Page 102 of Bratva Bidder

“Thank you for coming back,” he says, folding his hands. “We’ve gone over Nikolai’s test results again, and Dr. Rhodes was very helpful with his notes. We went over our clinical notes together and…I’m afraid we’ve confirmed something serious.”

My fingers curl into my lap.

Konstantin shifts beside me. He’s leaning forward already, body braced.

“What is it?” I ask, quietly.

Dr. Halberd’s gaze meets mine, and I know—I know—he’s about to change our lives.

“He has a condition called X-linked Severe Combined Immunodeficiency with Cardiomyopathy. It’s extremely rare. It affects the development of the immune system and causes significant heart dysfunction. The genetic mutation is passed down through the X chromosome, typically from a carrier mother to a son.”

My mouth goes dry.

But then the doctor glances at Konstantin.

“What’s unusual here,” he continues, “is the presence of a very specific gene marker in Nikolai’s bloodwork. It’s part of a mutation cluster we don’t usually see in maternal inheritance. It’s dominant, and it appears to have come from the paternal side.”

Konstantin’s face goes completely still. “You’re saying…he got this from me?”

The doctor’s pause is brief. Calculated. “It’s highly probable that it runs in your family. We’ve seen similar patterns in Eastern European lineages—rare, but documented. If your family has a history of early male mortality or unexplained heart failure, it’s possible it was never caught.”

“I did this to my son,” Konstantin says, his voice barely above a whisper.

My head snaps toward him.

He’s pale. The kind of pale that doesn’t come from shock, but guilt. His knuckles are white on the arms of the chair, and his jaw flexes once, hard.

“It’s not the time to despair,” Dr. Halberd says gently. “This isn’t the end. It’s just the beginning of treatment.”

“What does that mean?” I ask, trying to steady my voice.

“It means we need to run a full genetic panel. For both of you,” he says, nodding to me and Konstantin. “We have to determine who’s the closest match to Nikolai for a bone marrow transplant.”

My blood runs cold. “A transplant?”

“Yes. It’s urgent. His immune system is already showing signs of compromise, and we need to get ahead of this. We’re not just treating symptoms anymore. We need to replace his marrow entirely to rebuild his immunity and manage the cardiac degeneration.”

Konstantin doesn’t speak. He doesn’t move.

“And Mila?” I ask, my voice breaking slightly. “You said she’d have to be tested too?”

“Yes,” he says. “Siblings are often good candidates, especially fraternal twins. We’ll take a painless swab from her today.”

“I’ll do it,” I say immediately.

“I’ll do it too,” Konstantin says, voice tight.

The doctor gives a firm nod. “Good. I’ll have the nurse draw the samples today. I’ve already flagged the lab. We’ll expedite everything.”

I glance toward the window, where the twins are stacking plastic blocks and making little explosion noises. Nikolai is laughing. He doesn’t know what’s coming.

I’m not sure I do either.

The hallway smells like antiseptic and something sterile, artificial—too clean to feel safe. Mila is in the nurse’s care for her test, and Nikolai is with the pediatric techs, coloring in a chair with a blanket draped over his knees like it’s some kind of armor. He doesn’t understand what’s happening, not really.

Konstantin and I sit on one of the narrow benches outside the lab. Not touching. Not talking. Just…waiting. We’ve already given our samples to be tested. It hurt a bit, but it’s nothing compared to what Nikolai is going through.

I twist my fingers in my lap, unable to stop replaying the doctor’s words.