Page 6 of Claimed By my Ex’s Uncle

"I’ll be there," he told me. "You don’t think I notice how convenient this is, Rose?"

"Convenient?" I echoed. I almost laughed.

"That you would get pregnant right after you find out I’m engaged," he replies. "Lisa told me she saw you in the store and you were asking about her ring. Don’t pretend you don’t know."

"You think I’m doing this because I want to get you back or something?" I blurted out, baffled.

"I just want to make sure that you’re really pregnant," he replied. "And if you’re telling the truth, nothing for you to worry about, huh? Text me the time and place of the appointment, and I’ll be there."

That was the last I heard from him. I did as he asked, let him know when and where this appointment would be taking place. He saw the message, but still hasn’t gotten back to me. I want nothing more than to prove to him that I would never lie about something like this, but I hate that this pregnancy might play into his ridiculous belief that I would want him in my life after everything he did to me.

Doesn’t he realize how crazy that sounds? Six weeks ago, I intended to leave his entire family behind for good, to forget that I had ever been stupid enough to get involved with someone like Petar in the first place. And that’s exactly what I would have done, if it hadn’t been for this entirely inconvenient thing that has flipped my world upside-down.

"Rose?"

I glance up to see the nurse practitioner standing in the doorway. She smiles and waves me over.

"I’m ready to see you now," she tells me. "Take a seat. Would you like a glass of water or anything?"

"No, I’m fine," I reply, clasping my hands in my lap. "Honestly, I’d just like to get this over with."

"No problem," she replies as she takes her seat at her desk and clicks through some of my files. "Not so good with taking blood, huh?"

"No," I lie. In truth, I’m not bad at having blood drawn, but the thought of what the results might turn up is a little more than I am willing to deal with right now.

She makes pleasant conversation as she prepares me, drawing my arm onto my knee and telling me to relax as she swabs the area with some alcohol and picks a needle. She doesn’t mention the fact that I am very conspicuously here alone, much to my relief, because I don’t know if I would be able to deal with the fact that the father of this child has decided not to show up. I have no doubt that I’m going to have to deal with a whole lot more judgment about this as I start to become visibly pregnant, but I will deal with that when I come to it. At least I don’t have to worry about my parents finding out—God, I can only imagine the judgment they would heap on my head if they knew the mess that I had managed to find myself in.

Just then, the door opens, and my head whips around in shock. The nurse rises to her feet, the warmth of her tone entirely forgotten.

"Excuse me, this is a private appointment," she warns the intruder.

But all I can do is sit there dumbstruck, because the man standing in front of me is familiar—though he is the last person I ever thought I would see again.

"Ilya,” I say. “What the hell are you doing here?"

"I’m here about the baby."

"The baby?"

"There’s a baby, isn’t there?"

"Yes, but how do you⁠—"

I stop myself, turning to the nurse and offering her as sweet a smile as I can drum up, given the circumstances.

"Can you give us a minute?" I ask her, and she nods.

"Anything you need," she replies. I can tell she’s practically bubbling over with curiosity, but she does the professional thing and heads for the door, leaving me alone with Ilya.

"Now, are you going to explain to me what the hell is going on here?" I hiss at him. "I told Petar to come, not you! Did he send you in his place, or⁠—"

"I came here because that baby is mine."

I grasp the back of the chair for support, my legs threatening to give out underneath me. "What are you talking about?"

"That child," he tells me, lowering his gaze to my belly, though there is little there for him to see. "Is mine. I know it."

"That’s not true," I protest. "Petar and I, we were together the week of the gala. I know it’s his. It has to be."