Page 46 of Sin Wager
Positive.
The world seems to spin around me. I grip the bathroom counter, staring at the small window that's just changed my entire future. There's a baby growing inside me—Misha's baby. The thought should fill me with joy, but all I feel is cold fear.
Sonya will destroy me if she finds out. She'll use this pregnancy to bind me to her operation permanently, threatening not just Elvin's treatments but my child's safety. I'll become exactly what she wants—a desperate woman with too much to lose, willing to do anything to protect the people she loves.
I wrap the test in tissue and bury it deep in the trash can, beneath empty shampoo bottles and used tissues. Then I wash my hands thoroughly, scrubbing until my skin turns red, as though I can wash away what I've learned.
When I emerge from the bathroom, Elvin is awake, channel-surfing with the remote.
"Feel better?" he asks without looking at me.
"Much better." The lie comes easily. "Must have been something I ate."
"Good. You were starting to look green."
I settle into my chair and pretend to watch television, but my mind is racing. How long can I hide this? When will I start showing? What happens when Misha notices the changes in my body?
Part of me wants to tell him immediately. He's been protective, caring, promising to keep me safe from threats I don't even fully understand. Maybe he'd be happy about the baby. Maybe he'd see it as a reason to formalize our relationship, to offer the security I've been craving.
But another part of me remembers Batya's warnings, Elvin's observations about Misha's hidden depths. What if his protection comes with a price I don't understand yet? What if this pregnancy becomes another tool for manipulation, another way to control my choices?
"Vera?" Elvin's voice breaks through my spiraling thoughts.
"Yes?"
"You sure you're all right? You look… different."
"I'm fine." I force a smile. "Just tired."
He studies me for a moment, then nods. "If you say so. But maybe you should take better care of yourself. You know, eat better, get more sleep, all that healthy living stuff."
"I will."
The afternoon passes slowly. I help Elvin with his medication, prepare a light dinner that I can barely stomach, and count the hours until Batya returns home. And by evening, I've made a decision. This secret stays with me, at least for now. Until I understand what Misha really wants from me, until I know whether his protection is genuine or part of some larger game, I can't risk telling him about the baby.
18
MISHA
Iposition myself in the track office with a clear view of the employee parking lot, watching through the blinds as cars filter in for the morning shift. Vera's schedule puts her arrival at seven thirty, but I've been here since six, reviewing security footage and mapping today's surveillance plan.
Vera's blue Honda pulls into its usual spot, and I watch her emerge, adjusting the strap of her work bag across her shoulder. She moves differently than she did two weeks ago—slower, more cautious, with a careful way of holding herself that suggests discomfort. Stress, probably. The situation with Sonya has been wearing on her, despite my reassurances about protection.
She heads toward the stable entrance, following her normal route, but then stops near the feed delivery area. Her head turns, scanning the parking lot, and I see her shoulders tense.
A black sedan idles near the far corner of the lot—the same car I've seen parked outside her apartment building at times. I know it's Sonya's car.
Vera checks her phone, reads a message, then glances around again before changing direction. Instead of entering through the main stable doors, she walks toward the maintenance shedbehind building two. It's a route that takes her away from the security cameras, away from the usual foot traffic.
I grab my jacket and leave the office, moving quickly but staying out of sight. The maintenance shed is accessible through three different paths, and I choose the one that will give me the best vantage point without exposing my position.
By the time I reach the shed's rear corner, Vera is already inside. Through the grimy window, I can see her standing near the tool rack, her phone pressed to her ear. Her posture is rigid, defensive.
"I can't keep doing this." Her voice carries through the thin walls, sharp with strain. "Not after what happened to Pavel."
A pause, then her voice drops lower, but I can still make out the words.
"I understand the arrangement, but things have changed. There are people watching now, asking questions."
