It’s other things, too.
Our time on the couch with Nikolai still haunts me. I see his face. Still hear his deep, guttural moans. I can still recall the feeling of his length inside of me, thick, hot, and almost unnaturally hard.
I don’t know what I was doing that night, but my body betrayed me completely.
When an intruder enters your property, you’re supposed to kick them out and call the cops. Instead, I eagerly participated in jumping his bones, like we were in a crappy porn movie.
Scratch that.
‘Crappy’ isn’t exactly the word I’d use for the earth-shattering sex we had.
Besides, even though he technically broke into my flat, I know calling the cops wouldn’t have done much. Not with someone like Nikolai Rogov. The only thing it would have achieved was getting Sophia into even more trouble. With a Bratva ring on her finger, she’s part of the syndicate now. That puts her in the firing range.
Soph and I have only spoken a few times since. She keeps saying things are ‘good’ with Timur and he respects her well enough to give her space whenever she needs it. I don’t even know what that means. Perhaps I’m only getting farther away from the truth. What if Nikolai is right about Timur not being involved in Mom’s murder? Not that I trust Nikolai, no. I simply don’t see what interest he’d have in lying to me.
And then, there’s the thing he told me about my father. That he brought friends to the scene. What the hell is that supposed to mean?
Ping!
The timer startles me from my thoughts.
I pick up the pregnancy test.
And my eyes deceive me.
I blink a few times to make sure I’m not imagining things.
Because not one, but two lines are staring back at me.
Two freaking lines!
It can’t be.
I rush out of the bathroom and head back to the doctor’s office. “Can I have another one, please? I think I took the test wrong.”
He re-opens the drawer, hands me another test, and flashes me a knowing look. I rush away again, and repeat the procedure, silently praying for a different result.
Positive.
Again.
No!
My breathing becomes shallow. Anxiety presses into my chest. I toss both sticks in the trash, unsure whether I want to cry or scream or vomit.
What about my job? My freedom? I’m not ready for a baby, especially not from a mobster like Nikolai Rogov. What the hell was I thinking when I slept with him?
You were not thinking, girl.
You were too busy giving in to your body’s treacherous desires.
Dammit!
Whether I like it or not, I must face the consequences of my actions. I’m pregnant. And with Nikolai Rogov as the father, that tangles me up with the Bratva. How could I have been so stupid? Why did I have to go and sleep with him?
I don’t want anything to do with him.
Yeah, right.
