Page 21

21

Alina

I sit stiffly in the back seat of the black SUV as it glides through the streets of New York toward the airport. My hands are neatly folded in my lap, my nails pressing into the soft leather of my purse. My head rests lightly against the window, but I’m not looking at the passing cityscape. My gaze is unfocused, and my mind repeats the same thought again and again.

I’m going back to Russia.

Viktor made that decision without considering me. Of course, he didn’t have to. I knew this was coming; it was inevitable after I told him I was pregnant. He didn’t yell at me or rage, but the quiet disappointment in his eyes was far worse. My brother had always been a force, a man who commanded respect and loyalty with nothing more than his presence. And I had betrayed that legacy.

I close my eyes, pressing my forehead to the cool glass. My stomach twists painfully, the telltale churning a grim reminder of my pregnant condition.

There’s a piece of Lev growing inside me- a reminder of the man who left me behind. I don’t regret it—not even for a second—but shame burns beneath my skin when I think about going back to Russia like this. Yelena married into one of the most powerful Greek families, securing an alliance that strengthened our bratva’s position. And me? I’m the sister who became pregnant out of wedlock and couldn’t even keep the father of my child.

It’s humiliating.

And the worst part? I still love him. Even now, even after he left. My heart still beats harder when I think about him. My body still aches when I remember his touch.

I swallow down the bitterness rising in my throat.

Viktor hasn’t said much since that night in his office when I revealed the truth. I believe part of him is still processing it, still trying to decide what to do with me. He informed me that the arranged marriage is off. But that doesn’t mean I’m forgiven.

I glance toward Viktor, seated across from me. His profile is sharp under the dim glow of passing streetlights. He appears impassive, his jaw set and his gaze fixed ahead. His body language feels closed off—like an iron wall. He’s always been adept at concealing his emotions. Yet I know him well enough to notice the tension in his shoulders and the slight stiffness in his mouth. He’s still angry. Still disappointed.

I shift my gaze away. My throat tightens.

The car makes a sharp turn, causing my stomach to lurch violently. My mouth waters, and heat rushes to my face. Oh God. No.

I press a hand to my mouth, breathing through my nose. The nausea strikes hard and fast, like a brutal wave crashing through me.

Not now. Not here.

I grit my teeth and swallow, willing it to pass. The last thing I want is to humiliate myself further in front of Viktor. I’ve already done enough damage.

But the car takes another turn, and my stomach flips. Acid burns my throat. My hand flies to the door handle.

“Stop the car,” I whisper.

The driver doesn’t hear me. My heart slams into my ribs.

“I said stop the car!”

The brakes engage smoothly, bringing the car to a stop at the curb. I shove the door open and stumble out, ignoring the cold bite of the evening air against my flushed skin. My heels click unevenly against the pavement as I make a wobbly dash toward the terminal entrance.

I find the nearest bathroom, slamming the door behind me. The mirror swims before my eyes as I grip the edge of the sink. My knees buckle, and the cold porcelain presses against my forehead as I attempt to catch my breath.

I dry-heave into the sink, my stomach twisting painfully. Nothing comes up—I haven’t eaten since yesterday—but the force of it leaves me shaking and weak.

My breath comes in short, sharp bursts. I grip the edge of the sink so hard my knuckles turn white.

When I lift my head, I freeze.

Viktor stands behind me. His reflection in the mirror is sharp and dark, his eyes narrowed in a way I can’t quite decipher. I quickly wipe my mouth and straighten up before turning toward him.

“I’m sorry,” I say quietly. “I didn’t mean to hold you up.”

Viktor doesn’t speak. He crosses the room with controlled and deliberate movements. Then he does something that nearly knocks the breath from my chest.

He pulls me into a hug. A strong, fierce hug—his arms folding around my back, one hand cradling the back of my head.

My breath stutters painfully. My arms hover at my sides before slowly curling around him.

“How long have you been like this?” Viktor’s voice is low, rough against my ear.

“A couple of weeks,” I whisper.

His grip tightens. His chest rises and falls beneath my cheek.

“I didn’t realize,” he says quietly.

I close my eyes. Tears sting the backs of my lids. “It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not,” Viktor says. He pulls back slightly, his hands resting on my shoulders. His dark gaze sharpens on my face.

“I’ve been… angry,” he admits. “Blinded by it.” His hands tighten slightly. “But I should have seen what this was doing to you.”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” he repeats. His mouth twists. “I’ve been an ass.”

I laugh softly despite the tears sliding down my cheeks. “Yeah, you have.”

Viktor’s mouth curves faintly. Then the smile fades.

His expression remains unchanged. His dark eyes scan me, noting the dampness on my cheeks and the tremor in my hands. A muscle in his jaw tenses. “You’ve been this sick for two weeks?”

“I can handle it,” I say quietly.

His gaze sharpens. “Clearly.”

I drop my eyes to the floor. “It’s my punishment, right?” I whisper.

Viktor’s brows draw together.

“For getting pregnant. For embarrassing you. For ruining everything.” My breath shudders.

Viktor steps closer. His large hands cup my face, lifting my chin until my eyes meet his. His expression is unreadable—but his gaze is soft. Too soft.

“You think this is punishment?” he asks quietly.

My throat tightens. “Isn’t it?”

His hands slide down to my shoulders. He pulls me against his chest, his arms wrapping tightly around me.

I stiffen.

And then I melt.

The tension in my chest cracks open as I press my face against his shoulder. His warmth seeps into me, grounding me.

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly.

My breath falters.

“I didn’t realize…” His voice trails off. He pulls back slightly, his gaze dark with something I don’t quite understand. “I’ve been so focused on Lev… On my own anger.” His hands tighten on my shoulders. “I didn’t see what you were going through.”

Tears burn behind my eyes.

“I didn’t mean to bring shame on you,” I whisper. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

Viktor’s thumb brushes a tear from my cheek.

“I’ve been a bitch of a big brother,” he says simply.

A watery laugh escapes me.

“I let the pain of Lev’s betrayal cloud my judgment,” he admits. “But this… This is not your fault.”

I shake my head. “I’m willing to leave. If it will make things easier for you”

“No.” His voice sharpens. “You’re not leaving.”

My breath catches.

“You’re my sister. My blood. No one will dare breathe a word.” His gaze darkens. “And if Lev thinks he can walk away from this—”

“Viktor.” I shake my head. “Please don’t force Lev on me.”

He exhales, his gaze softening. “We’ll talk when I get back.”

He kisses my forehead—something he hasn’t done in weeks. That simple gesture breaks me. Tears spill over my cheeks as I press my face against his chest.

“I’m scared,” I admit.

“I know.” Viktor’s hand smooths down my hair. “But you won’t face this alone.”

I cling to him, trembling.

He lets me cry until the storm passes.

Finally, he pulls back and cups my face once more.

“Go home,” he says gently. “Rest. We’ll talk when I’m back.”

I nod weakly, wiping my face with the back of my hand. He presses a kiss to my temple and then lets me go. I watch him walk away, my heart pounding in my chest. For the first time in weeks, the weight in my chest feels lighter.

And for the first time since Lev left…

I feel like maybe—just maybe- I’m not as alone as I thought.