21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

Aleksandr

Olga sat in a chair next to the bed, watching over Talia. She had her prayer book open, mouthing prayers silently in Russian.

"How is she?" I inquired, peering at Talia resting in the king-size bed.

"She opened her eyes once but then closed them again."

"Go take care of the children. I'll sit with her for a while."

Nodding, Olga patted Talia gently on the hand and then left to take care of Sasha and Maxim.

I sat in the chair for an hour, consumed with thoughts of Talia being pregnant and fuming with the need to exact revenge on the person who dared to harm her. Stretching my legs out in front of me, I stood up and began walking slowly around the room.

Talia slowly regained consciousness, her delicate features softening into awareness. Her eyes fluttered open, a mixture of confusion and fear swirling within them. Standing beside the bed, my gaze stayed steady upon her.

"Where… where am I?" Her voice was barely a whisper, raspy from sleep.

"You're safe," I replied evenly. "You're in my home."

Recognition flickered across her face, followed swiftly by alarm. Clutching her belly, she tried to sit up, then flinched in pain from her shoulder wound.

"Wait a minute, dushenka . Not so fast." I gently guided her back onto the bed, placing my hand on her arm.

"What happened?" she asked, studying the sling on her arm.

"You were shot in the shoulder. My personal doctor took care of you. She removed the bullet and stitched you up."

"Your doctor examined me?" she asked cautiously.

"Yes," I said, choosing my next words carefully. "She mentioned that you're pregnant." I watched her closely, waiting to see her reaction. "Did you know?"

She stared down at her lap and nodded.

"When did you find out?" My tone was a mix of accusation and frustration.

"When…when I was still in San Franciso." She refused to look at me and continued to stare at her lap.

I leaned forward slightly, my voice low and intense. "Who is the father?"

Talia hesitated, biting her lip nervously before meeting my gaze. "You're the father."

The revelation hit me like a truck. "Is that why you came to New York? To trap me? To force me into a relationship with you?"

"No!" she protested, her voice cracking.

"You've known all along you were pregnant. And you said nothing?" I spit through gritted teeth.

Tears welled in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall.

"Why are you here? Tell me!" I demand, my fists clenched.

Fear shadowed her features, but she met my eyes defiantly. "I'm here because I had to get away from Danny. He's dangerous, and I feared what he might do."

"Or maybe you're running from him because he's the father of this baby?" I scoff, unable to hide the bitterness in my tone.

"That's not true! I ran from him because he was stalking me! He confronted me at the hotel and then trashed my apartment!" A single tear ran down her cheek as she choked back a sob. " You're the father, Aleksandr."

Emotions I couldn't name surged within me, mingling with fear and fierce protectiveness. If this is true, she is carrying my heir. "What do you want from me?!" I exploded, my control slipping.

Talia's eyes flashed with hurt. "I don't want anything from you. I came here to start over, to get away from Danny. Sandy and I don't need anything from you or anyone else." She turned away from me, focusing on a nonexistent spot on the wall.

"But you'll get it," I retorted, my temper flaring. "You say you're carrying my child. That makes you my responsibility."

Her resolve hardened. "I will raise this child on my own," she stated, her chin lifting defiantly.

The mere thought ignited a fierce possessiveness within me. "If this child is mine," I declared, "you will never leave this mansion. You belong to me now."

Talia's shoulders sagged, and her lip trembled. "I want to call Sandy."

"What you want is none of my concern."

I stormed out of the room, the weight of my conflicting emotions bearing down on me. Talia's words echoed in my mind as I paced the hallway, my fists clenched in frustration. I was bound by duty and the responsibilities of my position within the Bratva. Consumed by a tumultuous storm of desire and duty, I struggled with the realization that despite my resolve, I could not let her go. I wouldn't let her go, not just because she was carrying my heir.

Alone in the room, Talia crumbled. Tears stained her cheeks as she realized the enormity of her predicament. She had sought refuge in New York but was entangled in a new web of complications.

The smoke from Dimitri's cigarette curled upwards, mingling with the heavy air in my office. I leaned back in my chair, watching him closely as I delivered the news.

" Brat, " I began, my voice low and controlled, "Talia is pregnant."

His eyes widened for a fraction of a second before his expression hardened, the gears turning behind his sharp gaze. "Pregnant?" he echoed, his tone laced with surprise and concern.

"Yes," I affirmed, my mind already examining the implications. "She says I'm the father."

Dimitri's brow furrowed as he absorbed this revelation. Talia, the woman I couldn't shake from my thoughts, now carried my child. The weight of it settled heavily in the room.

"What about Boris?" I continued, shifting the focus to our pressing concerns. "Did he pull the street surveillance footage?"

" Da ," Dimitri confirmed, leaning forward on his elbows, his demeanor serious. "We're sifting through it, looking for leads."

"Good," I said, a flicker of ruthless determination crossing my features. "I want to know who orchestrated the attack. And I want to know who pulled the trigger."

Dimitri hesitated, his gaze lingering on me thoughtfully. "Aleksandr, there's more to this than revenge," he ventured cautiously.

I scoffed, dismissing his words. "There's only one thing on my mind right now—the safety of Talia and my child."

He shook his head, the smoke from his cigarette swirling around him like a ghostly shroud. "What about your feelings for her?"

I waved my hand dismissively, my jaw tensing. "Feelings are a luxury I can't afford."

Dimitri's eyes narrowed, but he didn't press further. Instead, he nodded once, acknowledging my resolve.

Resting my elbows on the desk, I lowered my voice. "I want Dr. Daria to perform a paternity test," I stated firmly. "I need to know for sure if this child is mine, if this is my heir."

Dimitri studied me for a moment, his expression unreadable. "Are you sure about this, brat ?" he questioned.

"I'm sure," I replied, my voice steady.

Dimitri stood, his cigarette now a stub in the ashtray. "I'll arrange it," he said quietly, his gaze lingering on me momentarily.

As he left the room, I thought about Otets and the fierce loyalty to his family that got him killed. The Bratva had rules-rules I'd bent before-but this was different. This wasn't about Aleksandr, pakhan of the Avilov Bratva. This was personal. Whoever killed Mikhail tried to kill Talia, and I will stop at nothing to protect what was mine.