Page 66 of Married to My Sis’s Bratva Fiancé

I still took the paper. "I'll watch her. Whatever tests she needs—schedule all of it."

After the doctor left, the door shut with a soft click.

"The baby can only be yours," Isabella said first.

She kept her eyes on her belly. "I went to parties. Other men walked me back to my room. But I didn't let anyone touch me. After I left New York, you were all I could think about."

My brain started lining up dates. Before she left, she'd still been my fiancée. We'd been intimate, the way engaged couples were. If it was early, the timing didn't clash.

But tonight, for the first time, I didn't reach for belief like it was the default.

The hidden video. The wrong photo. The way she'd pressed up against me the moment she'd heard Elena's voice. One by one, they cut across my mind. Each thing alone could be explained. Together, they looked like a row of coincidences that lined up a little too clean.

My gaze dropped to the hand covering her belly. A child. My child.

Joy never showed up.

What came first was a weight—heavy enough to choke on.

My father's cold face rose up from memory. When my mother had been sick, he'd been at another woman's side. When she'd been cornered and broken, he couldn't even be bothered to look. I hated him for it. I'd sworn I'd never be him.

But if I acknowledged the baby and still let him grow up waiting, I wasn't any different. And if I ended my marriage for the baby, then Elena became another woman I left in the dark.

If this child had been conceived before I married, he hadn't done a damn thing wrong. Whether I was ready or not, whether it threw both families into chaos, I didn't get to toss him aside.

"I'll take responsibility," I said. "You'll have the best OB. I'll set up a place for you to live, a driver, security, a nurse around the clock. When the baby's born, there'll be a separate trust, the best schools, and Morozov protection."

Isabella shook her head, and tears finally spilled. "You think I want a house and money?"

"I'm telling you you won't be short on anything."

"Anything." She repeated it, bitter laughter tugging at her mouth. "An account. A couple bodyguards. A father who shows up by appointment. When the kid grows up, what am I supposed to say? That his father gave him everything—except a home?"

Every word hit the one place I couldn't dodge.

"I'll be in his life. He won't be without a father."

"But he'll be without a whole family." She looked down at her belly. "I don't want him to end up like us. He should wake up with his mom and dad there. He shouldn't get punished for grown-ups' mistakes the minute he's born."

The crash. The wounds. The baby dropped into the same night—enough to break anyone's control.

"I'm sorry." My voice came out rough.

"I don't want to use the baby to ask you for anything, and I don't want to fight with Elena again. But she ruined everything." Isabella's words sped up, heated. "She knew we were getting married and she still walked into your room. She pushed me out. She put on the wedding dress that was supposed to be mine. Now we are even having a baby, and she is still sitting in the Mrs. Morozova seat."

For a second, the hatred on her face looked like a stranger wearing her skin. When she said Elena's name, something crawled up my spine—pure discomfort. I told myself it was the accident, the pregnancy, the shock. I still couldn't keep the doubt from rising.

"I'll give you and the baby everything you need," I said again, because it was all I could offer.

"But you are already married." Her voice cracked. "The person you go home to every day is Elena. I am supposed to live in some place you bought, while our child waits for his father to show up once in a while?"

"My marriage to Elena isn't that important," I heard myself say. "It won't change what I owe my child."

"If there's no love, then end it." Isabella grabbed my hand and pressed it to her flat stomach. "I know it isn't fair to Elena. But the baby didn't do anything wrong. I'm not asking you to love me the way you used to. Just—for the baby—give us a home. Okay?"

Under my palm, I felt nothing. Still, it was like I held two different lives at once.

On one side, the child I'd sworn I would never abandon.