Page 52 of Forced By the Obsessed Bratva

The garden. I needed to get some fresh air.

I draped a robe over my body and slipped outside, teeth gritting from the morning cold air.

The sky was gray, thick clouds moving slowly over trees that bordered the estate. I walked around the perimeter, running my fingers along the tops of hedges and controlling my breathing with the hope that it would make the nausea go away.

In. Out. In. Out.

Still there. The tightness in my chest and the headache in my head. The strange, jittery jolt in my stomach that I couldn’t place.

When I returned to my room, my feet were damp and my arms cold. But that nagging sensation hadn’t gone away. If anything, it had gotten even stronger.

Three weeks had passed since Matvey and I had sex for the first time. My period was a week late. My breasts were swollen and sore, and—

Fuck, was I…?

No, that wasn’t possible. We hadn’t used a condom, but I wasn’t in my fertility window when we did it.

Still, a small part of me knew I had to make sure that wasn’t the case.

I made my way to the drawer and pulled it open. Then I took out a pregnancy test strip that the older maid had brought in earlier today.

She didn’t say anything when she delivered it; she just tucked it in, looked at me as if she already knew, and then walked away.

I sat on the edge of the bed, turning the thin box over in my palm as if it would snap, then I got up and rushed to the bathroom.

The lights were on, and the cold from the tiles seeped into my feet as I walked in barefoot.

I followed the instructions on the pack and waited with my heart pounding against my ribs as if it wanted to rip out of my chest.

Those two minutes were longer than any in my life.

I couldn’t hear anything other than the thud of my pulse in my ears, loud and insistent, counting down to something I wasn’t prepared for.

I didn’t look at first. I couldn’t, but when I did, my eyes widened in horror at the two pink lines.

Positive.

The room spun around me.

My knees almost gave way. I grabbed the counter to steady myself, my fingers numb and frozen on the marble. My breathing was shallow and raspy. My chest shook with fear.

No.

No, no, no.

This wasn’t happening. Not now. Not like this.

I hadn’t prepared for it. I hadn’t even let myself fantasize about it, and worst of all…part of me had known.

I fell to the ground, knees bent around me, still clutching the test in my hand as if it were a weapon that had turned against me.

I didn’t hear the door open until it was too late, and Matvey appeared in the doorway. He was still. Deadly in a way that had nothing to do with firearms.

His eyes swept the room, swept the unmade bed, the robe on the ground, and me on the bathroom floor with trembling hands and a sick twist in my stomach. His gaze flicked to my hand, and I quickly hid the test strip between my fingers.

His brows narrowed when his eyes returned to my face. “You okay?”

His voice was deep and gravelly. But there was something else behind it, an edge I couldn’t pin down. Something restrained.