I do believe it. That’s the terrifying part.
I believe that Aleksandr Sharov—the man who kidnapped me, forced me into marriage, reduced me to strategic asset—will protect me more fiercely than my own blood ever did.
The realization makes something crack wider in my chest.
The fight goes out of me halfway through. Exhaustion and grief and too many emotions I can’t name crash over me all at once.
I collapse against his chest, tears soaking into his expensive shirt, my hands fisting in the fabric like he’s the only solid thing in a world that keeps shifting.
His arms come around me immediately. One hand in my hair, the other pressed firm against my back. Anchoring me while I fall apart.
“They never chose me,” I choke out. “Never. Not once. I tried so hard, and it was never enough.”
“I know.”
“My father sold me like I was property.”
“I know.” His hand strokes my hair. “And he was wrong. They were all wrong.”
“You did the same thing. Married me for heirs. For bloodlines.”
“No.” He pulls back just enough to tilt my face up. His thumb brushes away tears, the gesture unexpectedly gentle. “I married you because letting you go was impossible. The heir conversation was real, but it wasn’t why.”
“Then why?”
His gaze drops to my mouth. Lingers there for a heartbeat too long. I can feel the want radiating off him, the barely restrained need to close the distance.
He doesn’t kiss me. Just holds my face between his palms, close enough that I feel his breath against my lips.
“You’re you,” he says finally. “That’s reason enough.”
The words settle into my chest, warm and dangerous and absolutely terrifying.
I’m starting to believe him. Starting to believe that maybe I matter to him beyond strategic value.
If that’s true—if he actually wants me for reasons that have nothing to do with heirs or alliances—then everything I’ve been telling myself about this marriage is wrong.
“I need to tell you something,” I hear myself say.
His hands are still on my face, thumbs still stroking my cheeks. “What?”
My heart hammers. This is it. The moment everything changes.
“I’m pregnant. Actually pregnant, not just hypothetically,”
His entire body goes still. Eyes widening, breath catching, every muscle tensing.
“You think?”
“Iknow.I’m late, very late, and I’ve been nauseous. Exhausted. All the signs.” I swallow hard. “I don’t know for sure. I was trying to get a test today. That’s why I wanted to come alone.”
He stares at me. Processing. Calculating. A dozen emotions flashing across his face too fast to read.
“We’ll find out,” he says finally. “Now. Today.”
“What about my family?”
“Can wait.” He releases my face and grabs my hand, already pulling me toward the car. “Viktor, we’re leaving.”
