Page 37 of Claimed By my Ex’s Uncle

"With me," he insists again.

I’ve already pushed my luck further than I should have, so I shrug and gesture for him to lead the way. Finally, I break away from the room that I’ve been trapped in all day.

We walk in silence. I spot a few of Ilya’s other men looking in my direction as I pass, no doubt wondering what I’m doing out of my cell. I ignore them. There is only one person in this entire place I trust, and that’s only because I’m carrying his child. I know that Ilya will not let anything happen to me, if only because any danger will affect our child, too.

The guard pushes open the door, and I step inside, chewing my lip as I stand there waiting for Ilya to notice me. He rises to his feet as soon as he does, his brows digging together with obvious concern.

"Something wrong?" he demands. "The doctor⁠—"

"Everything’s fine," I cut him off, casting a look in the direction of the guard, letting him know that he’s excused. The guard backs off, and I push the door shut behind me, leaning against it for a moment as I contemplate how to put my feelings into words.

"What is it?" Ilya asks, his eyes scanning mine.

I take a deep breath, now distinctly aware that I am about to share my doubts about his second-in-command. I don’t want him to turn on me in the process. He clearly has a lot of trust in Sergei. The question is whether that trust outweighs whatever he feels for me.

"I... I’m not sure," I admit as he moves around the table, pulling back the chair and gesturing for me to take a seat.

He presses his fingertips together, frowning. "Tell me," he insists.

"I’m worried I’m overthinking this⁠—"

"Tell me," he says more firmly, leaving no room for argument.

I glance up at him again, gathering my courage. Okay, so, I was in the room next to mine earlier. I thought that we could use it as the nursery, right? I was moving some things around⁠—"

"You shouldn’t be doing that, not in your condition,” he says gruffly.

"I know," I shoot back. "I just—just let me finish, okay?"

He nods at me to go on, his brow still furrowed.

"Sergei came by," I explain. "And he... he said some weird stuff to me. I’m not sure what he meant by it exactly."

He lifts his chin. "Said what, exactly?”

I flick my tongue over my bottom lip, considering my answer. "He... he asked if I was going to stay," I say. "And when I told him I was, and that I was turning that place into a nursery, he made this comment about how women in my condition need to be careful. About what might happen to us if something goes wrong."

Ilya’s face does not shift, and I wonder if I’ve overstepped the line. After all the trouble I’ve caused him, I shouldn’t expect him to be so open to what I have to say. I have fled from him, chewed him out, and brought him more trouble than he ever wanted.

“Did he explain himself?” Ilya asks.

I shake my head. "I asked him what he meant, but he just told me that I would need to be ready when the doctor came by, and that was it," I say. "I don’t know why he said all of that to me. Do you... did you tell him to?"

He shakes his head. "Has he spoken to you like that before? Given you reason to doubt him?"

I pause for a moment, considering. "I mean, he hasn’t said anything to me, exactly..."

"But there’s been something?”

"I guess you could say that."

"How?"

"How?” I echo.

I search my mind for all the pieces, trying to fit them together in a way that doesn’t make me sound like a paranoid freak. Sergei looking at me, or not looking at me, hardly seems like enough of a reason to bring this to Ilya, and I’m sure he’ll be quick to tell me that if I come out with it. But his gaze does not move from mine, and it’s clear he’s not going to back off until I explain.

"Uh, well, sometimes, when I’m walking around in here, I see him... watching me."