Page 62 of Married to My Sis’s Bratva Fiancé

I nodded.

"We draw blood first," she said softly. "Try not to get yourself worked up before the results."

When the needle went in, I shut my eyes and told myself, over and over, it wouldn't be that. But under the denial lived a quieter voice—what if it was? Waiting stretched thin under the wall clock. Every little tick sounded like a dull blade scraping my nerves.

"Mrs. Morozova?"

My head snapped up.

The doctor stood in the doorway and smiled. "Come on in."

I sat at the desk, my knees almost knocking the edge. She confirmed my name and opened the report. Those seconds turned endless. I stared at the paper in her hands and barely dared to breathe.

"The blood test is positive," she said. "You are pregnant."

The world went dead silent.

I saw her lips moving, but for a few seconds I didn't hear anything.

Pregnant. Kiryan's baby. Our baby.

My hand fell to my stomach. Still no movement, still nothing—and yet a life had already changed everything without a sound. I pictured a tiny shape with gray eyes, and my heart went soft so fast it hurt. Heat stung behind my eyes.

"It is still very early," the doctor said, sliding the report toward me. "Any abdominal pain or bleeding?"

I shook my head.

"Is this a planned pregnancy?"

The edge of the paper bit into my palm. "I don't know."

I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. I didn't know if this baby would pull us closer or trap me deeper.

I didn't even know if I could be a good mother. I hadn't learned much gentleness from my own mother. My father had never chosen me with any kind of certainty. But the second my palm covered my belly, one thought rang sharp and clean: no matter what Kiryan chose, I wouldn't let this child grow up like me—shrinking to fit a world that didn't love them.

That resolve scared me. It also gave me strength for the first time.

The doctor went over follow-ups, rest, medication warnings. I tried to hold onto every word. When I walked out, it still felt like I was stepping on something soft. New York's lights glowed through the corridor windows. I pressed the report to my chest and didn't move for a long time.

A few days ago, I'd truly thought Kiryan was starting to accept me.

Those moments couldn't have all been fake. He lived on control, and he'd still sat naked in front of me for hours as my model. He'd said my work mattered. He'd held me like I belonged there.

A man could lie with words. It was harder to lie with his body. The way he'd held me, the breath at my mouth—none of it had been cold.

Maybe he just hadn't seen his own feelings yet. Maybe this baby could make him stop, look again at what we'd had, and finally see Isabella for what she was.

That hope was naive. It still lit up inside the dark.

I pulled up Kiryan's number. My thumb hovered over it, and every recent memory of being dismissed tried to stop me. But there it was on the report—my name with his last name, and beneath it a life that had just begun.

It was his child. He had the right to know. I couldn't take that from him because I was scared.

The phone rang twice before it connected.

"Kiryan." I clenched the report. "I have something really important to tell you."

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