Chapter 19 - Arina

I turn away from Igor in bed as my stomach cramps, and I feel a wave of nausea hit me. This is the third morning in a row that I've felt sick. I feel shuffling beside me and turn my head to see Igor turning off his alarm.

"Come back to bed," I groan. "I feel like I'm dying."

"You're not dying," Igor says gently, crawling over and kissing my neck. "But stay home anyway. Relax in bed. You've worked so hard this week and pulled off so many amazing things. You deserve a break."

He kisses my forehead, gets off the bed, and goes to the bathroom.

I curl up in a ball and hug my pillow, listening to the sound of the shower running. Following the nausea comes heartburn, and I can't stand that, so I sit up and take over-the-counter tablets I got to quell it.

Igor walks through the room with nothing but a towel around his waist, and I smile as I watch him. He catches me smiling and smiles back. "Do you have time…"

"No, I feel far too sick to…" I say, pulling a face. "But a girl can dream."

I walk to the bathroom to brush my teeth and get dressed. I'll take the day off, but maybe I'll go shopping with Yvonne or something.

Once I'm dressed, I walk downstairs and into the dining hall, where Yvonne and Igor are seated—no sign of Matvey.

I eat while Yvonne and Igor talk about the busy day ahead and realize there'll be no twisting her arm to go shopping. Maybe I'll just stay home and curl up in the home theater room to watch some romantic comedies.

Yvonne leaves first, and Igor turns to me. "You've hardly touched your breakfast."

"Still feel nauseous." I smile softly. "Don't worry about me. I'll eat something big for lunch."

"If you're not feeling better by then, let me know, and I'll send the doctor." He stands up and drops his napkin on his plate. He comes to me and strokes my face before he kneels down. Face to face, he leans forward and kisses me gently. I feel his warm breath on my lips before they meet his.

He moans softly into my mouth before he breaks the kiss. "Enjoy your day off."

"See you later," I murmur.

I watch him leave and decide to go shower and wash my hair. Maybe feeling clean will help me feel better, and then I can curl up in the home theater room with a movie.

I get up and go upstairs, walking up them slowly. I don't know why, but I get easily fatigued lately. It must be whatever sickness I have that's made me feel down.

I strip and climb into our shower and switch it on. The hot water cascades down my body, and I relax. I wet my hair and massage the shampoo into it, humming softly to myself. Once the conditioner is in, I wash my body. I notice as I wash that my boobs feel swollen and sore. I wash around them delicately.

As I wash, my mind wanders, and for the briefest moment, I wonder when last I had a period. The thought surprises me, but I try not to panic. I mean, it's probably due soon, which is why my breasts hurt.

I rinse off and get out, drying my body quickly. I wrap the towel around my body, go to the room to get my phone and pull up my calendar. I see the reminder and select it.

Last week.

My period was supposed to come last week.

I don't know if I'm filled with dread or joy at the prospect of what this could mean, but I do know before I get in over my head, I need a pregnancy test so I can know for definite.

I dress in a pink tracksuit and dry my hair before grabbing my handbag and heading downstairs. I open the door and walk straight into Matvey.

"Where are you sneaking off to?" he asks, looking down at me.

"Shops," I say nervously. "Just need to get a few things."

"I don't think that's a good idea, seeing as you're apparently sick," he says, taking my arm and leading me back inside. "Igor sent me home to keep an eye on you."

"He doesn't trust me to take care of myself?" I ask, somewhat annoyed.

"He just wants to take care of you, and I get to babysit as a result. Neither you nor I are happy about this situation."

I pull my arm away from him and stand my ground. "I need to go to the shops. I need stuff. Female stuff. Stuff I would rather get myself."

Matvey sighs and motions to the kitchen. "just ask Marie to get it."

"I want to get it myself. I thought we were past this whole prisoner vibe. Igor trusts me with millions of dollars but doesn't trust me to drive to the mall?" I cross my arms. "I am definitely not happy about this. Less than that. Worse than that."

Matvey runs a hand over his hair. "What do you want me to do about it? Do you want me to go to the store for you?'

"You're not listening. I am going to the store. I am not a prisoner. I am his wife." I walk toward the door, and Matvey catches me.

"You may be his wife, but I am coming with you for your protection." He straights his jacket and opens the door for me.

"Fine," I grumble, unsure what to say against that. I can't say I don't need his protection, even though I don't know what he's protecting me against. If I protest too much, it will look like I'm trying to run away.

"Where do you want to go first?" he asks, unlocking his car.

"Let's just get to the mall, and I will decide from there," I say as I slip into the passenger seat and buckle up.

The engine roars to life, and he darts quickly off the estate and into main traffic. Flashes of green pass my window as he speeds down the main road.

"Slow down. You're going to kill us." I hold a hand to my stomach. "And you're making my nausea worse."

He slows down, but I hear his sigh of frustration.

"Not everyone likes to drive as though the road is a racecourse," I say.

"I don't have time to be driving slow. I have better things to do with my time."

"I thought you were babysitting me today," I snip.

He huffs, and we fall silent. He's clearly in a bad mood, and I doubt Igor sent him to keep me trapped like a prisoner. Yvonne and I go shopping, and I could slip away from her anytime.

I look ahead, and suddenly, as I see the ice cream shop, I slap the dashboard. "Pull over. Pull over."

He swings into a parking spot and looks at me. "A little more warning next time. What are we doing here?"

"Pistachio ice cream." I lick my lips. "Two scoops."

"You're expecting me to get it for you?" he asks.

"Your treat," I say with a smile. "Feel free to lock me in the car."

He grumbles as he gets out, hitting the button so the doors lock. I watch as he walks into the ice cream shop. I'm almost drooling at the thought. I haven't had pistachio ice cream in forever. It used to be a treat I'd give myself when I first started waitressing. Every payday, I'd get one.

Matvey comes out with the ice cream on a sugar cone. I'm not going to complain.

He comes to the passenger door and opens it. "Get out."

"What?" I ask.

"You're not eating ice cream on my expensive leather seats," he grumbles. "Get out and eat it, then we'll go to the mall."

I undo my safety belt and climb out, taking the ice cream and digging in. He leans against his car, taking his phone out and scrolling on it while I enjoy myself.

We don't talk. We simply stand there. Some people glance at us as though we're weird, but it's probably because I look like I'm giving an ice cream the ultimate tongue action.

Once I'm done, I wipe my mouth and walk to the bin, throwing away the serviette. I go back to the car. "Happy?"

"You took forever," he says. "Now come on, I hate shopping."

Good. I think that will definitely work to my advantage. I don't want Matvey to see me buying the pregnancy test because I want Igor to be the first to know if I'm pregnant. I'm going to have to think of something embarrassing to buy so that he leaves me alone at the pharmacy.

We arrive at the mall a few minutes later, and he parks across two parking spaces.

I look at him. "Seriously."

"I don't want someone to scratch my car," he says.

"Park properly. This is such an asshole move." I cross my arms. "We're not going anywhere until you park like a civilized human being."

He fumes as he reverses out and parks in one parking bay. "One scratch on my car, and Igor buys me a new car, never mind repairing the damage," he growls.

I climb out, almost tempted to whack his door into the car next to us. I'm not that childish, though.

We walk into the mall, and I look around. I feel like someone is watching us. I rub the back of my neck, and Matvey turns to me. "What is it?"

"Nothing. I don't think I should have eaten that ice cream. It's repeating on me."

"There's a bathroom up ahead," he says, "You can puke in there."

"You're so thoughtful," I say with a smile, and he looks away.

He leaves me at the entrance to the hallway where the bathrooms are, and I go into the ladies and go straight to the first available stall.

I put my handbag down and lean over the toilet. The pistachio ice cream isn't as good the second time as the first, and my throat hurts from throwing up.

I'm sure I'm pregnant. I have to be.

I don't know how I feel about that. I've come to have feelings for Igor. He's passionate and protective and possessive and manly. I've come to accept our marriage, and I suppose children are inevitable.

I flush and go to the sink to wash my face and hands before I grab my handbag and head out.

Matvey is leaning against the wall and looks at me as I walk out. "Feel better?"

"I have no regrets," I say with a grin. "Right, I need tampons and pads…" I start rattling off.

He looks put out, and I smile. "Do you want to wait outside the pharmacy while I get what I need?"

He looks around. "There's a bench. I'll be right there."

I smile and walk into the store. I scan the aisles, walking along them and peeking down them to see where the pregnancy tests could possibly be.

I walk down one aisle and scan the shelves.

I feel something press into my back, and I hear a voice murmur, "This is a gun, and you're going to do exactly what I say. Nod if you understand me?"

I nod slowly.

It must be those men who jumped Matvey. I wonder how I can get his attention.

The person with the gun takes my arm. "This way."

He guides me to the back of the store and past the pharmacist. I try to get the pharmacist to notice me, but he doesn't budge. I swallow hard. If I can pull away, I can run.

"Don't get any clever ideas. This is for your own good, Arina."

I swear I recognize the voice.

We walk out of the staff exit, and there's a van running and waiting for us.

I open the door and get in. "There's no need to hurt me," I say quietly. The man climbs in, and I turn to face him.

It's Luka Milov.