Chapter 38

Laura

I GRABmy phone from the nightstand, grunting as I roll onto my back. The screen lights up, and I squint at the time. Eleven in the morning. Lovely.

God, I think I slept less than a few hours.

My body feels exhausted, but my brain is running ten miles a minute.

I try not to spiral into a panic attack, but it’s hard not to when the reality of my situation keeps hitting me like a freight train. I’m pregnant. I’m actually, definitely, undeniably pregnant.

I am so fucking dead.

With a sigh, I unlock my phone, my heart sinking as I see that my message from last night was read. But there’s no reply from Victor.

Really, what was I expecting?

I stare at the screen for a moment, debating whether I should send another message. Finally, I type out:

Hey, going to have lunch with Ksenia Eli. Surprising, right? But yeah, just wanted to let you know…

My thumb hovers over the send button, uncertainty twisting in my gut. Is this too needy? Too desperate?

Fuck it. I hit send before I can second-guess myself.

He’s my husband, fake or not. He should know where I am.

With another grunt, I heave myself out of bed, my body protesting every movement. I wonder what time I’m supposed to be ready for this lunch date from hell.

The thought of spending extended time with Ksenia makes my skin crawl. I know she doesn’t like me, know she thinks I’m not good enough for her precious brother. And honestly, she scares the shit out of me.

But Eli will be there. Sweet, adorable Eli. That makes it bearable, at least.

I trudge to the bathroom, stripping off my sweat-soaked pajamas and stepping into the shower. The hot water pounds against my skin, easing some of the tension in my muscles.

After washing my hair and scrubbing myself raw, I step out, wrapping a fluffy towel around my body. I wipe the steam from the mirror, staring at my reflection.

I look like hell. Dark circles under my eyes, skin pale and drawn. But I can’t exactly show up to lunch looking like a zombie, can I?

With a sigh, I set to work, blow-drying my hair and applying a light layer of makeup. I rummage through my closet, pulling out a pair of dark skinny jeans and a flowy, emerald-green blouse. Casual but classy.

I slip on a pair of high ankle boots, taking one last look in the mirror. It’s as good as it’s going to get.

I’m just about to head downstairs when I hear a loud thumping on my door. Followed by a high-pitched, excited voice.

“Tetya Laura! Are you in there?”

Eli. A smile tugs at my lips despite the nerves churning in my stomach.

I open the door, revealing a beaming Eli, practically vibrating with energy.

“There you are!” she exclaims, bouncing on her toes. “Mama says it’s time to go. Are you ready?”

I take a deep breath, forcing my smile to widen. “As ready as I’ll ever be, munchkin. Lead the way.”

Eli grabs my hand, tugging me down the stairs, chattering a mile a minute about all the things she wants to do at lunch.

But even as I listen to her, nodding and smiling in all the right places, I can’t shake the feeling of dread that’s settled in the pit of my stomach.

Because I know without a doubt that this lunch is more than just a casual get-together.

It’s an interrogation. A test.

And if I fail, if Ksenia even suspects the truth…

I’m not sure I’ll make it out in one piece.

I step out of the SUV, my eyes darting around nervously. Ari, the bear of a man who drove me here, is already out, his gaze sweeping the area like he’s expecting an ambush any second.

Jesus, are we about to be attacked or something?

My heart is pounding. This is just lunch, not a fucking military operation.

But I guess when you’re a Morozov, even a simple meal comes with a side of paranoia.

We’re at some fancy-ass restaurant, the kind with a French name I can’t pronounce and a menu that probably doesn’t even have prices listed. Just stepping through the door makes me feel underdressed, even in my nice blouse and jeans.

A snooty-looking host practically trips over himself to greet Ksenia, bowing and scraping like she’s the fucking Queen of England. I resist the urge to roll my eyes.

Eli, on the other hand, seems totally unfazed. She skips ahead of us, twirling around in her pretty dress, her curls bouncing. I can’t help but smile at her enthusiasm, even as my own stomach churns with nerves.

Ksenia pauses just inside the door, her eyes meeting Ari’s in some kind of silent communication. He nods, his hand resting on the gun I know is hidden beneath his jacket.

Wow. This is really how they live, huh?

A chill runs down my spine as I think of a life where they’re constantly looking over their shoulders, waiting for the next attack.

I don’t know if I should feel safe or terrified. Maybe both.

We’re led to a private room in the back, all plush velvet and gleaming silver. Eli immediately starts chattering about the fancy chandelier, the pretty plates, the view out the window. Her excitement is contagious, and I find myself relaxing a bit.

But then I catch Ksenia watching me, her eyes sharp and assessing. And just like that, the knot in my stomach is back, tighter than ever.

She knows. She fucking knows, and she’s just waiting for the right moment to pounce.

I take a sip of water, trying to calm my nerves. But it’s hard to relax when I feel like I’m sitting across from a predator, just waiting for her to bare her teeth.

Eli, bless her heart, seems oblivious to the tension. She’s too busy coloring on her menu, her tongue poking out in concentration.

I envy her innocence, her ability to see the world as a bright, happy place. I wish I could shield her from the darkness that lurks beneath the surface, the danger that follows her family like a shadow.

Ksenia clears her throat, drawing my attention back to her. She’s smiling, but there’s no warmth in it. It’s the smile of a shark, all teeth and hunger.

“So, Laura,” she says, her voice deceptively casual. “Tell me. How are you finding married life so far?”

I swallow hard, my mouth suddenly dry. It’s a loaded question, and we both know it.

“It’s… it’s good,” I manage, my voice only slightly shaky. “Victor is… he’s…”

I trail off, unsure how to finish that sentence.

A ruthless killer? A man I barely know? The father of my unborn child?

“He is… Morozov,” Ksenia says, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. “And so are you for the next few months.”

I blink, nodding intensely under her unwavering stare. My heart’s pounding so hard I’m surprised it hasn’t burst out of my chest yet.

“We do not keep secrets in this family, you understand?” Ksenia continues, her voice low and serious. “Secrets can be dangerous. Deadly, even.”

Secrets? Which one? The one about Dimitry working with their biggest enemy? Or the one growing in my womb, ready to blow up my life?

I take a deep breath, counting silently to ten in my head.

Stay calm, Laura. Don’t let her see you sweat.

Eli looks up from her menu, glancing between her mom and me. I force a smile, trying to look like everything’s totally normal and not at all terrifying.

“Mama, can I get the es-car-got?” Eli asks, sounding out the fancy French word. “It sounds yummy!”

Ksenia’s face softens for a moment as she looks at her daughter. “Escargot, darling. And yes, you can try it if you’d like.”

Eli beams, going back to studying the menu with renewed enthusiasm.

I clear my throat, trying to keep my voice steady. “I… yes, no secrets. I understand.”

But do I really? What is she implying? That she knows about Dimitry? Or is she fishing for something else entirely?

Before I can spiral too far down that rabbit hole, there’s a knock at the door. A moment later, a server enters, his posture ramrod straight and his face carefully blank.

He bows slightly to Ksenia, his hands trembling just a bit as he holds out a leather-bound menu. “Madam Morozov, welcome back. Might I offer you our wine list for this afternoon?”

Ksenia takes the menu, barely glancing at it before handing it back. “The usual for me, Rob. And bring a glass of apple juice for my daughter.”

Rob nods, jotting down her order on his notepad. Then he turns to me, his eyebrows raised in question.

But before I can even open my mouth, Ksenia speaks again. “She’ll have the salmon ni?oise salad. Light on the dressing.”

I blink, startled by her presumption. But I don’t dare argue, not with the way Ksenia’s looking at me.

Rob nods, scribbling on his pad. “Very good, madam. And for the young lady?”

Eli looks up from her menu, her face serious. “Can I have the chicken fingers and fries, please? And ketchup!”

Ksenia smiles indulgently at her daughter. “Of course, darling. Whatever you like.”

Rob makes a final note, then backs out of the room with another little bow. I can see the sweat beading on his forehead, the fear in his eyes.

Christ, is this how everyone reacts to Ksenia? Like she’s some kind of mob boss?

I mean, I guess she kind of is.

I take a sip of my water, trying to calm my nerves. But it’s hard to relax when I feel Ksenia’s gaze on me, heavy and assessing.

She picks up her own water glass, swirling the liquid around before taking a delicate sip. Then she sets it down, her fingers tapping against the stem.

“So, Laura,” she says, her voice casual but her eyes sharp. “Tell me. Are you pregnant?”