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“Sadie?” he asks. “Krasotka.” Quickly, he comes to my side. The edge of the bed sags under his weight.
“Need to use the bathroom.” I barely get the words out when I’m kneeling again. I vomit until nothing comes up but bile.
“Kazimir,” I whine, like a child. I haven’t been sick like this in years, and I’m suddenly a little child again. “What’s wrong with me?”
“I don’t know, sweet girl,” he says, in a tender tone I’ve heard only rarely. ”Back in bed with you. I’ll call the doctor.”
I drift in and out of sleep while I wait. Kazimir covers me with a blanket, and I either fell asleep or the doctor came quickly, because before I know it, the young man who treated my leg injury is standing beside my bed. They converse in Russian, Kazimir’s tone initially concerned but shifting to anger. He wants me better, and he wants me better now. But some things, you can’t control. If I didn’t feel so gross, I’d probably smile to myself over this. He’s not a patient man.
The doctor instructs Kazimir out of the room, and Kazimir doesn’t like this at all, but he complies nonetheless. The doctor takes my temperature and frowns when the reading is normal. To my surprise, he gives me a little plastic container.
“I need a urine sample,” he tells me. “When is the last time you got your period?”
My cheeks flame. “Before I came here,” I tell him.
“How long was that?” he asks.
I shake my head. “I’m not exactly sure.” It’s been weeks, though.
“And you’re on birth control?” he asks. I nod. I’m supposed to be.
“I will speak with your master while you take care of what you need to,” he says, heading out of the room, but I’m struck with how weird his words are.
Is Kazimir my master?
It isn’t until I’m giving the doctor the sample that I really begin to process his line of questioning. Does the doctor think there could be another reason for me to be sick like this? I didn’t even think about the possibility of pregnancy. Kazimir already assured me that wasn’t possible.
I wash my hands and groan when another wave of nausea hits me. I’m sick again and again until all I want to do is curl up and sleep, even if the cold tile floor is my only respite. Someone comes in the bathroom but I don’t even look up. I’m so tired and so sick, I don’t protest at all when Kazimir lifts me in his arms, carries me to bed, and lays me down. He pulls the sheet up over my shoulder.
“Sleep, woman,” he whispers in my ear. I sleep.Chapter NineteenKazimirNikita stands before me fidgeting. She’s worked for me long enough to know the tone of my summons doesn’t bode well for her.
“Yes, sir?” she asks in Russian.
Sadie stirs in the other room, sitting up and watching our exchange. She adores Nikita, and I’m sure she’s curious why I’ve called her up to me.
I’m glad my exchange with her is in a language Sadie doesn’t understand. I have questions for Nikita that aren’t for Sadie’s ears. Not yet.
“Did you give Sadie the birth control pills?” I ask her directly, cursing myself inwardly for not checking before.
“Sir?” she asks with wide eyes.
“You heard me,” I snap, already knowing the answer to my question.
Blushing, she looks away and bites her lip without answering.
“Nikita,” I say, warningly. But I already know what she’s going to tell me. I hold myself back. My palm itches to strike her.
No one disobeys my instructions. If she were a man, she’d feel my wrath, but she’s a woman. Instead, I’ll have to fire her.
“I didn’t know you wanted them, sir,” she says. “You didn’t order them as you’ve done in the past, and you said that Sadie was different. If I knew you wanted them—”
“I told you to give her the usual supplements.”
“Supplements, sir. I thought you meant vitamins.”
I take in a deep breath, trying to quell my rising anger. She didn’t give her the birth control. Sadie is sick. Doctor Rothsky has given her a pregnancy test, and we’ll soon have the results.
“You’re fired,” I tell Nikita. “Leave. Pack your bags and do not return.”
Nikita stands, wringing her hands and pleading with me. “Sir,” she cries. “Please, sir, don’t.” She not only works here, but has lived here for years. Dismissing her puts her on the outs with the most powerful organized crime ring in our country.
I dismiss her with a wave of her hand. She allowed Sadie to become pregnant with her negligence, and now I don’t even know where I can begin to make this right.
We cannot bring a child into my world… our world. I’ve hurt enough innocent people already.
“Go,” I order her. “You have one hour to vacate.”
Her tear-filled pleas rouse Sadie, and soon, Sadie is standing in the doorway, wrapped in a sheet, looking as pale and wan as a ghost.
