Chapter 36

Victor

AS SOONas I pull into the lobby, Laura bolts out of the car like her ass is on fire. She races into the house and straight up to our room, leaving me to park the fucking car.

I find her in the bathroom, bent over the toilet bowl, making sounds like a dying cat.

“Are you okay?” I ask, trying to keep the concern out of my voice.

“Yes, yes, I’m fine,” she mumbles, waving me away like I’m a particularly annoying fly. “Just… just give me a minute.”

She looks like death warmed over, her skin pale and clammy, her eyes ringed with dark circles. This isn’t the first time she’s been sick like this, and it’s starting to worry me.

“You don’t look fine,” I say, folding my arms across my chest. “I’m calling Dr. Petrov. He needs to check you out.”

Her eyes widen, and she shakes her head so violently I’m surprised it doesn’t fly off her shoulders. “No! No, that’s not necessary. I’m good, I swear. I just need some food.”

She staggers to her feet, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She wobbles over to the sink, turning on the faucet and sticking her toothbrush in her mouth.

“Did you even eat breakfast?” I ask, watching as she scrubs at her teeth like she’s trying to erase the taste of her own stomach acid.

“Mmmhmm,” she mumbles around the toothbrush, foam dribbling down her chin. “Mmmad toas’ ‘nd ‘offee.”

I raise an eyebrow, trying to decipher her garbled words. “You had toast and coffee?”

She nods, spitting into the sink. “I just need some real food now. Something solid.”

She turns to face me, and I have to bite back a laugh. There’s a big glob of toothpaste foam stuck to her upper lip, making her look like a rabid chipmunk.

“You, uh… you got a little something…” I gesture to my own mouth, trying to keep a straight face.

Her brow furrows, and she swipes at her mouth, completely missing the foam. “Did I get it?”

I sigh, shaking my head. “Here, let me.”

I step closer, reaching out to wipe the foam away with my thumb. Her breath hitches as I touch her, her eyes locked on mine.

For a moment, we just stand there, frozen. My thumb lingers on her lip, the air between us charged with something I can’t quite name.

Then she clears her throat, stepping back. “Thanks. I, uh… I should probably get some food from… The kitchen.”

I nod, shoving my hands in my pockets. “Yeah. Probably.”

She gives me a tight smile, then disappears into the hallway, closing the door behind her.

I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding, running a hand through my hair.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

Getting all worked up over a little toothpaste foam?

I’m acting like a goddamn teenager with his first crush. This woman is making me soft.

I shake my head, trying to clear my thoughts. I need to focus on the task at hand, not on the way Laura’s lips felt under my thumb.

I pull out my phone, checking for any updates from Misha and Ari. They’ve been staking out the location where Vasiliev’s men are storing our stolen cargo, waiting for the right moment to strike.

There’s a new message from Misha, just two words:

It’s time.

I feel a grim smile tug at my lips. Finally, some good fucking news.

Ksenia’s plan worked like a charm. Vasiliev agreed to return our goods in exchange for the ledger, just like we knew he would. The poor bastard has no idea we have bigger plans for him.

Now, it’s just a matter of getting our shit back and making sure Vasiliev pays for crossing us.

The prick is about to have a very bad day.

Laura

As I tiptoe into the kitchen—scratch that, this place is more like a gourmet food hall than a kitchen—I pray to every deity I can think of that no one catches me.

The last thing I need is a nosy maid or, God forbid, Ksenia asking why I’m rummaging through the fridge like a raccoon in a trash can.

I’m just about to make a break for the pantry when a voice behind me nearly makes me jump out of my skin.

“Madam, you want to eat something?”

I spin around, my heart lodged somewhere in my throat. It’s Nadia, the head maid, looking at me with a mixture of concern and amusement.

“Nadia! Hi! I was just, uh…” I scramble for an excuse, my mind going blank. “I was looking for… food?”

Nadia raises an eyebrow, her lips twitching like she’s trying not to laugh. “I can make for you. What you want?”

I hesitate, my stomach churning. The thought of food makes me want to hurl, but I can’t exactly tell her that.

“Maybe just some toast? And ginger tea, if you have it?”

Nadia nods, already moving toward the stove. “Sit, sit. I bring to you.”

I obey, perching on one of the bar stools and drumming my fingers nervously on the counter.

My palms and armpits start to sweat just thinking about the pregnancy tests tucked away in my purse upstairs.

Three of them.

Because apparently, I’m paranoid as fuck, and one just wasn’t enough.

I can feel the panic rising in my throat, the reality of the situation hitting me like a ton of bricks. What if it confirms my fears?

What if I’m pregnant?

With Victor’s baby. My fake husband, the Russian mafia boss.

Holy shit, holy shit, holy fucking shit.

I’m so lost in my spiraling thoughts that I don’t even notice Nadia setting a plate in front of me until she clears her throat.

“Toast and tea, madam.”

I blink, snapping out of my daze. “Oh, thank you. And please, just call me Laura.”

She smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Laura. Pretty name.”

I take a sip of the tea, hoping it will settle my stomach. It doesn’t.

“How long have you worked here, Nadia?” I ask, desperate for a distraction.

She thinks for a moment, her brow furrowing. “Many years. Since Master Victor was boy.”

I lean forward, suddenly intrigued. “Really? What was he like as a kid?”

Nadia’s expression turns wistful, tinged with sadness. “He was good boy. Smart, strong. But very sad after his mama…” She trails off, her eyes glistening.

I feel a pang in my chest, a sudden need to know more. “What happened to his mother?”

Nadia sighs, shaking her head. “Accident. When Master Victor was nine. Very tragic.”

I swallow hard, my throat tight. “I’m so sorry. That must have been awful for him.”

She nods, wringing her hands. “He miss her very much. But we not talk about it. Too painful.”

I can only imagine. Losing a parent at such a young age, having to grow up in this world without a mother’s love and guidance…

No wonder Victor is the way he is.

I’m about to ask more when a wave of nausea hits me like a freight train. I clap a hand over my mouth, bolting from the stool and making a beeline for the nearest bathroom.

I barely make it to the toilet before I’m hurling my guts out, the tea and toast making a reappearance. I groan, resting my forehead against the cool porcelain.

Fuck. This… is not food poisoning…

I take a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart. With shaky hands, I clean myself up, splashing cold water on my face and rinsing the bitter taste from my mouth.

As I step out of the bathroom, I nearly collide with Nadia, who’s waiting just outside the door. Her kind face is etched with concern, her brows knitted together.

“Are you okay, Madam Laura?” she asks, her voice soft.

I force a smile, nodding. “I’m okay, Nadia. Just… just a bit of food poisoning, I think.”

Nadia’s eyes twinkle with a knowing gleam, her lips twitching into a barely suppressed smirk. She knows. Of course, she fucking knows. She’s probably seen this a million times before.

“I make soup for you. I bring to your room. Good for… food poisoning,” she says, her tone laced with a hint of mischief.

I can only nod, my cheeks burning with embarrassment. “Thank you, Nadia. That would be great.”

She gives me a wink, then turns and heads back to the kitchen, leaving me to make my way upstairs on wobbly legs.

Once I’m safely in my room, I lock the door behind me, leaning against it for a moment to catch my breath.

Victor is gone.

I check my phone, my heart sinking as I read his message.

Won’t be back tonight. Don’t wait up.

Wow, okay. Way to be a supportive husband. Really feeling the love here.

I toss my phone onto the bed, running a hand through my hair.

Right, because it’s not like I might need you or anything. Not like I might be carrying your fucking child.

But maybe it’s better this way. At least now I can find out for sure without worrying about him walking in on me mid-pee.

My eyes dart to my purse, where the pregnancy tests are hidden like some sort of ticking time bomb.

Come on, Laur. You can do this. Just pee on the stick and get it over with.

With trembling fingers, I fish out one of the tests, staring at it like it might bite me. I take a deep breath, then another, trying to work up the courage to just fucking do it already.

Finally, I force myself into the bathroom, ripping open the packaging with my teeth. I follow the instructions, my heart hammering in my chest as I set the test on the counter and wait.

Five minutes. That’s all it takes. Five fucking minutes to change my life forever.

I pace the room, my mind racing with a million different scenarios. What if it’s positive? What the hell am I going to do? How am I going to tell Victor?

Oh, hey, honey! Remember that night we got drunk and fucked like rabbits? Well, surprise! You’ve got a bun in my oven!

Yeah, that’ll go over real well.

I glance at the clock, my stomach twisting with nerves. Has it been five minutes yet? It feels like it’s been hours.

Fuck it. Close enough.

I steel myself, then march into the bathroom, snatching up the test with shaky hands.

And there they are. Two pink lines, stark against the white backdrop.

Positive.

I’m pregnant.