“Whatmakes sense?” Her voice cracks. “Your hating me makes sense. Your being furious makes sense. But this? Claiming a baby that isn’t yours? Pretending it’s your child when you know it’s not?”
“It’s Volkov blood,” I say firmly. “Thatmakes it mine. And you’re my wife. That makes you mine, and that’s all that matters.”
“But why?” She’s sobbing now. “Why would you do this? After—after everything? After what I did?”
“Because you’re my wife,” I say simply.
Vera stares at me like she’s trying to figure out if this is real or some kind of cruel trick. And I don’t blame her. After yesterday why would she trust anything I say?
But this isn’t about trust. This is about what’s right and necessary
That baby is Alexei’s and if the baby is mine to protect, then so is she.
“I’m still angry,” I tell her honestly. “At you and Alexei, at this whole fucked-up situation. I don’t know when I’ll stop being angry. Maybe never. But that doesn’t change what needs to happen.”
“And…” She stops and clears her throat. “And what needs to happen?” Her voice is so small and hopeless.
“You stay. The baby stays. We figure out how to make this work.” I stand, needing distance before I do something stupid like try to comfort her. “Dr. Petrov will come back today to check on you, and you’ll follow his instructions. You’ll eat. You’ll rest. You’ll take care of that baby.”
“And us?” she whispers. “What about us?”
Us. Like there’s an “us” to speak of. Like we’re anything other than two people trapped in an impossible situation by circumstances and blood and choices made by people who are dead.
“I don’t know,” I admit, hating how her face falls. “I don’t know what we are. But you’re my wife. That baby will be my child in the eyes of the world. And I protect what’s mine.”
Even if what’s mine was my brother’s first. Even if every time I look at her, I’m reminded of his betrayal.
I protect what’s mine.
And now, whether I like it or not, that includes her and the baby growing inside her.
“Get some rest,” I tell her, heading for the door. “Mrs. Kozlov will bring you something to eat. You need to…” I stop, the words catching. “You need to take care of yourself. For the baby.”
For Alexei’s baby.
I leave before she can respond, closing the door firmly behind me.
And if I lean against that closed door for a moment, trying to catch my breath, trying to reconcile the rage and pain and this strange protective instinct that’s taken root—well, no one needs to know about that.
She’s mine now. The baby is mine now.
And I’ll be damned if I let anyone take them away.
11
VERA
If I thought my life was difficult before, I was catastrophically wrong.
Dimitri’s decision to claim me and the baby hasn’t made things better. If anything, it’s made everything infinitelyworse. I’m not just his unwanted wife now, I’m his responsibility. His thing to control.
And control is exactly what he does.
It starts the morning after his declaration when I wake to find Mrs. Kozlov standing over my bed with a breakfast tray.
“Mr. Volkov’s orders,” she says, her tone making it clear she’s not thrilled about playing nursemaid. “You eat everything. I tell him if you don’t.”
I stare at the food—scrambled eggs, toast, fruit, juice—and my stomach immediately rebels. Just the smell of the eggs makes nausea rise in my throat.
