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“You already are.”
“Not if you don’t talk to me about the decisions you make concerning the two of us.”
“Did you talk to me when you faked your fucking death, Sasha?” My voice raises, and she goes still, her breath catching. “How would you feel if I did that, hmm?”
“I already said I’m sorry,” she murmurs, her fingers stroking my nape. “We both made mistakes, but we’re in new territory now. You have to give me time, please.”
Every cell in me revolts at the idea, but I know this is exactly what I need to do so we can have our new beginning.
“Fine, but you’re not meeting them without me.”
She rolls her eyes, but a smile paints her lips as she lays her head on my shoulder again. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me until we get this over with.”
She releases an affirmative sound. “Do we have to go back to the party?”
“Yes.”
“Ugh. But people will know that you fucked me.”
“I don’t give a fuck. In fact, it’s good they know you’re mine and off-limits.”
“Caveman.”
“Your caveman.”
“Mmm. I like that.” Her voice trails off, sounding sleepy. “Give me ten.”
I’m stroking her hair as she falls back against my chest when my phone vibrates.
The name on the screen makes me pause.
Boss. This is Makar. I’m sorry for disappearing, but I have to tell you that you’re in danger. Can we meet?
22
SASHA
“What are we doing here?” My gaze follows the patterns of the carpet in the waiting area of the in-house clinic.
Kirill brought me here first thing this morning after he kicked out Yulia. He told me about her posing a danger to Kristina’s pregnancy and that even Konstantin agreed to this.
It was so much drama. She refused to leave, and when Kirill ordered Viktor to remove her by force, she went ballistic. Since she couldn’t possibly hurt Kirill, she turned her malicious energy to Karina and tried to slap her.
Before anyone could stop her, I stood in front of a trembling Karina and pushed the woman away.
She’s now packing her things after Konstantin talked her out of whatever toxic plans she had.
I’m still uncomfortable with the exchange that took place this morning. I can almost see her venomous eyes glaring me down as if she wants me dead.
Today, I’d planned to spend time reading pregnancy books with Kristina—only from an e-reader, though, since I can’t be so obvious.
The most pressing question is—how long can I fool Kirill? Even though we’ve been fucking all the time, I try not to get completely naked. I’m scared he’ll notice how slightly bigger my breasts are or the bump in my stomach. It’s actually not as noticeable as Kristina’s and can be chalked up to gaining weight, but it’ll probably grow bigger.
And while I try to distract him so he doesn’t focus on my body for too long, that can’t last forever.
Kirill isn’t an idiot. He already senses that something is wrong. If I don’t tell him, he’ll eventually figure it out himself.
A part of me wants to say it. I even stopped myself from blurting it all out last night.
But the other part realizes that if I take this step, there’s no going back.
I’ll just be trapped in Kirill’s web with no way out and I’m not sure that’s where I want to be.
Especially since I’ve been trying to contact my uncle and haven’t been able to get through. The situation is muddied at best, and I’m at a crossroads where nothing makes sense.
Nothing but the baby.
I’ve been surprisingly elated since I found out about him. He’s the only thing I want with everything in me. The rest is blurry.
Okay, that’s a lie. I want Kirill, too. I want him to the point of madness, and I don’t only mean physically. I want his heart. I want to be so far inside him, he won’t be able to replace me.
But the wound is so raw; I don’t think I can ever throw caution to the wind this time.
Even when I was secretly happy when he introduced me to everyone as his wife.
And I don’t only mean his family, members of his staff, and the leaders of the brotherhood, but also his entire social circle.
He took me around the room with his hand on my lower back, saying, “Have you met my beautiful wife? She’s Russian.”
Yes, all the small talk was tiresome and I’m pretty sure he did it so everyone would know that I’m his and, therefore, off-limits, but I enjoyed every second of it.
Probably because I never dreamed that I’d be on his arm as a woman.
No, not on his arm.
His wife.
The only wife he’ll ever have.
“Kirill?” I step in front of him, so he stops walking.
He’s been ignoring my questions since we left the house. His expression is closed off, his eyes are more intense than those of an arctic wolf, and his jaw is set.
