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But one thing had gone right—Egor released John, just as I’d asked. Though I’d heard rumors that John hadn’t emerged unscathed, that he’d suffered from broken ribs and bones at Egor’s hands, through his brothers. I shuddered at the thought, my mind reeling with implications. He truly was a monster, no matter how charming he seemed.
A gust of cool breeze from the air-conditioner forced gooseflesh to rise on my skin, and I rubbed my arms to keep myself warm. The house was quiet. It always was. Egor hadn’t been home much, and Anatoly preferred moving around town with his boss to babysitting the lonely wife at home. Anna hadn’t come with us, and I missed her. We might not have been the best of friends, but she was the best companion when I needed that most.
I chuckled aloud, remembering how I’d grown tired of eating her traditionalblini, amongst other special dishes she loved cooking frequently, and now I missed every one of them. Here, it was just me in this big house, all alone. Egor didn’t bother with my food or cooking. He ate three square meals outside the house but kept the fridge loaded. He’d said he wanted me to eat healthy and proved it by ensuring I had a full supply of healthy food, stocking the fridge to the brim with fresh fruits, vegetables, and lean meat. There were rows of juicy apples, crisp carrots, and plump grapes. The shelves were lined with whole-grain bread, lean turkey, and fresh fish. I even spotted containers of my favorite Greek yogurt topped with fresh berries.
So, I was free to cook and eat whatever I wanted.
And like the gnawing feeling of not being at home, there was another that lingered. How often did Egor attend to work outside? Was it always business, or was there a bit of pleasure in the mix? In summary, and in plain English, was there a chance that he was...shaggingother women?
For a man like him, of his build and reputation, thoughts like that weren’t far-fetched, and his private business should not have posed a challenge or a bother to me, but it did. The vile claws of jealousy wrapped themselves around my heart and squeezed until bitterness consumed me. My mind wasn’t helping, either, conjuring rancid pictures of him betweenanother woman’s legs, touching her as he touched me, kissing her as he kissed me, filling her up, and driving her crazy with need, just as he had with me.
My thoughts drifted further and further down the crude mental images, almost far gone, when I felt an uncomfortable squishiness between my legs, like something warm and wet trickling down my skin in a line.
Lifting my skirt, I peeled my gaze off the twinkling city lights and stared at the trickle making its way down. I touched it, pressed my fingers together, and peered closer.
My heartbeat accelerated, thrashing against my ribcage, and panic overwhelmed my senses.
Blood.
Chapter 23 – Egor
“Get out of my fucking way,” I growled, restraining myself from shoving aside the people clogging the hallway.
Arlo fell in step beside me, and the nurse leading us hastened her steps, whether in fear of the angry sounds of our shoes behind hers or the eagerness to get me to my wife on time, I couldn’t tell, and I didn’t fucking care. What I wanted the most was to see her. And the baby.Definitely the baby.
Freya had called Anna.Anna!Who was fucking miles away in Moscow to report the situation—that she was bleeding and didn’t know what to do. And when Anna tried and couldn’t get through to me, she alerted one of the men in the mansion, who was oblivious to what was happening upstairs. The last time I checked, when a pregnant woman bled, it meant one thing—a miscarriage. I immediately worried about my child, and many questions plagued my mind. What if she lost the baby? But most importantly, to my surprise, I was more concerned about losing her.
I wanted to fume because she hadn’t called me, but on second thought, I could understand why she chose Anna over me. I marched forward, matching the energy of my heart pounding harshly in my ears as we made turns and finally entered the room where she was. Arlo waited outside, giving a subtle but encouraging nod before I closed the door behind me.
It smelled of antiseptic and fresh linens. Freya lay on the examination table, her eyes swollen and red-rimmed, as if she’d been crying. My gut twisted with a mix of concern and guilt—I’d never accompanied her to one of these appointments before, always too busy with work, dealing with the Irish, legal issues, and keeping things under control.
The doctor, a middle-aged blonde woman with experienced eyes and a warm smile, with the name tag “Millie,” greeted me with a nod and turned back to Freya. I fixed my eyes on the screen and, for the first time, saw our child, a tiny flickering shape on the monitor. A jolt of wonder surged through me, my gaze locked on the screen as the doctor pointed out tiny limbs and features. Even Freya’s eyes were glued to the screen, her eyes softening.
Doctor Millie smiled and offered us a chance to hear the heartbeat. Freya’s face lit up with a gentle smile as the sound filled the room—a rapid, steady beat that seemed to fill my chest with emotion.
“Everything looks good for now, however...” the doctor said, backing off and staring at us both with her hands tucked into the pocket of her white coat.
Howeverwas like buts, and nothing good ever came out of buts.
“If you have something to say, Doctor, go ahead and say it. Time is of the essence.”
She heaved a sigh, and my eyes fixed on the doctor's somber face. “Freya is suffering from preeclampsia,” she said, her voice low and grave as she went on to explain the condition. High blood pressure, severe headaches, swelling—the list went on, each symptom more terrifying than the last.
I turned to Freya, only to see her eyes brimming with tears. She nodded, confirming the doctor’s words.
“I've been having the headaches for weeks. Sometimes, it felt like the ground was slipping from under my feet,” she whispered, and a pang of guilt hit me when I realized I had no idea what she was going through. I had been so consumed by my own world, my own problems, that I hadn't even noticed.
Dr. Millie’s voice cut through my thoughts. “The worst-case scenario is organ damage…even death."
It felt like I'd been punched in the gut, like I’d been tied to a ton of bricks and dropped in the ocean.
"What the fuck do we do now, huh, Doctor?” I asked, struggling to keep the emotion out of my voice.
She took a deep breath. “The best and safest thing to do is to consider an abortion for your wife’s well-being.”
Another hit came in quick succession, the words hitting me like a tidal wave, sucking me right under. I looked at Freya, her face etched with pain and fear, the weight of the decision crushing me.
An abortion.
