“Why? Did you do something to her?” Her expression was blank, hinting that she already knew what was happening and was displeased by it.
“We…disagreed on something,” I answered.
“You disagreed on something? Really?” She raised her brows, a faint frown perched on her face.
I leaned back in my chair, fingers rubbing my eyes. I was uncomfortable with her cold stares. “What do you want me to say, Olga?”
“I want you to take accountability for what you did,” she replied, her voice low but laced with a hint of anger.
“WhatIdid?” A soft scoff of disbelief fell off my lips. “What about whatshedid? I don’t know what she told you, but she started it.”
She paused for a second, a small grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Oh, Demyon, you’re a master strategist who’s built a reputation that precedes him. But when it comes to women, you’re as clueless as they come.”
She was right. Iwasclueless, and that’s why I called for her.
“You can flex your muscles to your enemies and intimidate them with your lack of self-control when you’re angry,” she added, the words spilling smoothly. “But whenever you’re dealing with a woman who’s in a delicate situation like Eva…you never ever snap the way you did.”
Crazy how her voice was low and polite yet her words sliced through my heart like a sharp knife. It suddenly felt like I was being scolded for my bad behavior, and there was nothing I could do about it because she was right.
Olga was able to school me without being disrespectful despite her own anger and disappointment. Why wouldn’t I respect a woman like that?
As I sat there, digesting her words, a phrase she’d said suddenly struck me. “Wait. What did you mean by ‘delicate situation’?” I edged closer, elbows on my desk. “What delicate situation is she in?”
Olga tilted her head slightly to the side. “She didn’t tell you?”
My eyes squinted. “Tell me what?”
Her gaze dropped to the floor, and she murmured under her breath, “Shit.”
I couldn’t help noticing the obvious shift in her countenance—almost like she knew she just messed up.
“Olga, what was she supposed to tell me that she didn’t?” I questioned, my voice laced with a hint of authority.
She met my gaze again and shook her head. “Please, ask her yourself. It’s not my secret to tell.”
My scowl deepened, fingers clenching into fists on both hands. “Olga, I respect you. But do not make me repeat myself,” I growled, revealing a glimpse of the monster within.
She wiped a palm over her face, her hand resting just below her neck as she held my gaze. It was clear that she wouldn’t enjoy spilling the beans, but I left her with no choice.
“I know how much you want to protect her,” she said, her chest heaving slowly. “Well, let’s just say now, you have to make room for one more under your shelter.”
I tilted my head, confused by her explanation, though deep down I had an idea of what she was trying to say.
“Oh, come on, Demyon, must I spell it out for you? She’s pregnant.”
“She’s pregnant!”Her voice echoed in my head over and over again.
I froze in place, my breath ceased, and at that moment, even my heart stopped for a minute. Eva was carrying my child—a little Tarasov was growing in her womb.
At first, everything was blurry, and then the world around me faded into the background. The realization hit me hard; I was going to be a father, and with that came a mix of emotions. Confusion. Fear. Anger.
I had no idea what to do, where to begin, or how to begin, especially because my relationship with Eva was undefined. My fury turned inward: at fate, at myself, and at anyone who’d dare endanger that unborn baby or its mother.
The thought flooded me with terror and possession at the same time. My first instinct was to protect what was mine at all costs. At this point, Eva was going nowhere—not while carrying my child.
This baby had just made her a more valuable target for my enemies. The outside world wasn’t safe for her anymore. Because of that, she would remain behind these walls, whether she liked it or not.
It was for her own good.
