Page 60 of The Russian's Kidnapped Bride
Silence settles between us, feeling more painful than usual, and neither of us moves. It’s tense enough to drown in.
“I’m tired,” I whisper, looking away and finding it hard to even be near him. “Just…give me space. Please.”
Despite having every option to fight back against it and argue until he turns blue in the face, Mikhail just nods. Slowly, but decisively.
“I’ll be downstairs if you need anything.”
For once, he listens and does as I ask. Without another word, he walks out and softly closes the door behind him.
The moment I’m alone, I curl up beneath the blankets and try to find solace in the pillows. But the pain of that discovery persists.
My hand moves to my stomach absently, feeling nothing out of the ordinary. No bump or sign of life outside of my own. But it’s still real, even if I can’t see it yet.
I don’t know what kind of mother I’ll be, and I sure as hell don’t know how I’m going to navigate this world with a child.
One born into a family of criminals with dangerous enemies.
Chapter 20 - Mikhail
Sleep is hard to come by. Even in the dark of the guest room while Lily sleeps in the master, while the condo is entirely quiet around us, my mind won’t shut off. It’s entirely too full to rest.
I lie still for hours, watching the shadows shift and move across the ceiling.
I can’t think about anything but her and the baby.
My baby…ours.
That word echoes in my head again and again. I can’t shake the test results or the doctor’s words. Lily’s face when he said it, along with the disbelief and panic. The fear seemed entirely brand new to her.
Something in me assumes I should be terrified, too. I should be dreading the thought of taking care of a little one when I already have so much going on.
But beneath my shock, there’s a pulse of something else I wasn’t expecting to feel.
Excitement.
It still catches me off guard. Even if I’m trying to keep my head on straight through the reality of the situation, it has taken root, and I know it won’t let go.
I’ve been convinced of something existing between us that goes beyond the bounds of legality. I know that fire burns regardless of how Lily has been trying to ignore it.
But now, there’s tangible proof of it, and it’s growing in her stomach.
A child…a real child. It’s undeniable and irreversible.
When I finally pull myself out of bed, giving up on trying to sleep, it’s early. The penthouse is still bathed in dark grey hues while I walk across the hall and down the steps.
To my surprise, the smell of coffee hits me before I reach the kitchen. Sure enough, Lily’s already there, barefoot and wearing one of my shirts. It hangs just past her thighs with nothing underneath, and even through my exhaustion, it stirs something in me.
She doesn’t notice me at first while she focuses on pouring a cup of coffee like it’s the only thing that’ll get her through the rest of the day.
Her eyes eventually flick over to me, but she doesn’t say anything.
“Morning,” I say to test the waters.
She takes a moment, then repeats back to me, “Morning.”
When she puts the coffee pot down again, I cross the room slowly and keep my eyes on her. She doesn’t pull away or flinch, but her shoulders are still stiff. It almost looks like she’s prepared to run again, assuming this is something she can somehow get away with.
Standing beside her, I grab a mug and pour some for myself.
