Sofia
The funeral was last week. Three days of performative grief from people who either feared my father or wanted something from him.
I stood at the front in black Prada, accepting condolences I didn’t want, shaking hands with men who were already calculating how to use his death to their advantage.
They were already deciding how they could manipulate me. Push me.
They’d learn.
I played my part perfectly. The grieving daughter. The strong heir stepping into her birthright.
It was exhausting.
One day they’d push me, but for now, they’re still in watch and wait mode.
Tori showed up to the funeral. We didn't talk much, but she squeezed my hand on her way out and I held on longer than I meant to.
We've had coffee twice since then. It's different now, quieter, more careful, but it's still us.
Some friendships don't break. They just learn to bend around the things you can't say out loud.
There are too many things that demand my attention right now. My father’s estate needs to be handled. The lawyers keep calling. There are properties to liquidate, accounts to close, business holdings to transfer. I’ll handle it eventually. Just not today.
I’m still leaning toward lighting a match and letting it burn.
The only thing that stops me is my mother’s presence. That was her home. Maybe I can find pieces of her life stashed in some old closet. I’ll look.
But not today.
Today, I have something more important.
An hour later, I sit in the exam room, Sergei beside me, both of us staring at the ultrasound screen. The technician moves the wand across my stomach, her eyes focused on the monitor. She’s been quiet for too long. My heart rate picks up.
“Is something wrong?” I ask.
She smiles. “No, nothing’s wrong. I’m just making sure I’m seeing this correctly.”
“Seeing what correctly?” Sergei’s voice is tight.
The technician turns the screen toward us more fully. “You’re having twins.”
The words don’t register at first.
“Twins?” I repeat.
Fear grips me. I wasn’t sure I would be a good mother to one. And now there are two?
“Yes. See here?” She points to two distinct shapes on the screen. “Baby A and Baby B. Both have strong heartbeats. Both measuring right on track for nine weeks.”
I stare at the screen. Two babies. Two tiny lives growing inside me.
“Twins,” Sergei says, and I hear the wonder in his voice.
I look at him. His eyes are fixed on the monitor, his hand finding mine and squeezing tight.
The technician prints out several images for us.
When we leave the office twenty minutes later, I’m still processing.
“Twins,” I say again as we walk to the SUV.
There’s a smile on his face I’ve never seen before. Pure joy.
Nelson opens the door for me. I slide into the back seat, Sergei following. I stare at the ultrasound pictures in my hands.
“How am I supposed to run an empire with two babies?”
“The same way you’d do it with one,” Sergei says. “We’ll figure it out.”
I want to believe that. But the reality is settling in fast. Two babies mean twice the vulnerability. Twice the risk. Twice the people who can be used against me.
“We’ll need more security,” Sergei says.
I don’t argue. Not right now. I’m too overwhelmed to fight about security protocols.
“Take me to the office,” I tell the driver.
Sergei glances at me. “You sure you don’t want to go home? Rest?”
“I’m pregnant, not dying. I have work to do.”
He doesn’t push. He knows better.
Sergei gives me a kiss and hops into one of the other vehicles. Nelson escorts me inside. People need to see me here. Need to understand the transition is complete. I am the CEO. I am running things.
Nelson positions himself by the door, as always. But something feels different. I glance out the window and notice two men I don’t recognize standing in the area beyond my door. Not threats. I would have registered a threat.
“Nelson.”
“Yes?”
“Who are those two men?”
He doesn’t even look. “Additional security.”
“I didn’t request additional security.”
“Your husband did.”
I take a breath, forcing down the irritation. “How many extra men?”
“Two on the building. Two more in the garage.”
Four extra guards. Without consulting me.
I turn back to my computer and pull up my emails.
I spend the next three hours working through correspondence, reviewing financial reports, making decisions about properties and contracts.
It’s tedious work, but necessary. This is how empires are actually run, not through violence and intimidation, but through paperwork and red tape.
By the time I’m ready to leave, it’s past six.
“Ready?” Nelson asks.
“Yes.”
The drive home is quiet. I stare out the window, my mind already preparing for the conversation I need to have with Sergei.
He’s in his office when I arrive. I walk straight in without knocking.
“Four extra guards?” I say without preamble.
He looks up from his laptop. “Yes.”
“You didn’t think to discuss this with me first?”
“No.”
The bluntness of it makes my jaw clench. “I’m running an empire, Sergei. I need to be able to make decisions about my own security.”
“You are running an empire,” he agrees. “An empire with my babies growing inside you. Two of them. And I’d like all three of you to survive the experience.”
“They’re my babies too,” I shoot back. “I would never put them in danger.”
He stands, moving around the desk. “You’re not invincible, Sofia. You’re pregnant with twins. That makes you a target in ways you weren’t before.”
“I’ve always been a target.”
“Not like this.” He stops in front of me. “Before, you only had yourself to protect. Now you’re carrying our children. That changes everything.”
“It doesn’t change my ability to make my own decisions.”
“I’m not trying to take that from you.”
“Then stop making security decisions without consulting me.”
We stare at each other. The tension in the room is thick enough to cut.
“Fine,” he says finally. “We’ll discuss security changes before implementing them. But I need you to understand something. I will do whatever it takes to keep you safe. If that means overstepping sometimes, I’ll accept your anger. But I won’t apologize for protecting you.”
It’s not exactly a concession, but it’s something.
“I want Anton on my personal detail,” I say. “Full time.”
Sergei’s jaw tightens. “He’s still recovering.”
“This is non-negotiable. You get your extra guards. I get Anton.”
He studies my face, clearly weighing whether this is a battle worth fighting.
“Fine,” he says. “Anton joins your detail. But he’s not your only guard. He works alongside Nelson and the others.”
“Agreed.”
The tension doesn’t completely dissipate, but it eases slightly.
“I’m not trying to control you,” Sergei says quietly. “I’m trying to keep you alive.”
“I know.” I step closer to him. “But you need to trust that I can handle myself.”
“The Moscow situation hasn’t been handled yet,” he reminds me.
More cousins who want me dead. How could I forget.
I lean up and kiss him. It’s meant to be brief, but he deepens it, pulling me against him.
When we finally break apart, I’m breathless. “I’m trusting you to handle it. Just tell me when you do.”
He arches one brow.
“What?” I shrug. “I know you will.”
He grabs my ass and squeezes, jerking my body against his. “I love it when you’re demanding.”
“Yeah?”
He nods slowly.
I twist my hand in the front of his shirt. “Good, because tonight, I will have plenty of demands.”