Page 50 of Bratva Boss's Secret Baby

She nods and visibly relaxes. The doctor arrives, introduces herself to me, and does the physical exam while asking questions before saying, “Let me get the ultrasound machine.” Hearing those words makes me nervous and excited.

Soon, Dr. Price returns wheeling in the ultrasound machine. “This is your first ultrasound together?” she asks as she prepares the equipment.

“Yes.” The word catches in my throat, coming out huskily.

Dr. Price smiles warmly at both of us. “Well, you’re in for a treat. The pregnancy is at sixteen weeks now, so we should get some excellent images of the baby. We can usually tell gender by now. If not, we’ll try again at the twenty-week detailed anatomy exam.”

Sabrina lies back on the table and unsnaps some of the closures on the front of her gown, exposing the gentle curve of her belly. Dr. Price applies gel to the transducer and presses it against Sabrina’s skin, moving it slowly as grainy images appear on the monitor. “There we are,” says the doctor with a smile. “Let me just...”

The image shifts, becomes clearer, and suddenly, I’m looking at the profile of a tiny human being. I see perfect features in miniature, delicate limbs moving in slow motion, and a spine like a string of pearls curved in impossible grace.

Sabrina gasps softly beside me. “That’s our baby,” she whispers, her voice thick with wonder.

I can’t speak, breathe, or do anything but stare at the screen where my child moves and grows, completely unaware their father is a man who’s killed more people than he can count.

“And here’s the heartbeat,” says Dr. Price, adjusting a dial.

The rapid, strong, and unmistakably alive sound fills the room. Each beat hammers against my chest like a physical blow, and I have to grip the edge of the examination table to keep from swaying. This is real. This tiny person is real, half of their DNA comes from me, and they’re depending on both Sabrina and me to keep them safe in a world that’s more dangerous than they’ll ever understand.

Dr. Price continues her examination, taking measurements. “Heartbeat looks excellent. Growth is right on track, and all the major organs are developing normally. Everything looks perfect.”

I watch Sabrina’s face as she stares at the monitor, tears streaming down her cheeks in silent amazement. She reaches for my hand without looking away from the screen, and when her fingers intertwine with mine, my chest constricts.

Dr. Price pauses in her measurements and looks at both of us. “Would you like to know the gender? Baby’s in a good position today, so I can tell with reasonable confidence.”

Sabrina looks at me, eyebrows raised in question. We discussed this beforehand and decided we wanted to know, but now that the moment is here, I find myself hesitating.

“Yes,” Sabrina says when I don’t immediately respond. “I want to know.”

“I…think so…” I do want to know, but I’m almost afraid to discover it at the same time. This child will transform every aspect of my life, and I don’t know if I want to savor the surprise or delay the inevitable. If it seems real now, it will be so much realer when I know if I’m having a son or a daughter.

Dr. Price nods and continues her examination. “It’s surprisingly common for parents to be split on the decision. I’ll write it down for you. That way you can look together when you’re ready, or if you’re planning a gender-reveal party…”

Twenty minutes later, we’re sitting in the back of my car with a sealed envelope between us. Viktor is upfront, but the privacy screen is up, separating us. The ultrasound photos are scattered across the seat between us in a collection of profile shots and close-ups that make the reality of our child impossible to deny.

Sabrina turns the envelope over in her hands nervously. “Are you ready, or do you want to wait?”

I’m still a little ambivalent about learning already, but it’s clear she’s eager to know, so I nod, and my heart is beating almost as fast as our baby’s was on the monitor.

She opens the envelope and unfolds the paper inside, reading silently for a moment before her face breaks into a radiant smile. “It’s a girl.” Her voice is soft with amazement. “We’re having a daughter.”

I stare at the paper in her hands, though the words blur together as a thousand instincts detonate at once. A daughter. My daughter. The weight of it crashes over me like a tidal wave, crushing every violent instinct I’ve built a life on.

In my world, daughters are precious beyond measure and vulnerable beyond comprehension. They’re protected with aferocity that borders on obsession and sheltered from realities that could destroy their innocence. They’re also targets—weapons that enemies use against the men who love them.

I think about Yaroslav, and how he used to talk about having children someday. He wanted sons who could carry on the family name and daughters he could spoil and protect. He never got the chance to have either.

“Nikandr?” Sabrina’s voice sounds concerned. “Are you okay?”

I look at her and see my daughter’s mother wiping tears from her cheeks with quiet wonder. She’ll teach our child how to be kind and compassionate and good in a world that rewards none of those qualities and seems undaunted by the prospect.

Something ancient and protective locks into place in my chest, stronger than anything I’ve ever felt before. This isn’t just about keeping them safe anymore. This is about building a life where my daughter never has to know that her father once made his living through violence. I clear my throat, forcing the words out. “I want to secure another property.”

Sabrina blinks in surprise. “Another property? The estate is large enough?—”

I interrupt, struggling to explain. “Something quieter, more permanent, and away from the city.”

She tilts her head, studying my expression. “You mean like a house? I’m confused, because your current house is?—”

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