Chapter 30

Dalia

I sit in a hospital room, feeling the sterile chill more than ever as doctors prepare to check for my baby's heartbeat.

I'm a bundle of nerves, desperately wishing Lev was here holding my hand.

The doctor and nurse start setting up the equipment for the ultrasound, trying to offer comforting smiles throughout the process.

Every second that ticks by feels like an hour as they move the ultrasound wand over my stomach. The cool gel on my skin and the soft hum of the machine are the only sounds before the room finally fills with the quick, rhythmic beat of the baby’s heart. I hold my breath, my own heart caught in my throat.

Tears start streaming down my cheeks as I hear the steady, strong heartbeat of my baby echoing through the room.

The doctor gives me a reassuring smile. "Everything sounds great with the heartbeat. It looks like the smoke and stress didn't affect your little one at all. And you’re measuring right around eight weeks."

I'm so overwhelmed with relief that my mind goes a bit fuzzy with gratitude. “Thank you.”

"We want to make sure everything else is okay while you're here. If all's well, you'll be free to go soon," the doctor tells me.

They start by checking my lungs for any smoke damage. I feel the cold metal of the stethoscope as they press it against my back and chest, asking me to take deep breaths. Each inhale and exhale feels like a triumph.

Next, they look over my skin for any burns or signs of irritation that might've come from the heat or smoke. They're super thorough, making sure they don’t miss anything that could cause trouble later on.

As they perform the exam, my mind can't stop replaying the day's scary moments—smoke filling the church, everyone scrambling, the doors jammed shut. I shiver thinking about how close it all came to turning into a tragedy.

I try to shake off the fear, focusing instead on the here and now, especially that little heartbeat that’s still going strong, reassuring me that life keeps ticking on, no matter what.

The doctor wraps up his checkup, giving me a clean bill of health, at least physically.“Why don’t you lie back and relax for a bit. Let the IV run through and make sure you’re good and hydrated.”

I nod and thank him as he walks out of the room.

I automatically rest my hand on my belly, a huge sigh of relief escaping me knowing my little one is safe. But the silence soon lets my mind wander back to the fire, to the thick smoke that seemed to swallow everything in sight.

My thoughts start to spin out worse and worse scenarios. I imagine us all trapped, the doors locked tight, the fire closing in.

Sitting here alone, those terrifying images just won’t stop replaying in my head, and all I can think about is keeping my baby safe. The more I think about it, the more it feels like my life with Lev, despite all his efforts, is like balancing on a knife’s edge.

It’s not just the scare today that’s got me so shaken; it’s realizing how often danger seems to lurk around us. Being with Lev, in his world, comes with real risks, and now that I’m going to be a mom, those risks feel a thousand times more significant.

The fear is eating away at me, building with every moment I sit here alone, making me wonder if our future together is just one big, dangerous gamble.

I love Lev, I really do, and I know he’d do anything to protect us. But it’s starting to feel like the only sure way to stay safe is to put as much distance between us as possible.

It’s a heartbreaking thought, but with each attack, it feels more and more like it’s only a matter of time before one of them succeeds. I can’t let that happen. I need to get out, and I need to do it now, before Lev gets here.

Just then, my phone lights up with a text from him.

On my way .

My heart sinks as I start to formulate a plan. Across the hall, I notice a staff room. I spot some scrubs and a few pairs of Crocs on the shelves. I keep my eyes on the door, waiting for the last person to leave. As soon as they do, I pull the IV from my arm and make my move.

I slip inside, quickly grabbing a pair of scrubs and Crocs in my size before darting into the bathroom to change.

Dressed in my new clothes, I take a deep breath, steeling myself. Then, I quietly slip out of the bathroom and dart back into the room, quickly grabbing my purse and rifling through it to pull out just my wallet and phone. My hands shake a little as I quickly disable the tracking on my phone. I can't risk Lev, or anyone else for that matter, following me right now. I call an Uber, my heart pounding as I realize I could run into Lev at any moment.

Keeping my head down, I weave through the crowded ER, my nerves on edge, every face I pass making me jumpy. I just need to make it out the door without being seen.

A notification buzzes—my Uber is outside. As I make my way to the exit I spot Lev walking in. My breath catches in my throat as he scans the ER. For a split second, our paths almost align, but he doesn’t notice me in the scrubs.

My heart aches as I see him, a part of me screaming to run to him, to explain everything about how I’m feeling. But the stronger part knows this is the right thing to do, for the safety of our child.

With a heavy heart, I slip out the door, the cool air hitting my face as I spot the Uber. I hurry over and slide into the back seat. As the car pulls away, I allow myself a moment to look back. Lev is inside, and I'm out here, forging into the unknown.

As the hospital fades into the distance, I'm gripped by determination. I'm not sure what comes next, but I know I have to keep moving forward—for my baby's sake and mine.

Hours later, I’m tucked away in the corner of a dimly lit, upscale restaurant I've never set foot in before.

In my hand, I clutch the card Alexei gave me, my fingers brushing over the embossed letters nervously. I’m waiting for him to show up, and every second he’s late cranks up my anxiety a notch.

My phone buzzes—a call from Lev. I let it go to voicemail, adding to the growing list of messages I haven't had the heart to listen to yet. It's been six hours since I slipped away from Lev and everything I knew. Now I'm down to the last bits of cash, the rest used to buy some nondescript clothes to replace the scrubs.

I'm utterly lost, with no clear plan, sitting here spending what little money I have on a meal I can't even enjoy. Alexei had texted to say he'd be running late and told me to order whatever I wanted, but my appetite is gone. I pick at the food, my stomach tight with nerves and guilt.

What am I going to do? The question whirls in my mind relentlessly. I left everything behind for the safety of my baby, stepping into uncertainty with nowhere to turn but to a man I barely know and can't fully trust.

As I wait for Alexei, I wonder if I've jumped out of the frying pan and into the fire.

Finally, he arrives. He's dressed in a sleek suit that fits his frame perfectly.

He approaches with a smooth confidence, greeting me with a gentlemanly kiss on the hand that feels more ceremonial than intimate. I don't sense any ulterior motives in his gesture. He slides into the seat across from me and signals the waiter to bring him a glass of wine.

"Eat up," he urges me gently, and oddly enough, his encouragement nudges my appetite back to life.

"I heard about the church, that’s some nasty business." He pauses, giving me a moment. "Are you okay?"

"Physically, yes," I admit. "But everything else is a shitshow and that’s why I’m here."

As I say it, the reality of my situation sinks in even deeper. I'm here, sitting with a man who might just be as dangerous as the situation I fled, looking for protection and answers, or maybe just a moment to catch my breath.

His wine arrives just as he's settling into the conversation, but Alexei barely gives it a glance, his focus entirely on me. He gestures slightly with his hand, encouraging me to continue.

"Go on," he prompts gently. “Tell me what happened.”

I take a deep breath, the words feeling both liberating and terrifying as they leave my lips.

"I left Lev, at least for now. Truthfully, I don't know what I'm going to do."

The admission hangs between us, heavy and real.

He nods slowly, his expression serious. "Someone clearly has it out for the Ivanov family," he says, his tone grave. “Targeting a church filled with women and children is the coward’s way of doing things.”

There's a hardness in his eyes that suggests he's no stranger to violence, yet there seems to be genuine anger in his voice.

Part of me is wary, wondering if I can really trust him, but his reaction seems sincere. I find myself continuing, drawn in by his apparent sympathy for my situation.

"I'm just not sure I'm safe with Lev anymore."

He nods again, his gaze meeting mine with a depth that surprises me. "I understand," he says simply. There’s an odd reassurance in his words that makes me feel slightly more at ease, at least for the moment.

Alexei finally takes a moment to sip his wine, his gaze wandering as he ponders our conversation. After a thoughtful pause, he refocuses on me, his eyes serious.

"This is a very complicated situation," he begins, setting down his glass. "I just reached a truce with Lev and the Ivanovs. It wouldn't be right for me to take you in without giving him a heads-up."

"Yeah, it's definitely a tough scenario," I agree, the reality of it all feeling increasingly heavy.

Then a strange look comes over Alexei’s face.

“There’s more, Dalia,” he says.

“More what?”

“More. The Ivanovs and I have a history they are unaware of.”

“What do you mean?”

He taps his fingers on the table, as if debating whether or not to tell me.

Then he shakes his head. “No. Not now. There’s too much to take care of before I even begin unpacking all of that.” He turns to me, intensity flashing in his eyes. "First things first, you need to be protected. I have a safehouse here in the city. It's an apartment I set up for emergencies, secure as a bank vault. We can head there and you can settle in to think things through. Then we'll figure out what to do next."

Alexei looks around the restaurant, a hint of urgency in his eyes before turning back to me. "I hate to rush you, but we should probably get going soon," he says. "Don't worry, there's plenty of food at the safehouse. Plus, I've got a doctor on standby just in case you need anything for the baby."

"Thanks," I manage to say.

"Anytime," he replies with a smile, dropping a couple of hundreds on the table as we get up to leave. I'm still on edge about trusting Alexei completely, but he hasn't done anything yet to make me doubt his intentions.

We head out to the parking lot and walk toward his sleek black car. It's starting to get dark, and a knot of anxiety tightens in my stomach.

Suddenly, a voice cuts through the evening air. "Hey!"

We both whip around. A guy dressed all in black, wearing a face mask, is standing right behind us. He wastes no time pulling out a gun and firing at Alexei.

The sound of the shot reverberates sharply in the quiet lot. Alexei groans and drops to the ground.

I let out a scream, frozen in shock for a split second. But before I can do anything, the masked man turns the gun on me. I feel the coldness of the weapon slam against my forehead before everything goes dark.