Page 36 of Never Distract a Biker

The revelation of her pregnancy is a weight I didn’t anticipate, an uninvited guest in the chaos of my life. She’s carrying my child—a fact that defies logic and shakes the foundation of who I am.

"Viktor?" Yelena’s voice snaps me back to the present, her brows furrowing at my distraction.

"There’s something else you guys should know."

Alina tilts her head, curiosity sparking in her eyes. "What is it?"

I lean back in my chair, folding my arms over my chest. "Scarlett. The woman from the club that I questioned ... she’s pregnant. With my child."

The words taste foreign on my tongue, as if they don’t belong to me. I expect outrage, disbelief—maybe even scorn. But the room falls silent, the weight of my confession settling heavily over us all.

Alina’s brows shoot up, her mouth parting slightly in surprise. She exchanges a glance with Yelena, who looks just as stunned.

"Wait," Alina says, leaning forward. "A stripper is pregnant? With your child?"

I nod curtly, unwilling to elaborate.

Her expression shifts, skepticism replacing surprise. "How certain are you that it’s yours?" she asks, her tone cautious but probing.

"She was a virgin a few weeks ago," I state plainly, my voice devoid of doubt. "I’m the only man she’s been with."

“A virgin stripper?” Yelena scoffs. “Now I’ve seen it all.”

“She was there to raise money for her mother’s illness.”

Alina blinks, taken aback by my response. Her hands fidget with the edge of her sweater, a telltale sign of her inner turmoil. "And you trust her? You’re sure she’s not ... manipulating you somehow?"

"Scarlett has no reason to lie," I reply, my tone firm. "She didn’t even want me to know. She told me because she had no choice."

Yelena leans back in her chair, her arms crossed. "So, what now? You’re going to play house with a stripper?"

I glare at her, my jaw tightening. "Scarlett isn’t just a stripper. She’s innocent in all this, and she’s carrying my heir. That’s all you need to know."

My voice hardens, leaving no room for argument. "Scarlett stays under my protection. End of discussion."

Alina studies me, her expression softening as if she sees the weight I’m carrying. "You’re serious about this," she says, her voice quieter now.

"Damn right, I’m serious," I snap, though the anger isn’t directed at her. "Our father is dead, and now I have a child on the way. I won’t let anyone else in this family fall victim to the world we live in."

The room falls silent, the gravity of my words sinking in. Alina nods slowly, her skepticism giving way to understanding. Yelena, however, remains guarded, her lips pressed into a thin line.

"Fine," Yelena says at last, her tone clipped. "But don’t let this distract you from finding Dad’s killers."

"It won’t," I assure her. "But protecting Scarlett and the baby is now part of my mission. And I will not fail."

Scarlett

The bathroom tiles are cold against my knees, and the faint smell of disinfectant does nothing to mask the acrid taste in my mouth. My stomach churns violently, another wave of nausea threatening to empty what little is left. Morning sickness—though it seems relentless at all hours—is just another cruel reminder of the changes I never asked for.

I clutch the edge of the toilet, my breath shallow and uneven. Sweat slicks my forehead, and tears prick the corners of my eyes. The humiliation of being this vulnerable in a strange place worries me. I feel like I’m unraveling, piece by piece.

A soft knock echoes through the bathroom door. I don’t have the strength to answer, hoping whoever it is will leave me alone. But the door creaks open, and light footsteps approach cautiously.

"Are you okay?" The voice is gentle, feminine, and laced with concern.

I try to respond, but another heave cuts me off. My body betrays me as I retch again, emptying nothing but bile. I hear the shuffle of fabric, and then a warm hand presses against my back.

"It’s okay," the voice soothes, soft but steady. "Just breathe."

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