AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Every great king needs an heir, I reason.He needs someone to pass the crown to. I’ll give him that. If he wants it.
A few minutes later, I check the sticks on the counter.
Positive. Across the board.
I pass with flying fucking colors.
My heart shudders when I hear the screen door slap shut. The front doorthudsright after and lures me into the hallway, where I expect to see Jonas walking in. Maybe he went out to grab breakfast. Maybe he’s just getting back from a binge. I hate it when he disappears, but I know it’s just part of his mysterious charm.
He thinks a lot. Most great leaders do.
Disappointment pinches my throat when I see my father plop onto the couch.
“Hey, where’s Jonas?” I ask, trying to hide the shiver in my voice. “I, uh…I haven’t seen him since yesterday.”
My father’s eyes gloss over. “Jonas is dead.”
I step back. “W-what?”
“He showed up unannounced to his sister’s baby shower. She didn’t like that.” He curls his fingers into a gun and pulls the trigger. “Right at her baby shower.”
“No.”
He sighs while dropping his hand on his lap. “I’m sorry, Zoyechka.”
A desert blooms to life inside my throat. “He…He was just…”
I scramble for something—anything—to keep myself from hitting the ground. I grab the table next to me first and then stumble toward the ratty recliner, plopping into it with the same defeated slump as my father. The hinges squeak. I think I squeak too.
The scent of a knockoff pharmacy cologne curls up from the cushions. That’s Jonas. That’s his scent. And it’s the last thing I’ll ever have of him.
I slide my hand over my stomach.Except…
“I’m pregnant,” I blurt. “I just…” I lick my lips repeatedly. “I’m pregnant, Papa.”
My father sighs. “Zoyechka.”
I cringe. I know what’s coming next.
“These are the consequences of your actions. I told you to stop whoring it up.”
He knows I hate that phrase.
“This is what I was trying to protect you from,” he continues. “If you had just listened to me and kept your legs closed, then you wouldn’t have wasted your time.”
I clear my throat, fighting to speak, to do something other than sitting here in shock. But it’s too much effort. My fingers curl into my stomach as gently as possible.
My father shakes his head. “Sleeping with Jonas and keeping him here… What were you thinking?”
I close my eyes. I don’t need this right now.
But he persists: “Now there’s a target on your back.” He grunts. “This child—” He points to my stomach. “This result of your carelessness now has a claim to the Citta Nostra.”
“I know that.” Jonas tells me thisall the time.
“You don’t know, Zoyechka.” His features twist with anger. “Because if youdidknow, you’d get rid of it before it gets you killed—or worse.”
I press myself as far into the chair as possible. A fresh round of nausea rolls right through me. I pinch my lips together, willing it to go away.
