34. Alena

Pregnant.

The word and possibility haunt me in the days after Alyona shoved the test into my hands. I haven't taken it. It sits, hidden away in a dresser drawer along with the possibility that what Alyona senses is true.

I can't be pregnant, can I?

No, it's ridiculous. I can't be. I'm not.

If anything, the timing is absolutely atrocious.

For the first time since arriving here, Kristof hasn't been coming to bed. He's tense, more stressed than I've ever seen him, and other than a rough fuck right in the middle of the hallway, we've barely seen each other. Something has him worked up and concerned, but my attempts to find out the truth have fallen on deaf ears. He tells me not to worry, kisses me, and ushers me away to relax.

How can I relax when the man I'm with won't trust me with the truth? In brief flashes in the dark of night, it reminds me of being back with my father, kept in the dark while the world turns without me.

Now, Alyona thinks I'm pregnant, and as ridiculous as that seems, to her credit, the symptoms fit.

The birds and bees talk with Mara when I was younger was pretty simple. It was often discussed how my first child would be the heir to the Orlova Estate, and thus, parentage was incredibly important. The baby was always spoken about as a done deal, and beyond that, my education was slim.

But it can't be real.

It can't be.

As I wander the gardens, brushing my fingertips over the cool leaves as I pass, my bodyguard, Chek, hangs back. He doesn't talk much, but he seems to have realized I need time to think.

Slowly, I place one hand over my abdomen. Fevers, aching breasts, and morning sickness. The symptoms are there. Then again, sex with Kristof is rough, and I'm often left with pleasant aches. And the air here is different, the food too. It's entirely possible that my system is just adjusting to a change, and that's okay.

Despite the excuses I tell myself, one word weaves around my mind and I can't ignore it no matter how hard I try.

Baby.

The word weaves around my very soul in a constant loop, and suddenly, a deep yearning for Katja pulls through my chest. She would know what to do, I'm certain of it. She was always more worldly than me. Talking to her would ease my worries in an instant, and knowing her, she'd have me laughing through tears before the sun set.

Fuck.

I miss her terribly.

I slide my arms around my abdomen, hugging myself as I walk and trying to emulate a hug from my absent best friend. The way things are going, I have no idea whether I'll ever see her again.

Not only that. A baby changes so much.

Not just with my parents and what my child would inherit, but with Kristof too. My life started behind gilded bars, a pawn for those in charge to move around at will to gain the best advantage. Then, I swapped gold for iron bars and a basement room where Kristof made me feel more wanted than I've ever experienced in my life. Now, I'm surrounded by granite walls, beautiful thick trees, and people at my beck and call, ready to drop anything for me at my request. I never would, but the power is there and it exists because of Kristof.

He's given me more of a life than I ever had back with my parents. He unlocked things inside me that had been smothered for years and bred a confidence that I never imagined having. It's not just the sex. Even glancing in the mirror, I can see that I carry myself differently now.

In some lights, I remind myself of Mara.

The people here see me. They joke with me, laugh, and share tales. I can go shopping or walking without having to navigate ten thousand rules to do so. Here, I'm a real person. Respected. Not just a daughter to be sold off to whomever my father decides is a savvy business decision.

Laying all that out for myself makes things here seem incredible.

But none of it has ever included talk of children. In fact, I haven't seen a child or heard talk of any children involved in families outside of this house. It's the one subject that's never been approached, and now it dangles over me like the hangman's noose.

How much would a baby change things? Would Kristof lose interest?

My heart flutters at the thought.

What if he dumps me here and never comes back? What if a child scares him away and I become nothing but another Mafia wife, barely spoken about and capable of only raising the children? How would I fend for myself in this country if Kristof realized he'd made a mistake?

My chest tightens, and my next few breaths are tighter than I'd like. My footsteps stumble slightly, and I make my way over to a carved stone bench under a weeping willow. The chill of the stone seeps through my skirt, and I grip my knees tightly, panting through the tightness. Sweat breaks out across my temple, and nausea churns in my gut.

Fuck.

I can't lose him. I can't. I won't cope. He jokes about being obsessed with me, but he has no idea, no fucking idea how much I…

"Alena?"

My head snaps up to Nastja who stands before me, looking gorgeous as ever in leather pants and a tight red tank top.

"Nastja…"

"Darling, what's wrong?"

She settles next to me on the bench and drapes an arm across my shoulders.

"I…" Words fail me, especially with Chek lingering so close and looking incredibly concerned. Nastja seems to catch my apprehension, and she sends Chek away with a tilt of her head. She rubs my back with one hand, and the other lifts my head to tuck some hair behind my ear.

"Talk to me," she says softly but firmly. "What is wrong?"

"I think I might be pregnant." It spills out of me in a hot rush, and then I slap a hand over my mouth.

Nastja's face widens with a bright smile. "Are you sure? Darling, that's amazing!"

"Is it?" I splutter behind my fingers. "I haven't taken a test yet, but what am I going to do if it's right? What am I going to do with a baby? What is Kristof going to do?"

Nastja scowls softly. "As dear as he is, forget my brother right now," she says. "Forget him and everyone else. Tell me, how do you feel?"

"Sick."

"Is that all?"

"Uh… scared. Like my intestines are going to crawl right up my throat and escape me. It's not something my moth—Mara ever talked to me about. I'm scared, Nastja."

"Your mother, she did not help you? What a foolish woman," Nastja scoffs. "Forgive me, but even I was aware that a child for you was expected at some point. You"d think she would have prepared you somewhat." Nastja shakes her head and sighs. "Darling, listen to me. Everyone who has ever been in your position is scared. Even people desperately trying."

"Really?" I lower my hand and warmth prickles behind my eyes.

"Yes. But the most important thing is that you are in charge here, yes? You should take a test and ensure you are not worrying about nothing. But if it is positive, then you take time to think. Are you ready to be a mother? Do you even want to be? All of these things are important."

"I don't know," I answer honestly. "I haven't even thought about it, but then Alyona saw I had been unwell, and somehow, she just knew."

"Ahh." Nastja chuckles with a knowing smile. "She knows more than we can ever understand." She brushes my cheek with her curled knuckle. "One thing I can assure you is that I am here for you, whatever you decide. Take the test. If it is real, then we can discuss how you feel and what you want to do. I will be right by your side, do you understand?"

Once more, Nastja astounds me. She takes so much in her stride, and here she is, delivering all the reassurance I was sure I wouldn't find here.

"Really?" I ask softly, fighting the tears clinging to my lashes. "Even if I don't want it?"

"If that is what you decide, then yes. Even then." She smiles widely. "You are my sister, yes? I will support you, no matter what."

Sister.

Yes. I like that.

"And." Nastja chuckles. "I know Kristof. I know he will be so happy to hear this. He will unfurl the flags, I am sure. But it is up to you when you tell him. And not before you are certain."

"I'm scared to tell him. It would change so much. What if it changes the way he looks at me?" I ask.

"Oh, it will," she replies, and my heart falls.

"Really?"

"Every man changes how he looks at his woman when she becomes the mother of his child. It's natural and powerful," she reassures me, clasping my hand in hers. "You must be strong and do what is best for you. I understand our family started in unorthodox ways, but you are our family, and every one of us will support you. Kristof included."

Her hands squeeze mine, and I blink, allowing a few tears to fall. The tight band around my chest fades away with each breath.

Family.

Nastja says it, and it carries weight for the first time in my life. This is my family. And Kristof? How I feel for him has grown so intensely since I became his that my heart clenches with a happy ache when I picture the two of us with a child between us.

"Thank you," I murmur.

"Take the test first, though." Nastja chuckles. "If it is false, well, my speech still stands. That earns me points, right?"

"Yes." I grin. "Sister points."

"Indeed." Nastja laughs.

Suddenly, Chek stands to attention at the bush he's lingering near. A moment later, Kristof comes running around the corner. My heart, warmed to see him, immediately turns cold at the serious, dark look on his face.

"Kristof?"

For a moment, I fear Alyona told him and he's here to cast me out.

"Brother?" Nastja is on her feet, but her hand remains around mine.

"Aleksander knows," Kristof barks out tightly. "He knows Alena is here, and he's coming to get her!"