"Be right back."
I'm up, chair skidding, legs carrying me across the patio, through the sliding doors, down the hall, and into the nearest bathroom.
I barely make it.
My hair clings to my neck as I heave, eyes watering, world spinning. When there's nothing left, I sit back on my heels, sweaty and shaking.
What the hell was that?
I pull myself together enough to return to the patio. Natalia and Pasha both look up when I appear.
Pale, sweaty, and definitely not in a sandwich mood. I drop into my chair, push the whole platter away, and reach for fruit instead. Grapes. Safe. Harmless. Odorless.
"You're not hungry?" Natalia asks lightly.
"Not for fish. That sandwich smells like it crawled out of hell itself."
She looks at me like she knows something I don't. Her lips twitch. "How far along are you?"
I nearly choke on a grape. "What?"
"The baby." Her eyes hold steady on mine. "I was the same way with anything fish when I was pregnant. Couldn't even walk past a seafood counter without making a run for it."
My mind goes completely blank. Like someone unplugged my brain and wheeled it away.
Pregnant?
No way.
Except...
When was my last period?
A mental calendar flips through my brain like a Rolodex on speed. We've been intimate, very intimate, since the wedding night. And I haven't exactly been tracking my cycle in the midst of Bratva drama.
"I'm not..." I start automatically, then pause. Am I? Could I be?
Something flutters in my chest. Not nausea this time. A spark of something bright and terrifying and wonderful.
A baby. With Nikolai. A sibling for Pasha.
"I don't know," I finally say. Softer than intended. "I hadn't thought about it."
Pasha looks between us, confused. "Thought about what?"
Natalia smiles at him gently. "Grown-up stuff, honey."
He makes a face, immediately disinterested, and returns to his sandwich.
"It could be nothing," I say, but my hand drifts to my stomach. "Just a weird reaction."
Natalia's smile widens. "Of course. But if it's not nothing, congratulations." She leans forward, lowering her voice. "I'll pick up a test when I go out tomorrow."
That stings more than it should. The casualwhen I go out.
Because she can, and I can't. Nikolai made it clear when I asked about joining her for a shopping trip. Natalia's free to come and go because, in his words, "If she gets snatched or killed while she's out, I don't care."
Which is his unique way of saying trust issues are thriving, thank you for asking.
