19. Natalia

19

NATALIA

I'm gawking at Andrey.

Andrey is smirking at Byron.

Byron is bouncing his wide eyes from Andrey to me and back again.

It's the worst—and, just to be clear, only —threesome I've ever had. I would like to get off this ride immediately, please and thank you.

"Pregnant?" Byron stutters. "You're pregnant, Nat?"

Swallowing hard, I plaster a smile on my face. "Surprise."

"Jesus," Byron exhales. "That's… crazy."

"For you and me both." I duck out from under Andrey's grip, but not before pinching him under the arm. "Excuse me for a second while I walk Andrey out."

I march straight for the exit without waiting for Andrey to agree. To my surprise, he follows without complaint. The moment we're away from nosy coworkers and in the lobby, I twist around and stab a finger into Andrey's chest.

I was hoping this finger was the first point of pain in a devastating series of takedowns both verbal and physical that I was about to unleash on his ass. Unfortunately for me, his chest is so obnoxiously muscled that I hurt my poor finger and wince in pain.

"What the hell were you thinking?" I clear my throat and rephrase. "What happened to keeping my pregnancy under wraps?"

He doesn't look in the least bit apologetic. "I pivoted."

"Clearly! My question is, Why ?"

"You're already three months along," he says sensibly. "You're going to start showing soon. This was inevitable."

"So it had nothing to do with the fact that you were trying to mark your territory?"

He checks his watch like I'm wasting his time. "I'd have thought you would understand."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"What was her name… the pretty blonde in the red blouse?" He takes a step closer to me as my face goes blotchy with involuntary anger. "When it comes to marking territory, let's not beat around the bush: you're as guilty as I am."

Leonty is chuckling by the door and Marge has abandoned any attempt to pretend like she's not eavesdropping.

"Leave," I hiss in his face. "Now."

"I will—as soon as you let me go."

His eyes fall between us and I realize my hand is wrapped around his wrist. I drop it like it's on fire and spring away immediately.

Andrey winks. "Have a good day, lastochka ."

It takes a few seconds after he's gone before the angry blush on my cheeks finally fades. Feeling completely unmoored, I head back into the office, shrinking under the weight of the curious gazes aimed my way. Most of them stop at that—gawkers, nothing worse.

But not all my coworkers can take a hint.

"Oh my God! You're having a baby with him ?" Abby pops up from behind my desk like a Whack-A-Mole I would dearly love to smite with a hammer. "Where did you even meet a man like that?"

"I'm curious about that, too." I peek up to see that Byron has joined the inquisition.

"Guys, I'd love to chat, but I have so much work to do." I shuffle some papers around to make my point, but neither one shows any interest in leaving.

"No, but, c'mon…" Abby cajoles. "How'd you get your hooks in him?"

"There were no ‘hooks' involved. And we're not even together." I'm not sure why I choose to share that information with them—it doesn't exactly paint me in the best light—but I'm angry and it shoots out before I can think about it.

"You're not?" I don't like that glint in Abby's eyes at all.

To be fair, Byron has the same hopeful glint, albeit for different—and arguably worse—reasons. "How does that work?"

"Haven't you people ever heard of a one-night stand?" I ask. "You know what? Never mind. All I can say is, if you ever choose to have one, use protection."

Abby scoffs. "He's rich and gorgeous. You can bet your ass I'd be poking holes in that condom."

"Classy," I mutter.

She smiles salaciously. "So what I'm hearing is, he's single?"

I have the sudden urge to cold-cock Abby right in the head. I allow the fantasy to play out for a few short seconds before I force a nod. "Sure. Yeah. Something like that."

"Excellent!" She does a little shimmy that makes her breasts jiggle. "Hope he drops you off at work every day." Having got what she came for, Abby turns around and struts back to her desk.

"I have to admit…" Byron's voice cuts through another little fantasy I'm playing out in my head, this one involving Abby and the freshly loaded stapler on my desk. "I'm relieved, too."

"If you want Andrey, you'll have to fight Abby for him."

He ignores me. "It means I still have a chance with you."

He might as well have poured a glass of ice water down my back. "Erm, Byron… Did you miss the part about me being pregnant?" I remind him gently. "I'm having a baby with another man."

"But you're not with said man." He shrugs and backs away from my desk. "There's hope for me yet."

"No, there's not!"

"Just you wait and see," he promises with a devious chuckle. "I'm gonna wear you down."

I hide in my cubicle for the better part of the morning. Turns out, trying to avoid your coworkers can make for a productive day. I'm done with all my work by four and frothing at the mouth to get back to the secluded calm of the pool house.

I manage to duck past both Abby and Byron on my way out. Leonty is standing just outside the building when I step onto the pavement.

"Ready?" he asks.

"I've literally never been more ready in my entire cursed existence."

Chuckling, he opens the back door for me and I clamber inside the car. Olaf is in the passenger seat, but my other two bodyguards are nowhere in sight.

"Where's the rest of the band?"

"We're taking it in shifts," Leonty explains. "They're on night duty."

I roll my eyes. "Ridiculous."

"How was work?" Leonty asks as though he hasn't heard me.

"Fine. I mean—no, not fine. But at least it's over."

"If the tall guy's giving you any trouble, I can take care of it for you," he offers. I frown at Leonty in the rearview mirror, so he clarifies, "The douchey one in the pinstriped shirt."

"Byron?"

He shudders. "Even his name is douchey."

I cross my legs and turn to the window. "He's harmless."

"Not from where I was standing. He's interested in you."

I wave away his concern. "He's a flirt and sometimes, he goes a little overboard. He's actually pretty nice. And he's a decent boss."

"I'm sure."

"I don't like that tone."

Leonty shrugs innocently. "I'd be careful there, that's all I'm saying. Andrey's not gonna like your friend sniffing around."

I sit bolt upright in my seat. "Andrey can kiss my ass. I'm not his property. And I'm certainly not his girlfriend. He has no right to dictate who can or can't ‘sniff around' me."

Leonty and Oleg exchange a glance.

"What?" I demand. "What was that look?"

Oleg shifts nervously. Leonty, on the other hand, gives me a carefree smile over his shoulder. "You're new, so maybe you haven't caught on just yet: Andrey gets what Andrey wants. Always."

"Always," Oleg echoes.

"Yeah, well, mark today's date on your calendars," I declare. "We're making history."

They share another amused glance.

"Screw both of you!" I cry.

"Oh, don't get all touchy," Leonty implores. "I'm just calling it like I see it. Things will go easier if you just accept what's obvious to everyone else."

Despite my best efforts, I'm curious. "Okay, I'll bite. Tell me what's obvious to everyone else?"

"That, whether you want to admit it or not, Andrey's already got a hold on you."

I'm so rattled that I don't even respond. We spend the rest of the drive in silence. The moment we arrive at the manor, I unbuckle myself and streak out of the Escalade.

To my ongoing frustration, not even the peace and solitude of the pool house calms me.

I tear off my clothes and run myself a bath, hoping to drown the chorus of voices in my head.

So what you're saying is, he's single?

Andrey's already got a hold on you.

You're mine, lastochka . You just haven't accepted it yet.

And under all these fresh memories, under all these confused emotions, a tiny drop of doubt creeps in, tremulous and unbidden.

Do I have feelings for Andrey?

There's no doubt I'm attracted to him. He's handsome and confident. He has a fearlessness about him that I find incredibly hard to resist. It's the whole reason I talked myself into sleeping with him that night.

But attraction doesn't equal affection. Lust doesn't equal love.

I'm tempted to give myself a little release. But the only face circulating in my head right now is Andrey's, and I refuse to masturbate while thinking of him. He's already dictated too much in my life; he doesn't get to invade my fantasies, too.

It's with a sinking sense of failure that I pull the plug on my bath and climb out of the tub. Wrapped in a fluffy bathrobe, I walk into the living room, only to discover Yelena setting out pasties on the coffee table.

"You're like my fairy godmother, Yelena," I sigh. "You always seem to appear when I need you most."

She laughs. "That's the mark of a good housekeeper."

"Why do I get the feeling you're so much more than just a housekeeper?" Sitting down on one of the cushy armchairs, I gesture for her to sit, too. "Join me, please. I can't eat all these pastries alone."

To my surprise, she doesn't protest. She takes the sofa and helps herself to a danish.

I spend the next few minutes of quiet chewing, debating whether or not I should pry into Andrey's life or not. Why the hell not? He's pried into my life plenty.

"So how long have you worked for Andrey?"

"A very long time," she replies. "Truth be told, I can't remember what I did with my life before."

"So you know him pretty well then?"

She shrugs. "As well as an employee can know her employer."

She's downplaying it, but I'm willing to bet anything that someone as sharp as Yelena has noticed a lot in her time in the manor.

"Does Andrey have someone… special in his life?"

She stiffens so slightly that I almost miss it. "I'm not in the habit of discussing Mr. Kuznetsov's personal life."

Her refusal is polite but firm. But in the end, it doesn't really matter that she hasn't given me a direct answer. Her reaction is answer enough.