“The gender?”
“Yes.”
“I thought you liked controlling everything.”
“I do. This is unpleasant.”
I laughed softly. “Poor Pakhan.”
His eyes narrowed. “Careful, wife. I’m still dangerous.”
“I know.” I leaned closer. “That’s one of the reasons I married you.”
His thumb moved once over my stomach. “Only one?”
“One of the better reasons.”
The heat in his eyes deepened, and for one dangerous second, I thought he really might carry me out of the baby shower before the first guest had a sandwich.
Oksana saved us by appearing beside the cake table with the calm urgency of a woman whose schedule had reached the sacred portion.
“Mrs. Sorin,” she said to Galina, then looked at me with a softer expression. “The baker confirmed everything is ready.”
Vadim’s hand tightened over my belly.
I looked at him. “Still unpleasant?”
“Very.”
“Good.”
He helped me stand as if I were carrying the future of his bloodline and also possibly made of spun sugar. I let him because it pleased him, and because his hands on me still made something inside me go liquid and bright.
Guests gathered around the long table. Sorin men with careful faces. Women in pale dresses and silk suits. Tamar at my side. Petya near Lev, trying to look composed and failing every time he glanced at the cake. Galina stood at the head of the table with Oksana beside her, her expression proud enough to make the ceiling feel higher.
The cake was elegant and almost absurdly beautiful. Three tiers of ivory buttercream, faint gold leaf, sugared roses, and a smooth champagne ribbon around the base. No hint of what waited inside.
Oksana handed Vadim the silver knife.
He took it, then looked at me. “Together.”
My throat tightened.
I placed my hand over his on the handle.
Everyone fell quiet.
For one sharp second, I saw another place. A stage. Pale fabric on my skin. Men watching. Gennady smiling like the world had already bent for him.
Then Vadim’s hand covered mine completely.
The penthouse smelled of roses, sugar, warm pastry, and my husband’s cologne. Tamar stood close enough that her sleeve brushed mine. Petya watched me with his heart in his face. Galina’s pearls gleamed under the chandelier. Lev stood by the door, steady and silent. Oksana held a white plate ready.
No one here had bought me.
No one here owned my fear.
Vadim lowered his mouth near my temple. “Cut, moya zhena.”
