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The back of my neck prickles as I check inside my underwear. Still no sign of my period.
I’m probably just late.
I try to distract myself by taking the tags off the sweaters and skirt that I just purchased, but my mind won’t change track.Pregnant?It keeps clamoring at me.
Am I pregnant?
I stare blankly out the window, running a cashmere sleeve through my fingers, imagining cuddling a baby of my own just like I’ve held so many of my brothers and sisters, but this one’s different because it’s mine. I couldn’t make a decision in Doctor Nader’s office. I had to leave it up to fate, and now I have my answer. My emotions are unambiguous.
Disappointed when I got my period.
Elated now I might have missed one.
Finally, I can’t stand it any longer and grab my handbag and car keys. Ten minutes later, I’m back in my bathroom with a pregnancy test and I’m peeing on a stick.
I pace up and down the small space while I wait the several minutes it takes for the test to develop. If I am pregnant, my life is going to change. I’ll have to sacrifice a lot of time and sleep to look after a baby, but nothing is a sacrifice when it’s done for love. I touch my stomach and think,If you’re there, I already love you.
I remember what Kristian said at Lana’s birthday, about craving to look at a Belyaev and see some of his own features, his own mannerisms and personality.
Kristian already loves you, too.
But there are things I’m just not willing to give up. My place in this family, for one. My work, for another. I’m meant to represent my father among the members of the Bratva in the city. They already struggle to take a woman seriously, and I wonder how they’ll treat a pregnant woman.
With Kristian by my side ferociously protecting me, and by continuing to prove I’m more than capable of running the family business, the Bratva families of this city won’t dare mock me. Will they?
Kristian will back me up, won’t he?
Or will he just take over and expect me to stay at home?
Will he be furious when he hears how this happened?
And how is Dad going to take the news?
There are so many unanswered questions, but there’s one I can answer right this moment. I flip the test over.
Tears fill my eyes. A smile breaks over my face, and I feel a great rush of happiness. For a few minutes, I ride a wave of pure bliss.
It dims as all my responsibilities come flooding back. I take a deep breath and stare at my reflection in the mirror. I’m going to have to come clean to Dad about everything I’ve done.
I’ll have to come clean to Kristian as well.
And I’m not sure who’s going to be angrier.
13
Troian
Crumpled pajamas. Hands and inner elbows bruised from hypodermic needles. A scuffed oxygen tank. Never-ending fucking pills to swallow. The trappings of a slow death are banal and ugly.
I wish I’d gone out in a blaze of glory, something violent and spectacular that would tinge the men of the Bratva’s faces with awe. A shoot-out with the feds. A high-speed car chase ending in a fireball.
But I was never the glamorous one. That was always my brother Kristian.
It’s the middle of the afternoon and there are noises from down the hall. Zenya was out at the Silo, but perhaps she’s come home early.
I slide my wasted legs out of bed, grasp the handle on my oxygen tank, and heave myself up off the mattress. I’ll greet my daughter on my own two feet for as long as I’m able, and I’m not dead yet.
There’s a smile on my face as I shuffle along with my oxygen tank. Making Zenya my heir two years ago was the right thing to do. She has a strong and steady nature like me, and she understands duty, unlike someone I could mention in this family. Not once has Zenya ever complained to me about anything or argued with me merely to hear the sound of her own voice. She’s a good, dependable girl, and she’s growing into a strong, young woman. I’m proud of her, and I should tell her that more often. I’ll tell her right now, just because I can. I don’t have time to waste anymore.
