The doctor’s office is smaller than I expected and more intimate than the sterile medical facilities I’m used to. I’ve owned Women’s Associates for three years, but this is my first time inside the building. From the property listing, I thought the spaces would be larger, but there’s something comforting about the human scale of everything here. Sabrina sits on the examination table in a hospital gown that dwarfs her frame, swinging her legs nervously while we wait for Dr. Price to return with the ultrasound equipment.
“You don’t have to stay for this part if it makes you uncomfortable,” she says, fidgeting with the edge of the gown.
I move my chair closer to the table. “I want to be here.”
“It might be weird. Seeing everything, I mean.”
“Sabrina.” I wait until she looks at me. “I want to be here for all of it. Every appointment, every milestone, every moment that matters—and I’ve seen everything by now anyway,” I add with a wink that makes her blush.
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 a ferocity 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—”
“I mean like a home.” The distinction matters more than I can explain. “Somewhere our daughter can grow up without armed guards at every entrance.”
Sabrina frowns slightly. “But your business—”
“Can be managed from anywhere.” The lie comes easily, though we both know it’s not entirely true. “I want her to have safety, stability, and a childhood that doesn’t involve learning to sleep through gunshots.”
She studies my face carefully, and I wonder what she sees there. After a long moment, she nods slowly, perhaps understanding what I’m so clumsily conveying. “Okay. We can look at properties. Maybe something with a good school district nearby.”
The casual way she says “we” does something to my chest that I don’t want to examine too closely. She’s not just agreeing to let me provide a house for our daughter. She’s agreeing to build a life together, to be a family in ways that go beyond shared custody and polite cooperation. “Private school. It’s more secure.”
She shrugs. “As long as it’s not repressive to her creativity, and she isn’t living there, I’m willing to consider the idea.”
I smile for a moment, imagining quiet future discussions about our daughter’s education, friends, hobbies, and interests. Longing for that simplicity fills me as I take a breath, knowing my next words will sound like weakness to anyone in my world, but not to her. “There’s something else. I’ve been thinking about stepping back from certain aspects of my work.”
“What kind of aspects?” she asks quietly, looking almost hopeful.
I speak bluntly. “The kind that require me to be away for days at a time or put me in situations where I might not come home.”
She’s quiet for a long moment, processing. When she speaks, her voice is careful. “You’re talking about retiring?”
“Not immediately or all at once, but eventually, yes.” I reach for one of the ultrasound photos, studying the perfect profile of our daughter. “I can’t be the kind of father she needs if I’m constantly looking over my shoulder for enemies.”
She watches me trace the outline of the baby’s face with my finger. “What would you do instead?”
“Legitimate business ventures. Investments…” I trail off, not wanting to be too specific about the illegal activities I’d be leaving behind.
She nods with understanding. “Instead of whatever it is you do now.”
“Yes.”
Her expression grows more serious. “Can you just walk away? Will the people you work with just let you retire to the suburbs and coach little league?”
Her questions are fair, and they highlight problems I haven’t fully worked out yet. Walking away from my current life won’t be simple or safe. There will be people who see my withdrawal as weakness and others who view it as betrayal. Some will try to use my family against me, viewing them as leverage to force me back into the game, but none of that changes my determination to try.
I meet her gaze directly. “I’ll figure it out. Whatever it takes to give our daughter a normal life, I’ll make it happen.”
“Even if it means giving up everything you’ve built?” she asks softly.
“What I’ve built isn’t worth preserving if it puts her in danger.”
She reaches over and takes my hand, sounding like she’s near tears when she speaks again. “Our daughter is lucky to have you.”
The simple statement means more than any declaration of love could. She’s not saying she cares about me or that she wants a future together. She’s saying I’ll be a good father, which somehow matters more than any romantic sentiment at the moment.
I squeeze her hand gently. “I hope so.”
“I know so. I’ve seen how you take care of people you care about, like the way you protected me, and the way you’ve made sure Jessie is safe even though you barely know her. Our daughter will never doubt she’s loved.”
I want to tell her I love her too, moved to blurt it out, but I hold back. Sabrina doesn’t seem ready to hear such words from me, and I’m not sure I want to utter them. I can’t deny I’m in love with her, at least as much as I can love anyone, but how do I show that or prove that? It’s better to maintain my silence for the moment until I figure out those details.
That night, after we’ve returned to the estate and Sabrina has gone to bed early with a stack of pregnancy books, I sit in my study and call Maksim.
“How did the appointment go?” he asks after answering.
“It’s a girl.” I’m beaming as I say that.
I can hear the smile in his voice. “Congratulations. I assume everything else was normal?”
“Perfect. The baby’s healthy, Sabrina’s healthy, and everything is progressing exactly as it should.”
“Good. That’s a relief.” His tone shifts slightly. “You sound different though.”
I lean back in my chair, staring out at the gardens where security lights illuminate the grounds in carefully planned patterns. “I’ve been thinking about making some changes.”
“What kind of changes?” His voice is cautious now.
“Stepping back from active operations and delegating more responsibility. Eventually, I’ll be transitioning to purely legitimate business ventures.” The silence on the other end of the line stretches long enough that I wonder if the call has dropped. “Maksim?”
“I’m here. Just processing what you’re telling me.” His voice is carefully neutral. “You’re talking about retirement.”
“Not right away, but yes, eventually.”
He lets out a long breath. “Because of the baby?”
“Because of my family.” The word feels foreign on my tongue, but also right in ways I hadn’t expected. “I can’t raise a daughter in this world, Maksim. I won’t have her grow up thinking violence is normal, and fear is just part of life.”
“And you think you can just walk away after everything you’ve built, leaving behind everyone who depends on you?” The questions echo Sabrina’s concerns but coming from Maksim they carry additional weight because he understands in a way she can’t. He knows better than anyone how dangerous it can be to show weakness in our world, and how quickly allies can become enemies when they sense vulnerability.
I rub my temples. “I’ll transition slowly. Put safeguards in place and make sure everyone who works for me is taken care of.”
“That’s not what I’m worried about, and you know it.” His voice carries years of shared experience.
He’s right. The real danger won’t come from my own people, but from enemies who see my withdrawal as an opportunity to strike and from rivals who view my desire for a peaceful life as proof that I’ve gone soft. “I’ll handle the security concerns as they arise.”
Maksim makes a sound of frustration. “By hiding in some suburban fortress for the rest of your life?”
“By being smart about how I extract myself from situations that could put my family at risk.”
He sighs, and I can picture him rubbing his temples the way he does when he’s trying to solve an impossible problem. “What do you need from me?”
“Time to figure this out, support while I transition, and your word that you’ll help me keep them safe no matter what happens.”
“You have all of that. You’ve always had all of that.” His voice softens with something like affection.
“Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet. Wait until we see if this is actually possible.”
After we hang up, I sit alone in the darkness and think about the ultrasound photos tucked away in my desk drawer. They’re proof of my daughter’s existence, her perfect innocence, and her complete lack of awareness that her existence has already changed everything about my priorities.
I don’t know if it’s possible to build the kind of life I want for her, or if I can successfully transition from the man I’ve been to the man I need to become, but I have to try. The alternative of raising her in a world where violence is always just beneath the surface is unacceptable.
She deserves better than that. They both deserve a normal, safe, and happy life.
I’ll do whatever it takes to give it to them.
