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Liza disappears into the bathroom and comes back with the three sticks. Her expression is unreadable as she examines each test, a master poker player holding all the cards close to her chest.
The silence stretches until she finally turns to me, her eyes softening. “Three out of three pregnancy tests confirm you're pregnant."
My heart stalls, then races. It's joy, fear, a wild concoction of “what ifs” and “now whats”. I take the tests from her, my hands trembling as I see the positive results for myself. Each little plus sign is a monumental shift in the life I've known.
I'm going to be a mother. And Maxim is going to be a father, whether he likes it or not.
Liza and I spend the next hour talking about what’s next, but ultimately, I know there’s only one thing to do. I need to call Maxim and tell him I’m carrying his baby, that I want to have it and raise it with him.
Because I fucking love him.
The timing sucks, but I honestly can’t wait. I’ll lose my shit if I can’t speak to him tonight. I’m sure Maxim would want me to reach out to him, especially with all these crazy emotions banging around inside of me.
As soon as I say goodnight to Liza, I go back to my room and try to find the number to reach Maxim. He told me earlier that he won’t have his regular cell on him, only a satellite phone, and he provided me with the number. I look in my clutch, but I can’t find it there. I go to the closet and rifle through the pockets of my coat but come up empty.
Seriously?! I’ve somehow misplaced it in the craziness of tonight.
Nadya, of course, will have it.Great. Time to hunt down the witch.
I scour the mansion, my footsteps echoing in the empty corridors. Nadya’s office is dark, the door slightly ajar—a sign she’s not there. I try her room next, knocking softly at first then louder. No answer. Frustration mounts as I check the usual haunts: the kitchen, the back office, even the bloody laundry room. Nothing.
Frustrated, I trudge back to our bedroom. I’m halfway up the stairs when I hear a loud noise—is that an explosion?—coming from the east end of the property.
A chill runs down my spine, my heart pounding as my palms grow clammy, gripping the railing for support. Downstairs, the shouts of guards and hurried footsteps amplify my fear.
What’s happening? Are we under attack?
Terrifying possibilities occur to me as I rush up the stairs, entering my bedroom and locking the door behind me. I lean against it as I try to catch my breath, but when I raise my eyes, an unexpected sight greets me.
Nadya stands there, a coldness in her eyes that chills me to the bone.
“What are you doing here?” I ask her.
She jabs a finger towards the pregnancy tests on the nightstand. "This was not part of the plan," she spits out. "You were supposed to be on your way out, not pregnant with Maxim’s child. You stupid girl. You've gone and ruined everything … again.”
Confusion pins me to the spot, and for a moment, I'm speechless.
She's angry that I'm pregnant?
"Let's talk about this." I try to keep my voice calm to not provoke her since she’s clearly not in her right mind. "I don'tknow what the issue is, but if you tell me, we can work through it."
It's too late for talk because when I look up, she has a gun pointed at my chest.
My heart thunders, my newfound maternal instinct roaring to life as my hands go to my still-flat stomach.
"I'm not discussing anything with you. Here is what's going to happen: you're not going to scream or cry; you're going to walk calmly through the house towards the west entrance and into the waiting car. I'll be right behind you. Make one wrong move, and I won't hesitate to use this." She waves the gun, her eyes drilling into mine.
“The property is under attack,” I point out, a cold sweat coating my back.
Her smile is ugly. “That was my handiwork. Couldn’t have the guards getting in my way, could I? They’ll be occupied for the next little while, so don’t try anything stupid.”
My heart drops to my stomach. She’s truly lost her mind, or maybe she was always unhinged. Either way, I underestimated what Nadya is capable of. She’s not only protective of Maxim—she's obsessed with him. And soon, I’m going to learn how far she’s willing to go.
I choose my next words carefully, hoping to appeal to her sense of devotion to Maxim. "I know we haven't always seen eye to eye, but I promise you that whatever happens, you won't lose your place by Maxim’s side. He doesn't know about this baby, and I'm not sure how he'll react ... but I know he'd never want to lose you."
"Shut up. I’m not interested in your opinion." She stuffs the pregnancy tests into her pocket, but she only has two.
That's because I have the third one. I kept it on me to stare at it whenever disbelief set in.
