Page 1 of Savage Little War

1

Cara

I’m filled with a tidal wave of relief when I finally hear Dmitri return around three in the morning.

When he told me that he had to go investigate a casino on fire, dread churned in my stomach. All I could think about was something going wrong and losing him.

The love of my life.

The father of my baby.

I take a deep breath as my hand rests on my stomach, my eyes staring up at the ceiling above me as I lay in bed.

I can’t sleep. How can I after what I just found out?

Of course, a part of me knew deep down that I was pregnant, but the test confirmed it. I’m carrying Dmitri’s child, and I need to tell him. Now that I know, I can’t bring myself to hide the truth from him.

But my stomach still twists with nervousness at the thought.

What if he gets angry? What if he doesn’t even want children? What if this breaks us apart?

Dmitri should know, even if that means the end of us. If I have to, I’ll just have to do this alone.

Then another scarier thought occurs to me, the thought that really guts me: what if what they did to me cost us the baby?

When the early morning sunlight finally streams through the windows of the penthouse and I hear Dmitri making coffee in the kitchen, I get out of bed and wrap my silky robe around me. There’s no point in waiting any longer.

I walk out of the bedroom and down the hallway, my bare feet quietly moving over the polished wood.

Dmitri still hears me and looks over his shoulder when I walk into the living room. “Did I wake you?”

I shake my head. “I couldn’t sleep.”

Dmitri frowns. “I’m sorry. I’ll make you a cup of coffee.”

“No, thank you,” I tell him. My stomach turns at the smell, which is…new.

Dmitri’s brow furrows in confusion, but he nods and fixes his own cup of coffee. “The casino was destroyed last night.”

“I’m sorry,” I say as I slowly move around the kitchen island toward him.

Dmitri shakes his head as he stirs sugar into his coffee. “Wasn’t my loss, but it seems more and more like someone is waging war against the Bratva.”

“The Italians?”

“Maybe it wasn’t only Italians,” Dmitri says. “You’re sure you heard other accents?”

“I can’t place them, but they didn’t all sound like Italians,” I tell him.

Dmitri hums under his breath in thought. “I’ll probably call Andrei today and see if we can find any more information on what happened last night. Maybe we’ll find a lead.”

He doesn’t sound all that confident.

“Dmitri…” My throat tightens. “I need to tell you something.”

Dmitri’s eyes meet mine. “What is it, milaya?”

I lose my voice as I stare at him, tension winding around my throat. God, why can’t I just say it?