I pull back to look at her. “What do you mean?”
“Mikhail’s right that he can’t just walk away from his world. Too many people depend on him, and his enemies won’t let him retire peacefully.” She takes my hand. “But you’re right that he can’t keep solving every problem with violence. Not if he wants to be the kind of father your child deserves.”
“So what do I do?”
“You find a middle ground.” She squeezes my hand. “You help him see that being strong doesn’t always mean being brutal. That protecting his family can mean being smart and strategic instead of just feared.”
“He won’t listen to me. He thinks I’m naive about his world.”
“Then make him listen.” Melinda’s voice is firm. “You’ve proven yourself over and over. Use that. Show him you can be his partner in this, not just someone he needs to protect.”
Her words spark something in me. Hope, maybe. Or determination. “You really think I can change his mind?”
“I think if anyone can reach him, it’s you.” She smiles. “You’ve already changed him more than he probably realizes. The man who kidnapped you would never have shown mercy to Marco. He would never have tried to go legitimate in the first place. You’ve made him want to be better, Sophia. Now you just need to help him figure out how.”
I hug her tightly, grateful for her presence in my life. “Thank you. For everything. For staying here, for listening, for not judging me for loving a man who’s done terrible things.”
“That’s what best friends are for.” She pulls back and wipes a tear from my cheek. “Now go talk to your husband. Really talk to him. Make him understand what’s at stake.”
I nod, feeling more centered than I have in days. But as I stand, a sharp pain lances through my abdomen, making me gasp.
“Sophia?” Melinda’s voice is sharp with concern. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know.” I press my hand to my stomach, feeling another cramp. “It hurts.”
The pain intensifies, and I double over. Melinda catches me, her arm around my waist as she helps me to the bed.
“I’m calling Mikhail,” she says, already reaching for her phone.
“No, wait.” I try to breathe through the pain. “It’s probably nothing. Just stress.”
But even as I say it, I feel something warm and wet between my legs. When I look down, I see blood seeping through my pants.
“Mikhail!” Melinda’s scream echoes through the mansion. “Mikhail!”
The pain is getting worse, radiating through my entire body.
I curl into myself, terrified for my baby, for the tiny life growing inside me that suddenly feels so fragile.
Mikhail bursts through the door, his face going white when he sees me. “What happened?”
“She’s bleeding.” Melinda’s voice is steady despite the fear in her eyes. “We need to get her to the doctor.”
He scoops me into his arms without hesitation, and I cling to him as another wave of pain crashes over me.
“Hold on,” he murmurs against my hair. “Just hold on,moya lyubov. I’ve got you.”
As he carries me toward the door, all thoughts of our argument, of leaving, of the future we were fighting about, fade away.
All that matters is the life inside me and the desperate hope that it’s not too late.
The last thing I see before the pain overwhelms me is Mikhail’s face, his green eyes filled with a terror I’ve never seen before.
And I realize that no matter what happens between us, no matter what choices we make about his world and our place in it, we’re bound together now by something stronger than love or fear.
We’re bound by the tiny heartbeat that might be fading even as he races me toward help.
38
