"I know." Her eyes search mine. "Is that good or bad?"
"It's—" I struggle for words. "It's terrifying. Bringing a child into this world, this danger. But it's also—God, Kira. A baby. Our baby."
"You're happy?" She sounds surprised.
"I'm terrified," I correct. "But yes. Happy." My hand moves to her stomach. "How are you feeling? Are you okay? Do you need—"
"I'm fine." She covers my hand with hers. "Morning sickness. Exhaustion. But fine. The baby is fine."
"The baby." I say it out loud, testing how it feels.
I sink onto the bed, pulling her down beside me. My hand stays on her stomach, like I can feel the life growing there even though I know it's too small yet. I want to protect that child. My hand over her stomach isn’t enough.
“If Roman finds out you're pregnant—"
“I know,” she whispers. “I was thinking we should run. We take Anya and we disappear. Leave Russia entirely.”
I understand her desire to get away. It’s crossed my mind, but I know it will never be over until Roman is dead and his network is crushed.
"I need to end this," I say. "Not just for us anymore. For our child. They can't grow up in this world. Can't be born into this danger."
"I know." She leans against me.
"It will work." I make it a promise. "Because the alternative is unacceptable. I won't let our child grow up without a father. Won't let Roman destroy another generation."
"We," she corrects softly. "We won't let that happen. We're in this together now."
"Have you told Anya?"
"She was there when I found out. But no one else knows." She looks up at me. "Maksim, we need to keep this quiet. If Roman learns I'm pregnant—"
"He'll use it against us." I understand immediately. "Another piece of leverage. Another way to hurt you."
We should be celebrating. Telling everyone. Planning a nursery and picking names and doing all the normal things expectant parents do.
Instead, we're hiding it like it's shameful instead of miraculous.
"I mean it, Kira. Whatever it takes. However ruthless I need to be. I'm ending this.”
"Don't get yourself killed trying to protect us," she says.
"I won't." I kiss her forehead. "I've survived six years in hell. I'm not dying now when I finally have something to live for."
"I love you," I say quietly. "I should have said it sooner. But I'm saying it now. I love you, Kira Markov.”
"I love you too." She tilts her face up to kiss me. "Always have. I will nevernotlove you.”
I decide not to tell her about the incident in the street. She doesn’t need the stress.
Iwillprotect this womanandour child.
Chapter Thirty-One
Kira
I pull back slightly, my eyes searching his face. The fear is still there—we both know the danger we're in. But something else shines through now. Hope. Determination. Love.
"Show me," I whisper. "Show me this matters. Thatwematter."
