Page 36 of Claimed By my Ex’s Uncle

He cocks his head slightly. "You’ve got a long way to go with your pregnancy yet," he points out. "Anything could happen in that time."

My heart thuds against my chest. His tone might be playing at innocent, but I can sense something pulsing just beneath the surface, my deepest instincts recognizing a threat. I part my lips, but no words come.

"What are you trying to say?" I finally manage.

Sergei looks me up and down, letting the silence linger, clearly all too pleased to let my mind run through all the terrifying possibilities.

"The doctor will be through to see you soon," he tells me. "Make sure you’re ready for him. And not putting together the nursery."

With that, he turns on his heel and marches out, leaving me just as confused as when he first started speaking. I don’t know what the hell he’s getting at, what he’s trying to tell me. What does he mean, that I’m still early in my pregnancy? Is he telling me that something is going to happen before this child comes into the world? I clasp my hands to my belly, suddenly panicked, as though his words alone might have been enough to cause them harm.

I squeeze my eyes shut. You’re being ridiculous, Rose, I try to tell myself, but the atmosphere he left behind in the room is too heavy for me to ignore. I know that I have to contend with it, one way or another.

I might have to meet with the doctor later today, but there is someone else I’ll speak to as well—someone else who needs to hear just what Sergei said to me. Sergei might be banking on me hating Ilya too much to go to him, but when it comes to my baby, there is nothing I won’t do to keep them safe.

Chapter 20

Rose

"Well, everything looks good to me," Cillian remarks in his lilting Irish accent as he packs up his equipment and slips it back into the large leather bag he brought with him.

I straighten my dress, perched on the edge of the bed, and manage to give him a smile. I don’t want him to feel like I’m ungrateful for his efforts, though I can’t imagine he’s not being well-paid for them.

"Should anything change between now and my next visit, inform Ilya, and I’ll come back to check on you sooner," he continues. "But for the time being, it seems like you have nothing to worry about. Get plenty of rest, take plenty of fluids, and I’ll see you in two weeks."

"Thanks," I mutter, twisting my hands in my lap as I try to bring my mind back into the moment. Truth be told, as glad as I am that nothing is going on with the baby, there’s a part of me that can’t shake what happened with Sergei earlier today. I just need to find the time to meet with Ilya without making it obvious that I have suspicions about Sergei—and I don’t know how I can slip out of here without attracting attention.

Cillian nods his farewell from the doorway, which is flanked by two guards, one of whom glances at me for a moment before he pulls the door shut. I sigh, shoulders sagging, and stare down at a spot on the floor in front of me. I should be relieved that everything is as it should be, but instead all I can think about is what might happen if something goes wrong. Just like Sergei warned me.

I go to the bathroom to splash some water on my face, staring at myself in the mirror as my mind spins. I’ve been turning over what Sergei said to me, so many times now that his words seem to have lost all meaning. Because what if he was trying to warn me, trying to give me a way out before I’m locked in to the point of no return? He knows Ilya better than anyone, and he might be trying to give me a heads-up that things could go very wrong.

But the way he looked at me... that wasn’t the look of someone who wanted the best for me. And given everything else I’ve noticed about him since I’ve been here, it’s hard to believe there’s not more to it. If I’m going to be a parent, then I need to start trusting my instincts, and that begins right here, right now.

I head to the door, pushing it open as I plant my hands on my hips. I muster as much confidence as I can as I look between the two men standing outside. No doubt they have orders to keep me locked in here, but they have another thing coming.

"I need to speak to Ilya."

They exchange a glance, neither wanting to be the one who says no to me—and at the same time, neither wishing to be the guy who disturbs the boss.

"You need to rest," one of them tells me gruffly. "You heard what the doctor said."

"You were listening in on my private appointment?” I demand, narrowing my eyes at him pointedly. "What, I don’t get any privacy in this place?”

He grits his teeth, clearly irritated by my attitude.

"Ilya asked me to come to him with the news from the appointment as soon as it was done," I lie with as much certainty as I can. "I don’t want to keep him waiting. Do you?"

The other guard furrows his brow. I’m sure he is trying to calculate the chances of that being true.

"He said nothing to us about it,” the guard says.

"Well, he probably thought that you wouldn’t need to know," I reply, tossing my hair over one shoulder haughtily. "And he likely believed you wouldn’t have your damn ears pressed to the door to hear our private business."

That seems to get through to them. They clearly don’t want to bring his ire down on them if they can avoid it, and I doubt Ilya would take too kindly to the knowledge that they had overheard any part of my medical history.

"Fine," he grunts. "Come with me. I'll take you to his office."

"I’m perfectly capable of making it there by myself."