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Bad person.
“I’d recommend weekly visits to the hospital for precautionary examinations. At least until we can bring your blood pressure down and determine that you and the baby are completely out of danger.”
I look at Kirill hopefully, praying he decides to take pity on me and keep this between us. But his eyes are fixed firmly on the doctor.
I know that look. It never ends well for me.
“Can we determine the cause of the high blood pressure, Doc?”
“Our last exam was two weeks ago. Given that Emma has shown no sign of preeclampsia and no prior history of high blood pressure, it seems to me that this is stress-related.” He turns his gaze on me. “Have you been under any undue stress lately, Emma?”
I double-down on the cringe. “Well…”
The doctor seems to take that as confirmation. He gives me an understanding nod and pats my arm. “Pregnancy is hard enough as it is. Add social and familial pressures and it becomes exponentially harder. Emma, my dear, you need to do whatever it takes to reduce the amount of stress in your life. For your sake and the baby’s alike.”
I swallow hard, keenly aware of my heart throwing a fit inside my chest. Ironically, all this information is really not helping my blood pressure.
“Let me schedule another appointment for you early next week,” Dr. Owens concludes. “Until then, drink lots of water, meditate, and try to rest as much as you can.”
Kirill takes over from there. “Thanks, Doc. Let me show you out.”
He’s about to follow Dr. Owens out the door when I stop him. “Kirill!” He turns reluctantly, no doubt because he knows exactly what I’m trying to ask him. “Please?”
He shakes his head. “Just rest, okay?”
Then he shuts the door and I sink into the bed, wondering how my life went so wrong, so fast.
26
RUSLAN
TAP, TAP, TAP…
Vadim has been tapping his way through this entire damn meeting and I’m about to explode on his ass if he doesn’t stop right fucking now.
“Is there something wrong with your finger, Uncle, or is there something you want to say?”
The tapping stops.
Thank fucking God.
Then he starts to talk instead and I immediately regret my choice to speak up.
“I am concerned, nephew.”
No shit. We’re all fucking concerned.Of course, some of us are more concerned than others. Fyodor, for example, looks like he’d rather be in his gardens, tending to his roses and his chrysanthemums. If there ever comes a day when I’m more interested in begonias than business, I’m just gonna have Kirill put a bullet in the back of my head and call it a day.
“There’s reason to be,” I agree. “My orders weren’t followed the night of the launch. And it’s notmymen that did it.”
Vadim’s eyebrows rise. “Is there someone you’re accusing?”
I lean over my folded arms. “Let’s review the facts: Sergey is missing and Venera samples were tampered with the night of the launch. Both those facts suggest that this is an inside job.”
Vadim’s eyebrows peak higher. “Are you trying to accuse someone in this room?”
The moment he speaks, everyone in the boardroom stiffens—with the exception of my father, who still looks like he’s barely paying attention. My gaze flickers over the three other men present today.
Mikkeli Petrov—one of the chemists that helped Sergey develop Venera.
