Page 91 of Cinderella and the Daddy

I can tell she's trying to please me, probably terrified of what might happen if she disappoints the man who walked into her hospital covered in blood and making demands. The fear radiating from her should bother me, but right now I don't care about anything except seeing proof of what we've created together.

"Yes," I say immediately. "Absolutely yes."

Dr. Frost nods quickly and steps out to arrange for the equipment. Cindy catches my eye across the space between our beds.

"She's obviously scared of you,” she chides. “The other doctor said I would have an ultrasound around twenty weeks.

I shrug. Fear is a tool, and if it gets us better care and faster service, then I'm not going to apologize for it.

“I want it now,” I reply.

She rolls her eyes.

The ultrasound machine arrives ten minutes later, wheeled in by a technician who seems intent on minding their own business. Dr. Frost takes over the controls, adjusting settings and explaining what we're about to see.

"There," Dr. Frost says, pointing to what looks like a grainy blob in a sea of black and white static. "There's your baby."

I study the image, trying to make sense of what I'm seeing. It looks like nothing to me, just patterns of light and shadow that could be anything. But Cindy gasps, her hand flying to her mouth as her eyes fill with fresh tears.

"Oh my God," she whispers. "That's really... that's really our baby."

"Measuring perfectly for twelve weeks," Dr. Frost confirms, moving the probe to capture different angles. "Everything looks absolutely normal."

I'll take her word for it.

"You're very lucky to have such a caring husband," Dr. Frost tells her, finally relaxing enough to sound conversational instead of terrified.

Cindy opens her mouth—probably to correct the assumption—but then she catches my eye. I see the moment she makes her decision.

"Thank you," she says simply. "I know I am."

An hour later, we're finally discharged with a folder full of care instructions. Grigori is waiting in the parking garage with theSUV. The hospital had cut my shirt off. Cindy insisted I be given something to wear. So, I’m wearing a green scrub top.

It’s fucking humiliating.

"Boss," he says, opening the rear door for us. "Compound's still secure. Leo's asking for both of you."

The drive back to the compound passes in relative silence. Cindy rests her head on my good shoulder while she studies the ultrasound photos like they're precious artifacts.

The compound is in full lockdown when we arrive. Extra guards are posted, and every entrance is monitored. It looks like a fortress, which is exactly what I need it to be while Yuri Kozlov is still breathing and planning his next move.

"Get Leo," I tell Cindy as we enter the main house. "I'm sure he's worried sick."

She nods and heads toward the safe room, where Tony has been keeping him entertained with video games and junk food. I watch her go.

"Grigori," I call out once she's out of earshot. "My office. Now."

He follows me down the hall, his shoulders already set in resignation. He knows what's coming, knows that someone has to answer for tonight's clusterfuck.

I close the door behind us and turn to face the man who's supposed to be my most trusted lieutenant. "Talk."

"Boss, I?—"

"You lost her." My voice is deadly quiet. "The one job I gave you, the one thing that mattered more than anything else, and you fucking lost her."

"Yes, sir. I?—

"Excuses." I step closer, letting him feel the weight of my displeasure. "She was taken, tortured, and nearly killed because you weren't good enough at your job."