Page 50 of Her Darkest Possession

"A girl wouldn't be safe either," I finish for her.

She nods against my shoulder. "Not in this world. Not in our world."

Her words cut deeper than she knows. It's another reminder of my failure—that despite all my power, all my resources, I still can't guarantee her safety completely. What kind of father will I be if I can't even protect the mother of my child?

"Boy or girl," I say firmly, tilting her chin up so she meets my eyes, "our baby will be protected. I swear it."

She smiles, but there's still worry behind her eyes. I need to give her something concrete, something to plan for.

"We'll need to start working on a nursery soon," I tell her, brushing a strand of blue hair from her face.

Her eyes brighten slightly. "You're already planning it, aren't you?"

I smile, caught. "That's what I was discussing on the phone earlier."

I slip out of bed, feeling a sudden restlessness in my bones. The moonlight catches on Indigo's bare skin as she watches me with curious eyes.

"Come with me," I say, extending my hand. "I want to show you something."

She raises an eyebrow but reaches for the silk robe draped across the chair. I pull on a pair of pants, not bothering with a shirt. The mansion is quiet at this hour with only the occasional guard patrolling the hallways.

Indigo's hand feels small in mine as we descend the grand staircase. Her robe whispers against her skin with each step, reminding me of how she felt beneath me just moments ago. I guide her past my office toward the west wing, an area of the house she hasn't explored much.

"Where are we going?" she asks, her voice echoing slightly in the empty corridor.

"You'll see," I tell her, squeezing her hand.

We stop before a closed door at the end of the hallway. I push it open, revealing a spacious empty room bathed in moonlight from tall windows. I step inside, my mind already transforming the blank canvas before me.

"This is perfect," I say, gesturing around the room. "We'll put the crib here, where the morning light will come in." I walk to the farwall, already seeing it all. "Built-in bookshelves along this wall. A comfortable chair for feeding in this corner."

I turn, pointing to another spot. "And here, a changing table with storage beneath. Roma knows a craftsman who does custom woodwork—everything matching, solid oak or maybe cherry."

The ideas keep flowing as I pace the room. "We'll need to decide on colors, of course. Nothing too bright. Something calming. And the security—we'll need to upgrade the windows, reinforce the door."

I'm already calculating the timeline in my head. "If we start next week, we could have it finished by the time you're showing."

I turn around, expecting to see Indigo exploring the room with me, but she's still standing in the doorway. Her arms are wrapped tightly around herself, her face partially hidden in shadow.

"What's wrong?" I ask, crossing back to her.

Indigo doesn't answer at first. Her eyes dart around the room, and something in her expression shifts—a shadow passing over her face. The excitement I felt moments ago evaporates, replaced by a cold weight in my stomach.

I move to her side, placing my hands gently on her shoulders. "Whatever's on your mind, you can talk to me, printsessa."

She looks up, her eyes swimming with unshed tears. "There's something you need to know, Anatoly."

The way she says it—soft, hesitant, almost afraid—makes dread coil inside me. I take her hand and guide her to sit on the window seat, keeping her fingers entwined with mine.

"What is it," I say, keeping my voice steady despite the tightening in my chest.

She takes a deep breath. "A week before I found out I was pregnant... your mother pulled me into this exact room."

My body goes rigid, but I force myself to remain silent, to let her finish.

"She interrogated me about my past. " Indigo continues, her voice hollow. "She knew my name. My real name."

I resist the urge to curse, to demand details. But I know that Indigo needs to tell this at her own pace. So, I keep silent and wait for her to continue.