Page 35 of Claimed By my Ex’s Uncle

But that note… that note was real. There’s no way in hell Rose would have faked something like that, I am sure of it. She knows that she will pay if she lies to me, and, as defiant as she’s been since she arrived here, she doesn’t take risks like that. Besides, what good would it do her to throw something like that into the mix? She must have known that I would tighten security on her, take things to the next level, and she seems intent on clinging to as much of her freedom as she can.

No, something just doesn’t sit right. There’s a piece missing. I might have acted too hastily in casting Kieran out, or in blaming Petar for the note in the first place...

I rub a hand over my face. Fuck it. Having Rose so close to me has my mind spinning. I have a child in the mix now, who I have to protect on top of everything else. A child who was threatened in that note in a way I can’t ignore.

All of these pieces are piling up on each other faster than I can make sense of them. But if I don’t get a handle on them soon, things will only spin further out of my control.

And I don’t know who will pay the price if that happens.

Chapter 19

Rose

I hum to myself as I pull the bookcase away from the wall, pushing it over to the far side of the room. Yes, I can almost see how it will all come together: the crib right there beside the window, so the baby will wake to sunshine pouring into the room every morning.

Wait—are babies supposed to get a lot of sunshine? Shit, there’s still so much I need to learn about all of this, and I don’t know where to start.

I sigh, planting my hands on my hips as I catch my breath. I can almost hear Ilya’s voice in my mind, telling me to be more careful about how I handle myself because I need to think of the baby. But I will lose my mind if I spend any longer locked up in that room, waiting for the doctor to arrive. And besides, if I’m going to be having my child here, I want to make sure that they have a decent nursery waiting for them.

The room I’ve selected is the one next to mine. I insisted to the guards on my door that they could stand watch over me the same way they do in my quarters, but that if I didn’t get out of there, I was going to lose it entirely. I don’t know if they believed me, but they stopped arguing with me about it, and that has to count for something. Right now, two of them are standing just outside the door. Before I came in, one of them checked the windows to make sure I couldn’t make a break for it.

Though, truthfully, I am beyond the point of no return with this place now. I can run as far as I want, trying to escape back to the life I had known before, but I can tell that Ilya is never going to let me get away. He has purchased my apartment, my job—shit, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s thrown enough money at this whole damn city to make sure that I couldn’t set foot outside this place without him knowing about it. After the way he claimed me in front of his men, there’s nothing I can do to deny the ownership he has of me—and it’s time to come to terms with it.

I don’t really have much in the way of baby stuff to fill this place with, but at least I’ll be able to imagine what it’ll look like when it’s all put together. I want this to be the baby’s room, right next to mine, and I imagine propping up a baby monitor next to my bed so I can watch them as they sleep. A surge of protectiveness runs through me at the thought. Oh, no, I’m totally going to be sharing a room with my child for at least the first few months. I can already tell I’m going to be fussing over them at every turn, but, with the world I’m bringing them into, I guess that’s no bad thing.

There’s a bathroom attached to this guest room, so I suppose I’ll have to get it all set up to ensure the child’s safety. I step into it, planting my hands on my hips and surveying the space before me. I need one of those little baby baths, that’s for sure. And something for toilet training, eventually. Would I need a changing table, too? I get the feeling that there is little that Ilya will deny me if I ask him for it, but that doesn’t mean I want to owe him more favors than I already do.

I hear the door to the room open. I stick my head out, expecting to see one of the guards checking on me, but I’m surprised to find myself looking at Sergei. My eyebrows raise slightly, and I wonder what I’ve done to earn the second-in-command’s attention.

"What is it?" I ask, stepping out of the bathroom so I can face him directly.

Sergei’s gaze meets mine for a moment, taking me in, like he’s surprised to see me out of my room. "I went to your room,” he says. “You weren’t there."

"Evidently," I reply, gesturing around. "I want to get started on putting together a nursery, now that I’m going to be living here."

His eyes flash with something I can’t get a read on, and I find myself shifting my weight from foot to foot slightly, suddenly nervous at his presence. I hardly know this man, after all. As much as Ilya clearly puts a huge amount of trust in him, there’s a part of me that can’t get a handle on him. The way he averted his eyes from Ilya and me in the meeting room, how he was watching me the other day… it’s as though there is something burning just out of sight, threatening to punch its way to the surface.

And God, I don’t think I’m ready for any more surprises. Not after everything that has happened.

"You plan to stay, then?" Sergei replies, his voice even.

My head jerks back slightly in surprise. "Uh, yeah, of course I do," I reply, laughing slightly, as though it’s the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard. "Not like I have much of a choice in the matter, is it?"

His eyebrow arches for a brief moment. "Of course," he replies smoothly, and I can almost mistake the tone in his voice for concern. But there’s something else inside it, something pulled taut. I almost want to ask him what he’s doing here so I can get this conversation over with, but I can sense that I shouldn’t go delving further than necessary.

"I’m glad you seem to take your place here so seriously," he continues, voice measured, all too aware that he’s on the brink of giving something away if he’s too blunt with me.

Shit, maybe I’m just being paranoid, letting the stress of everything that’s happened snake under my skin in a way that I shouldn’t. Call it motherly instincts, but there’s something in me throwing up warning signs that there’s something off about this man.

"Well, I’m going to be a mother," I point out. "I have to think about the baby. Keeping them safe."

"Sensible," he agrees, taking another step into the room. Behind him, I can see that the guards who were on the door seem to have vanished. Dismissed by him? I can’t imagine any other reason they would leave their posts like that.

"After all," he continues, "you know what happens to women in your position when things... don’t go to plan."

I know he’s framing it in that delicate tone to disguise the threat lying beneath. A cold shudder runs down my spine, and I stare at him.

"What—what do you mean by that?"