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“And your dad wouldn’t try to force you to get an abortion, right?”
“Right,” I agree a little more slowly, confused where she’s going with this.
“So, I mean, no offense, but you’re basically, like, damaged goods at this point. Because no one your father would deem suitable to marry you will want to be with you when you’re already knocked up or a single mom.”
She makes it sound so logical, but her reasoning is irritatingly close to the way my dad and brother would put it. They’re always harping on about how I need to find a husband worthy of a connection to our family. Why it’s important to maintain my reputation. How I might not get to know anything about the family business but that I can still be of value to our legacy. Our legacy, though my only contribution can come the day I change my last name.
“Get to the point, Katie,” I insist, fighting the wave of frustration that washes through me. “Or did you want to throw in a few more impressively misogynistic, backhanded comments before you’re done?”
Katie rolls her eyes. “My point is that rather than putting his life in danger, maybe this baby could offer Mishka more protection if he promised to marry you. Because now that no one else will, I imagine your dad will want him to take responsibility for the child, right?”
Her words hit me like a ton of bricks, and I stare wide-eyed as I consider them. I mean, of course my father will be furious, but so long as Mishka agrees to support me and the child, Katie might just be right. My dad would never hurt me, and I’ve already made it impossible for him to insist that I marry someone else.
It’s either keep Mishka alive so I have a father for my child or kill the man I love and leave me alone in this world.
And as angry as I know it will make him, my father wouldn’t kill him. Besides, as far as he’s aware, Mishka is about as good as it gets when it comes to a man of little means. So now, the big question is whether or not I can trust Mishka with my father’s life—and whether or not he wants to be a father himself.
Immense relief floods me as I realize I’ll know the answer as soon as I tell Mishka about the baby. Either he’ll want to be a part of his baby’s life and can set aside his issues with my father to make that happen, or he’ll run for the hills because he doesn’t want to be a dad.
“Katie, you’re brilliant,” I breathe, pulling her into a tight hug.
She chuckles. “I know. That’s why you love me.”
Laughing breathily, I release her, and for the first time in days, my smile feels overwhelming and genuine.
“So, when are you going to tell Lover Boy that he’s about to become a daddy?”
I laugh again and give her a playful shove. “You mind if I call him now?” I bite my lip. “Though I’d rather tell him in person.”
Katie quirks an eyebrow. “You’ve spent plenty of our study sessions out with your secret beau. I think I can handle one more night. But so help me, if you get kidnapped or fall asleep and vanish on me again, I will hunt you down and murder you myself this time. Got it?”
“Got it.” Grinning from ear to ear, I pull my phone out of my pocket and scroll to find Mishka’s number.
My heart flutters nervously at the thought that I’m finally going to tell him I’m pregnant, and that familiar anxiety bubbles up inside me. Because there’s always the chance that he won’t be happy about it. Bucking up my courage, I hit Dial and press my phone to my ear.
He picks up almost immediately, and the growling anxiety in his voice makes my pulse quicken. “Alina? What’s wrong?” he asks urgently. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I’m fine. Really,” I insist, trying to calm him and my heart at the same time.
Hell, he sounds almost as traumatized by my abduction as I am. But usually, I try not to call him in case he’s with someone who isn’t supposed to know about us—which is most of the time. After everything that’s happened, no wonder he’s concerned. I just wasn’t thinking.
Worrying my lower lip with my teeth, I cling to my courage and press onward. “I was just hoping I could speak with you. Could you pick me up where you usually do?”
“Of course. I can be there in twenty,” he offers.
Releasing the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding, I nod, though I know he can’t see me. “Great.”
“You sure you’re okay?” he asks, his tone gentler this time.
“I’ll be better once I see you,” I assure him.
“Be there as quick as I can.”
Katie’s grinning like a Cheshire cat when I hang up and turn to face her once again. “Well?”
“He’ll be here in about twenty minutes.”
“The perfect amount of time for you to give me all the dirty details of your rather dramatic weekend,” she says, slinging her arm around my shoulders and steering me toward the couch.
