Page 35 of Baby for the Bratva King

I feel sick to my stomach, the coffee turning sour on my tongue.

I rise from the couch, taking off.

“Not a fan of philanthropists either?” I hear Felix say behind me.

“Not particularly." I turn around to meet his gaze, his eyes already there waiting for me. “I should get started with work,” I say, swallowing the lump in my throat.

I rush upstairs, exhaling a steadying breath. My hands are clammy, a hot sweat beading down my forehead. By the time I reach the top of the stairs, I’m extremely out of breath. I hold onto the banister for support, feeling myself choke up. Tears prick my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. Not here. Not when Felix is home.

I shut myself away in the guest bedroom, pulling out my phone to give Fleur a call.

She answers on the first ring.

“Yeah, I know,” she groans down the receiving end. “Hard watch.”

“It’s not fair.”

Silence drifts between us as Fleur ponders something. “Why are you bothered again?”

“What?”

“You were doing well before, tuning him out of your life, avoiding the news.”

“Felix turned the TV on.”

Another silence extends between us. “Oh. I get it. He’s the trigger.”

“He’s not anything.”

“He’s everything, Saskia. You lost your virginity to a man who exudes the same characteristics as father, and now you’re terrified of falling into the same trap.”

“I feel like a leach. I’m relying on his money.”

“And he needs you. Unbothered, stoic Felix Pozharsky finally caused a scene. Perhaps you should ask yourself why.”

“He’s jealous.”

“And why do people get jealous?”

“Because they care.”

“Exactly,” says Fleur. “Which means Felix is nothing like our father.”

That eases some of the tension in my chest, but not all of it. “People need to know the truth, Fleur.”

“And they will when the time is right,” she reassures me. “The truth always comes out in the end. Father will fall. We just have to trust in the universe.”

“The universe is taking its damn time.”

“The best things in life always take time.” She pauses. “Want to know what’s very time-sensitive?”

“What?”

“Emergency contraception. Why is it still on the kitchen countertop?”

“I forgot to take it,” I cringe, curling my legs up onto the bed. “My head is all over the place.”

“I know, I can tell. We need to get you on a pole, and fast.”