huge, and just thinking about swallowing them makes me want to gag.
“I’m not tired,” I lie. In reality, I’ve been falling asleep a lot and feeling like I've been hit by a truck.
“You need them for the baby,” Alexei says, his voice going soft. “Please, Vedma.”
Maria pats my shoulder again. “For the little one.”
I realize they aren't going to stop. “Fine. Whatever.”
I take the first pill from Alexei and try to swallow it with some water. Immediately, I start to gag. My body refuses to let it down, and I spit the wet pill into my hand. “I can’t,” I say, gasping for air.
“You can,” Alexei says softly. He pinches my nose shut, blocking my airway. I swallow desperately just so I can breathe again. It hurts my throat, but it’s down.
“Good girl,” he purrs. “Three more to go.”
Maria tries to soothe me, talking about the baby, but I can’t focus. The second pill goes down with another nose pinch. The third pill is worse - I’m gagging and crying now. By the fourth, I’m sobbing into my hands as I force myself to finish.
“This is the worst,” I sob, covering my face with my hands. Alexei pulls me onto his lap right away and lets me cry against his chest.
“I know. I know,” he says softly. He rubs circles on my back while I shake. “But you took them all. You did so well, and I’m proud of you.”
Maria stays close, rubbing my shoulder. She tells me I’m a strong girl and the baby will be healthy.
I wipe my nose on my sleeve and take a shaky breath. “I’m crying over vitamins. How is this my life?”
Alexei kisses the top of my head. “You’re allowed to cry,” he says. “You’re growing a human. It’s okay to hate taking huge pills every morning.”
He holds me until I’m calm, then helps me stand up. “Let’s get you to school.”
Alexei picks up a tote bag and starts laying things out on the counter. He goes through the list: vitamins, water, and snacks like dried fruit and crackers. He even has a pillow for my back and a phone that only connects to him. The last thing he pulls out is a pair of flat shoes.
“There’s no way I’m carrying all of this,” I tell him. I can’t imagine walking around campus with that bag.
“You’re not going to,” he says. “Sasha will handle it.”
I blink. “Who the hell is Sasha?”
“You’ll meet her in a bit,” Alexei says as he sets the bag aside. “I’ve been meaning to introduce you.” He looks at me. “Is there anything else?”
I bite my lip for a second. I might as well try. “Can I have some cash?”
He looks surprised. “Cash?”
“Yeah, for the vending machines at school,” I explain. The machines really don't take cards, so that’s not a lie. But perhaps that isn’t really my plan for the cash.
My husband stares at me, checking to see if I’m being honest. I give nothing away. “How much are you asking for?”
“Maybe five thousand rubles?” I say, trying to act like it’s not a big deal.
Alexei grabs his wallet and starts counting out bills. He hands me a stack of cash that is much bigger than what I asked for. I look at it in disbelief.
“This is a hundred thousand rubles.”
“Yes,” he says, like it’s nothing.
“I only asked for five thousand,” I say, showing him the money. “For vending machines.”
He takes my hand and closes my fingers around the cash. “Use your card for anything else. Keep this just in case.”
I look from the money to him and back again. “You just gave me over a thousand dollars for snacks.”
Alexei comes closer and rests his hand on my belly. He starts rubbing in slow circles. “You have to eat,” he says. I can hear how protective he’s being. “Don’t get too hungry. It isn't good for either of you.”
“I’ll eat. I’m eating.”
“Drink plenty of water, too,” he continues. “You need to stay healthy for the baby.”
“I know what the baby needs,” I remind him gently. But he just goes ahead to kiss my forehead and my nose before giving me a soft kiss on the lips.
“I love you,” he murmurs. “Both of you.”
“We love you too,” I say. He’s hovering, but strangely that's what I love about my husband.
In the foyer, I spot a woman who’s taller than me but has more of an athletic build than bulk.
She’s wearing casual clothes—dark jeans, a fitted jacket—completely different from the tailored suits Alexei’s men and women favor.
But from the way she watches the room and how alert she is, she’s no slouch.
“Zoya, this is Sasha,” Alexei says.
Sasha shakes my hand firmly. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Romanov. My name is Sasha Volkov. I have eight years of field experience in close protection. Former FSB operative, counterintelligence division. Three years embedded with the US Secret Service as an exchange agent. Specialized training in tactical combat, firearms, explosives detection, and emergency medical response. Fluent in six languages, including Mandarin and Arabic. Expert in surveillance, counter-surveillance, and threat assessment. Black belt in Krav Maga and Systema.”
Her expression is blank as she goes on. “I’ve protected diplomats, oligarchs, and high-value targets in conflict zones across three continents. You won’t even know I’m there, ma’am.”
I look at this woman who just casually mentioned she can dismantle bombs and speak six languages. I realize Alexei has hired a literal killer to be my campus babysitter.
“Yeah,” I say, letting all my sarcasm bleed into that one word. “And I better not see you anywhere near me. My friends are already suspicious. I don’t need this getting even more bizarre or pulling anyone else into my situation.”
Sasha gives a single nod. “Understood, ma’am. I’ll remain invisible.”
I turn to leave, trying not to think about how I’m going to spend the whole day being watched by a professional spy. I’m almost out the door when Alexei’s voice stops me short.
“Not so fast, Vedma. You forgot something.”
I turn around slowly. Alexei is leaning against the wall, casually twirling the GPS bracelet around his finger. I stare at the silver links. “I was just in a rush…”
“Give me your hand,” he says, walking toward me. He pulls my hand toward him and fastens the bracelet until the lock clicks shut. Even when it’s on, he doesn’t let go, keeping his grip tight around my wrist. He brings my wrist to his mouth and kisses the metal. “You’re a terrible liar, Vedma.”
He takes both bags and heads for the car, pulling the back door open. “Let’s go.”
Sasha gets in the front passenger seat without a word.
I slide into the back and settle against the leather seats, already resigned to my fate.
Alexei gets behind the wheel and starts the engine.
The entire drive to campus is going to take about forty minutes through morning traffic, and I’ve already decided I’m not speaking to him for any of it.
He keeps glancing at me in the rearview mirror, trying to catch my eye, but I stare determinedly out the window, watching buildings and people blur past.
I count storefronts to keep myself occupied. Fourteen coffee shops between the house and the university district. Better than counting the minutes until I can take this bracelet off my wrist.