“The fetal heartbeat is strong still,” Dr. Petrov says, and I feel Sophia sag with relief against me. “But Mrs. Artyomov needs complete bed rest for the remainder of her pregnancy. No stress,no physical exertion, no excitement of any kind. I’m prescribing medication to help prevent further complications, but this is serious. The threatened pregnancy then this? If she doesn’t follow these instructions exactly, we could lose the baby.”
The words hit me like bullets.
Lose the baby.
Our child, the tiny life we’ve created together, could be gone because I’ve been so focused on external threats that I missed the one happening right in front of me.
“Whatever she needs,” I say, my voice steady despite the fear coursing through my veins. “Whatever it takes. Money is no object.”
“It’s not about money.” The doctor meets my gaze directly. “It’s about rest and reducing stress. Which means, Mr. Artyomov, that you need to create an environment where your wife feels safe enough to tell you when something is wrong. Where she doesn’t feel like she has to hide her pain to protect you.”
The accusation stings because it’s true.
I’ve been so busy building walls around Sophia, so consumed with keeping her physically safe, that I’ve made her feel emotionally isolated.
She couldn’t come to me with this because she was afraid of adding to my burden.
I’ve failed her in the worst possible way.
After the doctor leaves with instructions for medication and follow-up appointments, I carry Sophia to our bedroom. She’sexhausted, her body limp in my arms, but she clings to me like I’m her lifeline.
I settle her carefully on the bed, propping pillows behind her back and pulling the covers up to her waist.
Then I sink down beside her, taking her hand in both of mine.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” The question comes out quieter than I intend, all the anger drained away and replaced by hurt. “Did you really think I wouldn’t want to know?”
“I thought I could handle it.” She won’t meet my eyes. “I thought if I just rested more, if I was careful, it would get better on its own. And you were already so stressed about the business, about keeping us safe. I didn’t want to be another problem you had to solve.”
“You’re not a problem.” I lift her hand to my lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “You’re my wife. The mother of my child. You’re everything to me, Sophia. Don’t you understand that?”
“I understand that you’ve been drowning.” She finally looks at me, and the pain in her blue eyes makes my chest ache. “I see it every day. The weight of responsibility crushing you. The impossible choices you have to make. I didn’t want to add to that.”
“So you suffered alone instead.” I stroke my thumb across the back of her hand. “You were in pain and scared, and you didn’t think you could come to me.”
“I’m sorry.” Her voice breaks. “I’m so sorry, Mikhail. I should have told you. I should have trusted you.”
“No.” I shake my head, the guilt settling over me like a shroud. “I should have made you feel like you could trust me. I’ve beenso focused on protecting you from external threats that I didn’t realize I was becoming a threat myself. My overprotectiveness, my need to control everything, it pushed you away when you needed me most.”
I stand and pace to the window, my hands clenched into fists at my sides.
The compound stretches out below, all the security measures I’ve put in place to keep her safe.
But what good are walls and guards if she doesn’t feel safe enough to tell me she’s in pain?
“Things are going to change,” I say, turning back to face her. “Starting now.”
“Mikhail—”
“I’m stepping back from day-to-day operations.” The decision crystallizes as I speak it aloud. “Tony can handle most of it. Viktor and the others can manage the rest. My priority is you and our baby. Nothing else matters.”
“You can’t do that.” Sophia struggles to sit up straighter. “Your organization needs you. Your men depend on you.”
Ever since she heard me talking about the dirty councilman weeks ago, Sophia’s position on my work has changed somewhat.
She no longer thinks I’m out to kill anyone who gets in my way and she knows I’m trying to go legit, but that it will take a while.
“And my wife needs me more.” I return to the bed, sitting on the edge and taking her face in my hands. “I’ve been trying to be the pakhan and the husband and the father-to-be, and I’m failing atall of it. Something has to give, and it’s not going to be you. Not again.”
