“She needs to know,” Dima responds.
“Not until we have confirmation.”
“Boris said—”
“Boris said it’s unclear. That means we wait.”
My heart stops.
Boris. They’re talking about Boris.
Which means they’re talking about Anton.
I yank the door open. Both of them freeze.
“Tell me what?” I demand.
They exchange a look.
“Mary—” Lev starts.
“Don’t. Don’t you dare lie to me right now.” My voice is shaking. “What did Boris say?”
Another pause. Too long.
Then Dima’s phone buzzes.
He looks at the screen. His face doesn’t change, but something in his eyes shifts.
“We need to talk,” he says.
And my world tilts sideways.
48
Mary
They’re choosing their words carefully.
I can see it. The way Dima’s jaw works. The way Lev won’t quite meet my eyes. The way they both stand there in the living room like they’re defusing a bomb instead of talking to a pregnant woman.
“Tell me what?” I repeat.
Lev opens his mouth. Closes it. Looks at Dima.
Dima’s face is stone. “Sit down.”
“I don’t want to sit down. I want you to tell me what the hell is going on.”
“Mary—”
“Now.”
Something shifts in my chest. Hardens. Because I’m done with this. Done with being handled like glass. Done with people deciding what I can or can’t handle.
I’m in this life now. For better or worse. Anton put a baby in me. Put me in this penthouse. Put guards on me twenty-four seven.
I don’t get to opt out of the hard parts.
