31
NATALYA
I’m so fucking tired of crying. If I weren’t in the kind of situation that might make anyone cry hysterically every few minutes, I could blame pregnancy hormones.
It’s just… I love him and I hate that I do. In a perfect world, I’d have told him as soon as I found out. In a perfect world, I’d be sure that he would be a wonderful father to this baby. Maybe by now, we’d be planning our wedding.
I’m standing with my back to the door, looking down at the suitcase I’d started packing earlier today. Everything is spilled out on the floor, disregarded in a moment of passion. When I close my eyes, I can feel his touch on my skin and the warmth of his kisses. Why can’t this be like in the fairytales I used to read as a little girl? Why can’t this Bratva king be my knight in shining armor?
I almost laugh at that ridiculous train of thought. Bratva King and Knight in Shining Armor aren’t exactly synonymous with one another. If he truly were that for me, then we wouldn’t be here.
I kneel down to the clothing and upturned suitcase. I’ll have to get my phone back from him and I’ll need to call Ilya and tell her what happened. I don’t expect anyone will be coming after me anymore. At least he made sure of that. He kept his word to me about protecting me. That counts for something.
I don’t know what will happen to my father’s Bratva, but I’m sure without their leader, they’ll leave me in peace as well. I was never on anyone’s hit list except his, anyway.
Maybe in a few years, I’ll leave the city. I and this little one can have something different from this, I guess. I have no idea how to go about it. This existence, this life on the outskirts of the Russian Brotherhood is the only one that I’ve ever known. I hope I can be a good mother in the end. I can’t be any worse of a parent than my father.
I get the clothes packed and close the suitcase. It’s still hours before morning, but I should at least leave a message on Ilya’s voicemail. I’ll need Anton for that.
I leave my room. The door to his room is closed, but there’s nothing but darkness coming from underneath it. I wonder if he’s sleeping…
I hear the faint sound of glass clinking somewhere downstairs. Nope. Still awake. He’s probably in the kitchen or maybe having a drink in the living room.
I’m hesitating. My bare feet are digging into the carpet. Maybe I should wait until morning. Ilya would understand if I called her at the last minute tomorrow. Especially under the circumstances.
Or I can just ask for my phone and get it over with. I sigh. I don’t know if I have the bandwidth for any more of this. Knowing nowthat she’s ready to take me back in, no questions asked, sounds like a plan to me.
I walk down the stairs to the first floor. He’s not in the living room or the kitchen. Maybe I was hearing things. He could be sleeping…
I make the trek all the way down the hall to the study and the smell of his cologne greets me. A warm light emanates from under the closed door.
I raise my knuckles to the door only to notice that it’s cracked a little. I peer in, opening the door a little.
He’s sitting at his writing desk in the corner, drink in his hand… and what looks like a small black and white photo in the other hand. His eyes are as dark as coals as he traces the lines of the photo and takes a drink from his glass.
He sets the photo down on the desk and says, “You might as well come all the way in,Devushka. No sense standing in the doorway.”
His pet name for me strikes me like a bell and I move before I’m fully aware of it. I open the door and step in and he glances up at me, a smile playing at his lips.
“How did you know I was there?”
“Even barefoot, your steps are heavy as fuck,” he says. “I suppose you’re here for a reason?”
I look at him. He’s not drunk, but he doesn’t look well. His eyes are weary as he stares up at me and his neatly trimmed beard has a shabby appearance to it. “You’re looking at old photos?”
He glances at the photo on the desk and scoffs. Then he picks it up and holds it out to me. I walk over and take it from him. An ultrasound of a baby, or at least that’s what it looks like.
“Don’t worry,” he says, “It’s not mine. I’m not even sure it’s a baby, if we’re being honest. For all I know, this is an ultrasound of a dolphin fetus.”
I hand it back to him and he opens his writing desk and puts it back. “Kat’s great deception,” he says. “She put it in an envelope and gave it to me over dinner before announcing that she was pregnant. Right after I told her we weren’t right together. She said, ‘You can’t leave me and the baby.’ She actually said that to me.” He shakes his head, a bitter smile on his face. “And you want to hear something strange?”
I nod.
“I washappy. In that moment, when she told me that I was going to be a father, I was happier than I’ve ever been in my life. It was like everything was forgotten. All the lying, manipulation… all the bullshit we’d been through was washed away with one fucking sentence. You know, we were at a point in our relationship where every morning that I woke up next to her, I wanted to strangle her with my bare hands… but the minute I found out that she was pregnant, all that bile, that animosity, it was gone.” He snaps his fingers. “Just like that. Crazy, right?”
I don’t know what to say. I’ve never seen him like this. I clear my throat and start to speak, but he stops me with, “You can’t go, Natalya. Not like this.”
He’s looking at me with this big, vulnerable eyes. He means what he’s saying now. He stands and walks over to me. “I don’t wantthere to be any misunderstanding between us, Natalya. I want this baby and I want you. Don’t leave.”
