CHAPTER THREE
Irina's POV
Three weeks had passed since that night.
Three weeks of waking up and wishing it had all been a terrible dream. Of avoiding mirrors because I could not stand to look at myself.
Three weeks of pretending everything was fine when nothing would ever be fine again.
I had not seen Alexei since that morning. He disappeared the day after the party, and I was grateful. I could not face him. I could not look into those forest green eyes without remembering.
Dimitri noticed something was wrong. Of course he did. He knew me too well. But I lied and lied and lied until even I almost believed my own words.
It was just a stomach bug, I told him. Just exhaustion. Just stress.
But it was not.
The sickness came every morning now. I threw up until there was nothing left. I stopped eating because food made it worse. I lost weight I could not afford to lose.
And I knew.
Deep down in a place I did not want to look, I knew what was happening to me.
I was pregnant.
With Alexei's child.
The thought made me want to scream. Made me want to tear my own skin off. Made me want to disappear into nothing so I would not have to face what was coming.
Because Dimitri would find out eventually. There was no hiding something like this forever. And when he did, everything I had built over four years would crumble to dust.
He would hate me.
He would think I betrayed him.
He would never believe it was a mistake. That I had thought it was him.
The fear ate at me like acid.
I tried to hide it. I wore bigger clothes, and avoided him as much as I could.
I did my duties quickly and left before he could ask questions.
But today, he had asked me to wash his hair.
It was something I did often.
It was something intimate and quiet that I usually loved. But today my hands shook as I filled the basin with warm water. Today my stomach churned with nausea that would not go away.
Dimitri sat in the chair by his bathroom sink with his head tilted back, and his eyes closed. He looked peaceful. And very beautiful.
I poured water over his hair carefully, watching it darken and stick to his scalp. My fingers worked shampoo through the thick strands, massaging his scalp the way he liked.
"That feels good," he murmured.
I tried to smile but my face felt frozen.
I felt dizzy suddenly. Just a little. Just enough to make me pause.
I blinked hard and kept working, rinsing the shampoo away with shaking hands.
I felt dizzy again. Harder this time.
My vision blurred at the edges. My knees felt weak. The basin in my hands suddenly weighed a thousand pounds.
"Irina?" Dimitri's voice sounded far away. "Are you…"
The basin slipped from my fingers.
Water splashed everywhere.
And then the floor rushed up to meet me.
I heard Dimitri shout my name, and felt strong arms catch me before I hit the ground. Then everything went black.
When I woke, I was lying in Dimitri's bed. The room was dim, and quiet. My head pounded with a dull, persistent ache.
I tried to sit up but a wave of nausea pushed me back down.
"Do not move."
I turned my head and saw an old man sitting in a chair beside the bed. Dr. Petrov. I recognized him from when one of the guards had been shot last year. He was the Volkov family doctor.
Fear shot through me like ice water.
"What happened?" I asked, my voice hoarse.
"You fainted," he said gently. "Dimitri Volkov brought me here to examine you."
"Where is he?" I asked carefully.
"He had a meeting he could not miss. But he left strict orders that I take care of you."
I closed my eyes. Of course he had a meeting. Dimitri always had meetings. The Bratva did not stop just because a maid collapsed.
"I am fine," I said. "Just tired. I can go back to work now."
"I am afraid that is not possible." Dr. Petrov's voice was kind but firm. "You are very weak. You have not been eating. Your body is under significant stress."
"I will eat more. I promise. I just need to…"
"You are pregnant, Miss Irina." He said suddenly. The words hung in the air like a death sentence.
I stared at him. My mouth opened but no sound came out.
"About four weeks along," he continued. "That is why you have been so sick. The morning sickness should pass in a few weeks, but you need to eat. You need to rest. You need to take care of yourself and the baby."
The baby.
The word made everything real in a way it had not been before.
There was a baby growing inside me. Alexei's baby. A constant, living reminder of the worst night of my life.
"No," I whispered. "No, that is not possible."
"I am quite certain of the diagnosis." He replied calmly.
"Does Dimitri know?" My voice cracked on his name.
Dr. Petrov hesitated. "I have not told him yet. I wanted to speak with you first. But he will need to know eventually."
"No." I sat up too fast and the room spun. "No, you cannot tell him. Please. You cannot."
"Miss Irina, he is going to find out one way or another. It is better if he hears it from…"
"Please." Tears streamed down my face. "Please do not tell him. Not yet. I need time. I need to figure out how to explain. Please."
The doctor looked at me with sad, knowing eyes. Like he understood more than I was saying.
"I will give you one week," he said quietly. "One week to tell him yourself. But after that, if you have not, I will have to inform him. For your safety and the baby's."
One week.
Seven days to figure out how to destroy the only good thing I had ever known.
Dr. Petrov left medicine for the nausea and strict instructions to eat and rest. Then he gathered his things and left, closing the door softly behind him.
I lay in Dimitri's bed, staring at the ceiling, my hand pressed against my still flat stomach.
A baby.
I was carrying a baby.
And I had no idea what to do.
Hours passed. The light outside faded from gray to black. I heard footsteps in the hallway. Voices. The sounds of the house settling into evening routine.
I should get up, go back to my quarters, and pretend everything was normal for as long as I could.
But I could not move. I could not face the world outside this room.
The door suddenly slammed open. And Dimitri stepped inside. He looked furious. His jaw was clenched tight. His hands were balled into fists at his sides. His ocean blue eyes burned with rage that made my blood run cold.
I have never seen this side of him.
This was not the Dimitri who was gentle with me. This was the Pakhan. The monster Moscow feared.
I scrambled off the bed on shaky legs. My whole body trembled. I wanted to run but there was nowhere to go.
Dimitri took three long strides and stopped in front of me.
"You are pregnant." His voice was deadly cold. The kind of cold that could freeze hell over.
My eyes widened. My mouth opened but no words came out.
How did he know?
How did he find out?
But words traveled faster than light in this house. Someone must have told him. A maid. A guard. Someone who heard the doctor. Someone who could not wait to spread the news.
"Who dared touc
h you?!" His voice was low and lethal. Each word cut like a blade.
I took a step back. Tears filled my eyes. My throat closed up.
"Dimitri, please…"
"WHO?!" He roared.