My voice cracks. “He doesn’t want love. I don’t think he even believes in it. He wants legacy, control, order. I’m just… part of that plan.”
Sophia’s smile softens. “Men like Vitali don’t do anything halfway. When they fall… they fall like molten rock.”
I twist the hem of my sleeve between nervous fingers. “And if he doesn’t?”
“Then you’ll still have a child to love.” She squeezes my hand. “And a degree to earn. And a future that’s yours to shape.”
I look at her, envy and admiration coiling inside me like smoke.
“You’re not alone anymore, Charlotte,” she whispers. “No matter what. Not even if that contract says so. Once you become a mom, everything changes.”
And for the first time today, my breathing feels easier.
The baby kicks, a small flutter, more like a tickle than anything.
I press my hand to that tiny movement, awed all over again.
Sophia notices and beams. “See? Someone else doesn’t want you worrying either.”
A warm laugh escapes me before I can stop it.
I want this feeling forever. I want Vitali to be here when the baby kicks again. I want him to hold me when the nights get heavy. I want to stay in his arms long after the six-month weaning clause in our contract.
I want impossible things.
I exhale a shaky breath and whisper the truth aloud for the first time:
“I don’t want this to end.”
“Then tell him that,” she says simply. Like it’s the easiest thing in the world.
Vitali
Work has never felt like this before.
I’ve always excelled at every task. Cold logic. Getting shit done without letting anything touch me.
But it’s been thirteen hours since I left Charlotte and I feel feral. She is at home. Pregnant. Soft. Alone. And I am here trying to focus on shit that I wish didn’t need my attention.
Iosif, my cousin who is also bound to making an heir on a deadline, drones on about port diversions and transit schedules. Anyone else would pay close attention, but every slide of the presentation might as well be static. Because all I can think about is whether she’s eaten enough. Slept enough. Whether she misses me as much as I fucking miss her.
Avros elbows me, grinning like a shithead. “You’re good, right? Didn’t leave your little maid-wife needy and desperate?”
My fist is already swinging before my brain engages.
The crack of knuckles into his mouth is satisfying in a way I’m not proud of. He reels back, hand flying to his lip, eyes wide in shock.
“What the fuck, Vitali?”
Iosif sighs at the interruption. Yury doesn’t even flinch. He just sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“You’re going to break the contract if you keep this up.”
My glare snaps to him. “What contract?”
“The one that ends when this baby is six months old,” Yuri says calmly. “The one that requires you to pay her and let her go.”
My pulse slams so hard I feel it everywhere, skin, teeth, spine. My head throbs with a stabbing pain that I’m unfamiliar with.
