Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 63638 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63638 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
“Boy or girl, they are going to be the most spoiled baby in all of New York!” she squeals, handing the envelope back to me. “At least by me. And, I’m guessing, by Dad? Or have you not told him yet?”
There it is. Her tone stays playful, but worry flickers beneath it, matching the knot in my own gut. I drop my gaze to the swirls of foam in my drink.
“I’m going to tell him soon,” I say into my coffee, unable to meet her gaze.
Mia sighs. “Nicole.” The single word is almost chastising.
“I know,” I say quickly. “I know, okay? But this isn’t something I can just slip into conversation or blurt out during sex. This is huge news, and I have no idea how it might affect us.”
“Exactly,” she says, eyes steady. “You don’t know. But I guarantee that letting him figure it out on his own when you’re suddenly in maternity-wear is not the way.”
I nod but stay silent. She’s right, of course. And now that we have some semblance of a real relationship, it’s all that much more complicated. There’s more at stake if the news lands badly.
“I’m scared,” I admit, absently stirring my drink.
Mia reaches across the table and covers my hand with hers.
“I know.” Her voice is gentle. “But the longer you wait, the harder it’s going to be. What if he finds out from someone else?”
The thought twists my stomach worse than any morning sickness.
“I don’t want to lose him,” I whisper.
“Then trust him,” she says simply. “If he’s worth all of this, he’ll understand.”
I nod again, more to reassure myself than her. “I’ll tell him soon,” I promise.
She squeezes my hand, then settles back in her chair. “Good. And for what it’s worth, it sounds like he really cares about you.”
“I think he does too.” I smile faintly.
We sit in easy silence, watching the world slip past the window. It’s strange to be back in the heart of the city after hiding away in Sergei’s mansion for so long. I miss the constant buzz, yet I’m starting to enjoy the quiet. I wonder if I’ll miss Sergei’s place just as much when I inevitably have to leave.
Before I can say a word, a sharp crack splits the air outside. I freeze, my heart slamming into my ribs. Another one follows, sharper this time, and people around us gasp, some already ducking beneath tables.
My breath catches as I instinctively reach for Mia, dragging her down with me under our table. People scream and cry. Chairs clatter. The barista dives behind the counter, and someone yells for the police.
Mia grips my hand tightly, her eyes wide with panic.
“Are they shooting at the café?” she whispers.
“I don’t think so,” I whisper back, straining to hear what’s happening outside. My ears ring, and my heart thunders.
Footsteps pound the sidewalk, shouts erupt—then the commotion fades, moving away. Eventually, the shooting stops, and we all peek out from under our hiding spots. Police cruisers scream past the café, and it finally feels safe enough to emerge.
I release the breath I’ve been holding and slowly sit up, my muscles trembling. Mia follows, her expression still pale and shaken.
“What the hell was that?” she asks, still breathless. “I swear, this city gets worse every day.”
“I know.” I rub a hand over my face, as if I can scrub away the unease coiling in my gut.
The feeling has been nibbling at the edges of my mind for weeks ever since I met Sergei. Anytime danger so much as brushes my senses, I think of him. I can’t help wondering if he’s involved somehow, if I’m about to be dragged into something ugly. It feels paranoid, but that’s where my mind goes when he refuses to tell me what he really does.
Mia and I sit in stunned silence, letting the adrenaline drain from our systems. Around us, people start to get up, checking on one another, talking in low voices. Someone starts laughing hysterically, fear curdling into something absurd. We all feel the weight of it.
“Do you want to get out of here?” Mia asks, setting her coffee down and eyeing it with sudden distaste. “I just want to crawl into bed and hide under a blanket.”
“Me too,” I admit. “You okay?”
“Fine,” she says quietly, standing up. “That was just a lot.”
I stand up too and give her a long, hard hug.
“Call me the second you get home,” I say. “I need to know you’re safe.”
“I will,” she promises, and I watch her walk out, then text my driver that I’m ready to leave.
23
SERGEI
It’s not even noon and already I’ve had to call in two cleanup crews, one emergency contact at the precinct, and a favor from a man I swore I’d never owe again. All because Semion is hell bent on goading me into a war.