But they were also the necessary evil that society didn’t know it needed. The more time I spent with them, the more I started to think like them. As fascinating as that was, it wasalso scary. I knew that I would have to tread carefully lest I lose myself in a strange world.
With each passing day, my body grew restless and more tired as the child shifted inside me. Every moment was a reminder of what was to come—motherhood. I told myself that no matter what, I would be a much better parent than my father.
He did a wack job, and I promised my unborn baby that I wasn’t going to be like him. I wouldn’t follow in his footsteps. With a mother like and a father like Demyon, our child would be the luckiest kid in the world.
However, as I neared the delivery date, I couldn’t help feeling stuck between fear and anticipation.
That fateful evening, while Demyon was away for an urgent business meeting, I was left behind, surrounded by guards. He couldn’t take me with him because I was too fragile to be moving about.
According to the doctor, at this point, I needed all the rest and peace in the world. Demyon wouldn’t have gone for that meeting; he would’ve just sent Ilya to represent him. But these were high-profile clients who demanded that they meet with him in person.
Closing this deal would be a huge win for the Bratva, and I wasn’t going to be the reason he missed it. So, I convinced him to go, reassuring him that I would be fine. Besides, I wasn’t due for another few weeks.
I’d had no idea.
I had just gotten out of bed with my hands on my lower back when a sharp pain gripped my stomach. My face twisted in agony, an abrupt groan spilling from my lips.
At first, I wanted to dismiss it as one of those momentary pains. But then, it came again, this time sharper than before.
I grabbed one of the poles of the bed with one hand and my lower abdomen with the other. The pain was so unbearable that I could neither sit nor move.
“Olga,” I called, my voice low and shaky.
My legs were trembling beneath me, my chest rising and falling with rapid breaths. I thought that maybe if I stood still, the pain would cease, but it didn’t. Instead, it was growing by the second.
“Argh!” I groaned, my grip tightening around the pole.
I couldn’t explain the kind of pain in my stomach. It was alien to me, and it felt like it was draining the life out of my body. “Olga….”
There was no way she could hear when my voice was barely above a whisper. Tears filled my eyes as I stood there, unable to move. I felt something trickling down my thighs, and when I glanced down, I realized that I was bleeding from my vagina.
My breath hitched, and my eyes went wide in shock. With what little strength I had left in me, I screamed, “Olga!!!”
My voice, dripping with sheer pain and agony, echoed off the walls. Seconds later, the door swung open, and she barged in together with some maids and a few guards.
By the time they reached me, my dress was already soaked with blood. I felt lightheaded, and my vision was blurry. Olga was speaking to me, but I couldn’t make out what she was saying. My heartbeat was slowing as the concerned voices around me faded into the background.
The sound of my own shallow breaths echoed in my head, the world tilting between light and dark.
I felt myself being lifted off the ground, but I was already drifting unconscious and couldn’t tell what was happening.
“Demyon…” I murmured to myself, my voice weak and inaudible.
The last thing I heard before passing out was, “There’s no time to take her to the hospital—the baby’s coming!”
With that, I closed my eyes, hoping to God that I didn’t lose my baby. Voices fell silent, and the world turned black.
Epilogue —Demyon
One Year Later
I sat in the front row beneath the warm glow of overhead lights, banners hanging from the high ceiling. The auditorium was abuzz with applause rolling like waves, scattered laughter, and the rustle of gowns and programs.
None of that mattered to me because my eyes were fixed on my wife as she stood with the other graduates. I beamed at her from the crowd, my heart warm with pride. Eva had gone through hell this past year and had near-death experiences on multiple occasions.
Yet she survived everything that life threw at her, the good and bad. As a couple, we accepted the things we couldn’t change—the losses that were unavoidable. We refused to let anything break us or steal our joy.
Despite everything we went through, she still found the courage to return to school and complete her education. Of course, she had my full support. Psychology had always been what she wanted to study, and being married to me didn’t stop her from achieving that dream.
