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“You’re pregnant.”
My world stops.
Everything I know. Everything I’ve built. Everything I’ve fought for. Suspended in that single moment.
Chapter thirty-two
Alessa
Iwaitforthedoctorto throw his head back and laugh at his sick joke.
He doesn’t. So, I wait some more, my heart pounds against my chest like it’s trying to break free.
“I’m sorry, what?” It’s Dominic who breaks the pregnant silence.
Pregnant.
The word echoes in my mind, suddenly taking on a whole new meaning.
My hands remain locked in his, his grip tightening like he’s afraid I might shatter if he lets go. And honestly, I might.With the cocktail of painkillers swimming through my system, everything feels like I’m underwater, sounds muffled, vision blurring at the edges. All I want is solid ground.
“You’re pregnant, Ms. Russo,” the doctor repeats with clinical detachment. No smile. No laugh. Because this isn’t a joke, is it? “Your blood work just came back and your hCG levels are higher than what we’d normally expect. That usually only means one thing…you’re pregnant. But we’ll do further tests to confirm.”
“Let’s do that,” I manage, my voice a stranger’s. The words feel mechanical, disconnected from the chaos erupting inside me.
“Alright. I’ll order another blood test to make sure you really are expecting and we can estimate how far along you are. Then we’ll get you an ultrasound and a consultation, and we can discharge you before the day ends.”
I can’t form words as I stare at my hand, riddled with IV needles. I’ve survived my mother’s death, my father’s betrayal, a bombing, a gunshot wound—and somehow maintained my composure through it all. But this? This news hits differently. Not a wound I can bandage or a threat I can outrun.
A baby. A life growing inside me right now.
Sure, I’ve thought about having children someday in that distant, hypothetical future—the same way people think about retirement or writing a novel. But now? While I’m literally in a hospital bed from a gunshot wound? While I’m sleeping with a man who kidnapped me? While my father is being huntedby the most dangerous organization in the country? The timing couldn’t be worse if it tried.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see the doctor and nurse leave. The door closing with a soft click that somehow feels deafening. Only then do I look up, a warm tear escaping before I can stop it.
“What the fuck.” I sob, my voice cracking. “I–I–wh-what the actual fuck.”
Dominic rises from the bed suddenly, my body swaying at the unexpected absence of his warmth. The hollow ache returns immediately. He moves to the duffel bag at the entryway, tossing it onto the chair against the wall. At least he’s not breaking things. That’s something.
Whatever this is between us—it started as mutual attraction mixed with Stockholm syndrome in the world’s most fucked-up meet-cute. Now it’s something more complicated, something I don’t have words for yet. But a baby? That’s throwing gasoline on a fire we’ve barely started.
Dominic paces in front of me, craning his neck backward, wiping his mouth with one hand. My eyes follow him, the doctor’s words still ringing in my ears.
You’re pregnant.
I’m pregnant.
With Dominic’s child.
And just like that, I have something irreplaceable to lose.
Not just me looking out for myself anymore. A tiny life I’ll be responsible for. Their safety. Their health. Their future. Every decision I make from now on affects someone else who can’t protect themselves.
I’m going to be a mother.
And Dominic—he’s going to be a father. Just as he’s cementing his place in the Commission, he’ll have to balance that life with something equally important—our child. He’ll need to split his time, not just between power plays and business, but with the little person who’s going to need him. I refuse to have our child grow up feeling like an afterthought. Whether he realizes it or not, this changes everything.
“I’m so sorry.” The words tumble out unbidden as more tears blur my vision. I blame the medication, the shock, the hormones—anything but the fear that he’ll reject us both.