This was not how I wanted to tell him.
I swallowed hard, hating the clench of my stomach as dread and anxiety mixed within me.
I stared at Maxim and willed him not to be mad. Not to get angry at the fact that I’d known I was carrying his baby and hadn’t told him. Not to be furious that I had kept anything from him at all.
Trust was an issue for him.
He’d been upfront about not wanting to trust me and being unable to commit to me. It had started to feel like he’d already been committing to me and caring about us, and I had to be the one to unravel and ruin that illusion.
Instead of reacting, he turned to stone. Not flinching, no budging at all, he adapted a stony mask. That blankness startled me, and I realized I’d never feared a man more than I did in this moment.
It was as though he’d dropped into himself, walling me out, and it wasn’t somewhere I wanted to be.
“Get in the car.” He bit it out in a stern order, using enough rage in his icy tone that I wasn’t going to dupe myself into thinking he was merely shocked about this. He was livid, so furious that something sinister might have snapped in him.
I didn’t try to argue. I could’ve run when that fight started, but escaping hadn’t even crossed my mind.
The last time I was removed from the world like this, he’d taken me when I had fainted from exhaustion.
This time? I willingly obeyed, belatedly proving I really could be his good girl and listen to his orders. There was no need for him to capture me and force me back under his control. I was already under it. I was willing to stay with him regardless of the fact that he’d kidnapped me in the beginning.
Deep in my heart, I knew that I would always gravitate toward him like this. I would always choose to stay with him because when I’d least expected it, he’d prompted me to want him. To need him.
And to love him.
I blinked, holding back the tears that threatened at the idea of his being so furious with me. The thought that he could hate that I’d hidden such a big thing from him.
He spoke to his men after I climbed into the backseat, but his words were muffled with the door closed after me. I doubted I’d hear them anyway. The buzzing in my ears accompanied my panic and dread. Guilt swamped me so severely that my chest felt tight and my skin tingled with a sensation of being too taut.
When he got into the car, he didn’t speak. He didn’t look at me. Glaring straight ahead, he kept a distance between us and didn’t reach out to me.
Of course, he wouldn’t hold my hand now. That illusive companionship we’d shared before that moment was shattered and lost.
Tense on the ride back to his house, I did my best not to drown under the fearful what-ifs. I tried to dispel the anxiety of the unknowns. And I attempted to swallow down every impulse to blurt out an apology for not telling him sooner.
You should have.
You knew you should’ve told him.
You shouldn’t have ever tried to keep this a secret.
But I had. Because until the idea of love whispered to my soul, I had been so afraid that telling him that I was pregnant would mean he wouldn’t desire me anymore. Because until I considered that we were committing without labeling it, I had been so scared that I was nothing more than an expendable thing to release and cast away once I handed over my child to him.
Dreading his reaction once we were back to his building, I resisted the horrible visions in my mind.
Now that he knew, I’d be moved out of his apartment and shoved into a guest room for more isolation.
That now that he knew, I’d be expected to stay as a broodmare and then be kicked out once I gave birth.
He didn’t speak once we were parked in a huge garage. Following his silent lead and that of the Ivanov guards with us, I got out of the car when the door was opened. Then I trudged along behind him as I was directed back into the house.
On the way up in the elevator, silence reigned between us. Without any soldiers or guards in the elevator car, the angst and anger felt heavier, like the air was just too thick to fully breathe well.
The doors slid open, and I followed him into his apartment. As he loosened his tie, he cracked his neck and drew in a deep breath of air, as if he had to steady himself.
“Sit.”
I didn’t ask where. It hardly mattered. After I dropped onto the couch, I wrung my hands together and stared at him as he paced. And paced some more.
“You knew and didn’t think to tell me?” He didn’t stop, biting out that harsh accusation and question as he paced.
“I wasn’t sure how to tell you,” I admitted, hating how nervous I sounded.
I was stronger than this.
But I was also a pathetic coward. I had to be one if it took me this long to come clean.
“How can you even know?” He shot me a scathing look. “You haven’t taken a test. You haven’t had symptoms or…” He shook his head. “I was just planning to order tests since you’d been here for a month.”
“I did take a test.”
He stopped short and tilted his head, studying me intensely. “Do not fucking lie to me. No one in this building would’ve provided you with a test and kept it a secret from me.”
I licked my lips, knowing I couldn’t hide any longer. It all had to come out now. My silly idea to pretend he’d knocked me up since kidnapping me wouldn’t have ever worked.
“Before.”
He didn’t move, intimidating me with the fury burning in his dark eyes. “Before?”
“I took a test before. Before that night when you showed up at the club.”
Blinking quickly, he showed the first sign of being surprised now. “Before—”
“That night when we first met and I…” I cleared my throat, hating the threat of tears burning in my eyes. He was aloof and mad, but that wasn’t what made me so emotional and uncharacteristically close to tears now. It was me. My guilt. I hated myself for ever losing his trust before he’d even given it to me.
“That night when I danced for you in the private room and thanked you for saving me from those men. That’s when…” I held my hands out, gesturing abstractly like an idiot. “That’s when you knocked me up.”
“All this fucking time…” he growled.
I nodded. “I was pregnant before you kidnapped me.”
He dropped back into pacing, as if he’d go insane if he didn’t move. “How do you know it’s mine?”
I narrowed my eyes, hating how cruel he was. “Because you’re the only man I’ve had sex with in a year.”
“You were pregnant when I kidnapped you.” It should’ve been a question but he stated it hotly as if he had to confirm it verbally.
“Yes. I think, no, I know that’s why I was so weak that night. I was so hungry and tired and thirsty and I couldn’t manage dancing that many nights in a row. That’s why I was staggering on the stage and why Lenny was mad at me for not performing as I should have. And when…” I cleared my throat again, needing to clear the thick emotion that had me so clogged up and awkward. “When you came and saw him hitting me and then killed him, I passed out, and I’ve been here since.”
“You’ve been here all this time and didn’t think to fucking tell me?”
I lifted my chin, scolding myself for the hint of tears. I had to stay strong, dammit. I’d been so nervous guessing how he’d react, and here I had my proof. He was mad. No dreams of love could last now.
Stubborn and determined to stay protective of my child, I looked him dead in the eye. “Yes. I’ve been here all this time and wouldn’t tell you. I couldn’t until I had a clue of what would happen.”
He seethed, staring me down.
“It was the only leverage I had when you stripped me of my freedom. It was the only power I had as your fucking broodmare, Maxim. I didn’t want to tell you because you kidnapped me and controlled me so easily that I feared you’d do the same to him or her.” Covering my stomach with my hand seemed like such a feeble afterthought, but the principle remained the same. I would still block him from this baby if it meant he’d take him or her away from me.
“Will you?” I demanded with every ounce of anger I had. “Will you take this baby from me once I’ve delivered?”
“Don’t even think about fucking negotiating or playing mind games with me right now,” he warned in a deep growl.
I stood, not cowering any longer. I’d shown my hand, and I had to deal with it now. So why not face him directly and be as strong as possible?
“I’m not.” I shook my head. “I’m not playing games or negotiating. Despite not knowing how you’d react, I planned to tell you about the baby the night that alarm went off. I just want to know what will happen now. You won’t commit to me. You don’t place any other value or purpose on me, just whether I can give you this heir you want so badly. Will you take my child from me? Will you kick me out and dismiss me after I’ve given you what you want—the only thing you want since you don’t fucking want me?” I stabbed my finger at my chest for unnecessary emphasis, feeling so damn dumb now. In hindsight, I was such a fool to ever wonder if he could be in love with me and see me as something more than just a woman to knock up.
I hated how I’d let my stupid heart lead me astray like this. Only a moron would daydream about being in love with a Mafia boss. I couldn’t even trust him to care about me at all to know that he wouldn’t take my child from me.
Without trust, love didn’t stand a chance.
And with him, there wasn’t a smidgen of hope for us.
Staring him down, I felt every thudding beat of my heart. It was banging so wildly after defying him like this. To put him on the spot and lay out what I was so afraid of. My guilt hadn’t eased at all, but in the face of explaining how stuck I’d felt, it no longer mattered.
I’d done the best I could for myself and the future of this baby.
It wasn’t my fault that he hadn’t decided to hint that he could care about me.
As I watched him, every second passing heavier than the previous one, tangible tension bubbled and yawned as a wider gap grew between us.
More than anything, I hated myself for starting to love him when it was now so obvious that all he really had wanted from me in the end was sex. He’d manipulated me to care, to believe that he could change and come to realize that we were good together, even out of bed.
The longer it took him to react and reply, I knew it was over.
I had my answer now.
He hadn’t shifted at all. In the beginning, I’d asked him why. Why me? Why do this like this?
Not once did he lie. He wanted an heir, and that was it.
“You’ve served your purpose,” he finally said at last, breaking the tense silence with that cold, harsh statement.
Before turning from me, he lifted his head and looked down at me.
“I’ll arrange for the necessary medical provisions.”
And then he left.
He walked right out of the room, dismissing me and taking my broken heart with him.
