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The idea of being on the other side of that equation, of being the one who has to soothe and comfort and nurture, it makes my palms sweat and my heart race.

What am I supposed to do when the baby is screaming and I don’t know how to soothe them? What if I fuck it up? What if the baby grows up and hates me?

But I don’t have a choice. This baby—Nico’s baby—is coming, whether I’m ready or not.

“Kat!” Seraphina’s voice jolts me out of my spiraling thoughts.

She’s standing by the window, her little nose pressed against the glass, her riotous curls already falling out of the ponytail that Marta put them in. “Outside! I wanna go outside!”

I hesitate, glancing at the overcast sky. But the thought of spending another minute cooped up in this house, with nothing but my own fears for company is enough to propel me to my feet.

“Okay, Bee,” I say, using the nickname I’ve grown fond of. The way the nickname began is a bit ridiculous. She was Seraphina, then Seraphina Bumbalina, then Bumblebee, and now Bee. “Let’s go get some fresh air.”

She squeals in delight, already racing for the door. I follow at a more sedate pace, grabbing a light jacket and shoes on the way.

The grounds are quiet, the only sound the crunch of gravel beneath our feet and the distant chirping of birds. Seraphina takes off immediately, darting among the flower beds and shrubs with gleeful abandon.

I settle myself on a low stone wall, keeping a watchful eye on her antics. She’s chattering away to herself, making up stories and adventures starring her various stuffed animals.

For a moment, I let myself relax, breathing in the cool, crisp air. My mind wanders, as it so often does these days, to Nico.

It’s still hard for me to reconcile the man I’ve come to know with the infamous mafia underboss who kidnapped Seraphina and held me captive.

There’s a darkness in him, a ruthless edge that both terrifies and thrills me.

But there’s also a tenderness, a fierce protectiveness that makes my heart ache in ways I never thought possible.

I know I shouldn’t feel this way.

I know I should hate him for everything he’s done, but somehow, against all reason, I don’t. Somehow, in the midst of all this chaos and danger, I’ve found myself falling for him.

That terrifies me more than anything else.

How can I face my family, my friends, and tell them that I’m carrying the child of the man who tore their lives apart? How can I look Maksim and Nikolai in the eye, knowing the betrayal they’ll see staring back at them?

My stomach lurches at the thought with a sickening wave of guilt and fear. The Bratva may not be my world, but Maksim and Nikolai…they’re all I have left. The only family I can claim as my own.

Will they turn their backs on me, once they know the truth? Will I lose them, just like I’ve lost so much else? And what about Aria? Danny? The new baby that must have arrived by now? A niece or nephew I may never get to meet, if Maksim decides I’m no longer welcome in their lives.

The thought is like a knife to my heart, a pain so sharp and sudden that it steals my breath. I close my eyes against the sting of tears, trying to will away the ache in my chest.

But then, slowly, an uneasiness starts to prickle at the back of my neck. There’s a sense of wrongness, of something out of place.

My eyes fly open, scanning the perimeter of the garden with a growing sense of dread. It takes me a moment to realize what’s missing.

The guard. The one who’s always stationed at the entrance, a silent, looming presence.

He’s gone.

My heart starts to pound, a sickening lurch in my chest. I stand up, my eyes frantically searching for Seraphina.

“Seraphina!” I call, trying to keep my voice calm and level despite the fear clawing at my throat. “Come here, Bee. It’s time to go inside.”

But she’s not listening, too caught up in her imaginary world to heed the urgency in my tone. She darts behind a tall hedge, her giggles floating back to me on the breeze.

“Catch me, Kat!” she squeals, her little feet pattering on the gravel path.

I force a smile, even as my heart pounds a sickening rhythm in my chest. “Okay, Bee,” I say, playing along. “I’m coming to get you!”