Page 20

The moment he heard she was at the hospital, Ilya’s heart kicked into overdrive. One minute, he was receiving Rhiannon’s call, and the next, he was rushing to the hospital, his blood hot with concern and anger.

His mind had spiraled into dangerous dimensions on what could have happened to her, and when he barged into the doctor’s office, he full-on expected bad news, ready to spill the blood of whoever had hurt her.

That was until his pulsing anger shrunk to a shocked silence when the doctor, entirely unfazed, responded in a calm, professional tone.

“No one has hurt her, Mr. Nikolai. Valentina and the baby are perfectly healthy.”

Silence.

The kind that sucked all the air out of the room.

His entire body locked up, his chest rising and falling as if he’d just taken a hit. His expression―fierce and unshakable just moments ago, ready to rip the hospital apart―shifted into something unreadable.

Slowly, he turned his gaze to her.

She swallowed hard, refusing to meet his gaze as she gripped the armrests of her chair like a lifeline. The air shifted between them, the atmosphere becoming thick with unbearable tension.

“We’ll be outside,” The doctor said, rising to his feet as Rhiannon followed. “Congratulations, Miss Romano, Mr. Nikolai.”

And then the door clicked shut behind Rhiannon and the doctor, leaving them alone in thick, suffocating silence.

Ilya barely gave them a second to disappear before he turned to Valentina, his jaw tighter than it had ever been, eyes dark with something she couldn’t fathom. “Tell me the truth.”

Valentina crossed her arms, a defensive habit. “He already did.”

“I want to hear it from you.” His voice was low, controlled, but she could hear the tension simmering beneath it. “Tell me the truth, Valentina.”

She let out a shaky breath, willing herself to meet his sharp gaze. “I’m pregnant.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, but his expression remained unreadable. Something in him felt like it was ripping apart and coming together again. Over and over. “And you didn’t know until now?”

Valentina scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Do you think I’d have kept it from you on purpose?”

Ilya studied her, his sharp gaze cutting through her usual bravado. And that’s when he saw it―beneath the attitude and the defensive bite in her words, she was vulnerable. Uncertain. Maybe a little scared.

When he stormed into the hospital to find out what happened to her, he didn’t think he’d walk out a father.

His chest tightened.

His silence seemed to be getting to her and before he could say anything, she straightened her shoulders, lifting her chin. “Look, I don’t expect anything from you,” she said like she was talking about the weather. “You’re not obligated to do anything about this. I can take care of myself just fine.”

Ilya exhaled sharply through his nose, his gaze never leaving hers. “What kind of man do you think I am, Valentina? You’d think I’d walk away from my own blood?”

She hesitated, caught off guard by the quiet intensity in his voice.

He stepped closer, towering over her, his presence all-consuming. “What do you want to do?” he asked seriously. “At the end of the day, it’s your body, and it’s your choice. I’ll do what you want, Valentina. So, do you want to keep it?”

His words hung in the air, heavy with an unspoken promise. He watched her carefully, his heart pounding in his chest as he saw the vulnerability she tried to hide, the uncertainty creeping into her eyes before she buried it again beneath a mask of resolve.

“Yes,” Valentina said, her voice wavering as her gaze fell to her stomach, as if grounding herself with the reality of it all. “I want to keep it.”

A deep breath escaped him, as though a weight he hadn’t even realized he’d been carrying was finally lifted. Relief flooded his system, but it was paired with a new kind of determination. He reached for her, a hand on her arm, steadying her as if she might sway under the gravity of the situation. His thumb gently traced the inside of her wrist, a silent promise in touch.

“Good,” he murmured, his voice low but resolute. “Then that’s what we’ll do.”

She didn’t respond immediately, just gazing at him, her eyes soft but filled with emotions he couldn’t decipher. She was giving him an answer, yes, but there was something unspoken between them―something more than the decision to keep the child. The same thing that made him rush down here like a mad man.

“I’m going to speak to your father,” he added, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Her brows pulled together, but there was suspicion in her eyes that told him she knew why. “About what?”

His lips curled into something that wasn’t quite a smirk but close enough. “About marrying you.”

Her breath hitched. “What?”

“You heard me, Princess.” He reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. “You’re going to be my wife.”

She stared at him in stunned silence.

Ilya had never been a man to hesitate. He saw what he wanted and took it. And now, he wanted her―wanted to make her officially his.

A frown touched her brows. “If this is just because of the baby―”

“It’s not just about the baby,” he countered before she could finish. “It’s about us.”

That was only a half-truth. What he didn’t say, what he wasn’t ready to admit, was that it was because he was madly in love with her―a scary truth he had just realized himself when he heard she was hurt and was scared out of his wits.

It was always her.

It had always been her. Even when he was too blind to see it.

“I’m doing this because I’m not letting you walk through this alone,” he added. “And I’m not letting you walk away from me either.”

There was no mocking in his words, no arrogance, just the raw truth hanging between them.

“I’m not walking away,” she said, her voice trembling just a little as she finally allowed herself to believe what he was offering.

Ilya’s hand remained on her wrist, his grip firm but reassuring. “Good. Because whether you like it or not, you’re stuck with me now, Valentina Romano.”