Page 70 of Innocent Prey of the Bratva

“In either case,” he says, “it’s going to be alright.”

I want to believe him. God, I want to.

He brushes my hair back, his knuckles tender against my temple. “There’s a drug store just a few blocks away. I’ll go myself and get a test. You stay here. Don’t move. I’ll be back before you know it.”

I nod slowly, breath shaky. “Okay.”

He kisses me then—soft and sure—just once, on the lips. Like a promise.

And then he’s gone.

The door clicks shut behind him, and I’m left staring at it, hand unconsciously moving to my belly, heart thundering like it already knows the answer.

The moment Kaz is gone, the silence stretches and bends around me like a cage. I sit still for a few seconds, but then the nausea rolls back like a wave.

I dart to the sink, gripping the edges, but this time I manage to breathe through it. I sip some cold water from the faucet, rinsing my mouth again, trying to ground myself.

Don’t panic. Just breathe.

I walk out of the office slowly. The hallway is dimly lit, quiet. No sign of Arina, and honestly, I’m relieved. I don’t think I can talk to anyone right now—not with my heart feeling like it might tear through my ribs, and my thoughts spiraling in a dozen directions.

Everything smells like concrete and disinfectant here. Cold. Stark. Safe…but not comforting. Or maybe it’s just me.

I wander to the edge of the corridor and lean against the wall, folding my arms across my chest.

What if I am pregnant?

The question keeps echoing through me.

What does that mean—for me? For Kaz? For everything?

I try to imagine a child in all of this. The blood, the guns, the betrayals. My stomach twists again, but this time not from nausea. From fear.

What will Kaz say if it’s real?

No…I already know. He’ll want to protect me. Us. But that’s the problem. His idea of protection comes wrapped in violence and locked doors. And I’m not ready to raise a child in a world like that. In a life that’s been stolen and rewritten without my permission.

I run a hand through my hair, fighting the tears again. There’s too much uncertainty, too much pressure, too much Kaz. But also, a strange warmth too—because despite it all… he cares.

I’m scared. But I’m not alone.

And I don’t know what to do with either of those truths. Moments later, the front door bursts open so suddenly I flinch, but it’s just Kaz—winded, breathless, and holding a small pharmacy bag like it’s the most important cargo in the world.

“I got five,” he says, voice low but urgent, like he’s handing me medical-grade gold. “Different brands. Two digital. One says results in sixty seconds. I didn’t know which one would feel better for you.”

My chest tightens—not from fear this time, but something softer. He crosses the room in two long strides, his arm slipping around my waist, drawing me into him like I might disappear.

“Come on,” he murmurs, guiding me gently. “Let’s get you answers.”

We walk toward the bathroom together, and he doesn’t let go of me even as I pause at the door. I take the bag from his hands and glance up at him.

“I need to…do this alone,” I say, feeling awkward all over again.

He blinks once, then gives me a teasing smile—rare and crooked and so annoyingly Kaz. “You can pee in front of me,solnyshko. I’ve seen you do more…brazen things.”

I roll my eyes. “You’re not watching me pee.”

He laughs quietly, shaking his head as I nudge him out with a firm hand. “Fine, fine. But I’m staying right outside.”